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The next thing I know, my bedroom door flies open, and a shirt is flung at my head.
“Wear that!”
“Hold one second, Mam.” I hold the phone against my chest. “U2?” I question my cousin’s choice of T-shirt.
“Damn straight. Let’s represent. It’s not mine, though, it’s Finn’s.”
I look at his shirt. “Why do you get Drop Kick Murphy’s?”
“I got a Hozier one too if you want that one.”
“This is huge.”
“Tie that shit in the back like every American girl does when her shirt is too big. Now get ready and tell my aunt I said hello.”
“I’m sorry, Ma.” I turn my attention back to my mother once my cousin walks away. Then I hear the beep alerting me to another message. I pull the phone from my ear forgetting I’m on Cillian’s phone and glance at the screen. I quickly ignore the message and put the phone back to my ear when it hits me the name on the message that was sent was titled Carbone. Putting my mother on speaker I open the message from Demetri.
Carbone: Something came up. Make sure the hen stays in the house.
What the heck does that mean?
“That’s okay, my sweet girl. Where is Ciarán taking you?”
“I don’t know.” I return my attention back to my mother.
“That is not good.”
“You’re telling me.”
“You go. You get ready and have a great time with your cousin. I love you.”
“Wait! I want to talk to Da?”
“I’m sorry, honey. He has fallen asleep.”
“Oh.” My disappointment is clear. “Tomorrow, maybe.”
“Maybe. Go. Go have fun.”
“I love you.”
“You are the apple of my eye, my sweet girl.”
I hang up with tears in my eyes but excitement for the night ahead.
ChapterSixteen
HAVEN
“What is this place?”I yell, trying to scream louder than the music blaring through the dark, smoky hallways.
“This is a typical American rave, cuz.”
“Ciarán! Cillian will kill you for this!”
“You want to go back home, or do you want to live a little?” I waver a moment, my words nowhere to be found. “That’s what I thought. Now get your ass moving. We need to find some cups or you and I will be drinking this scotch straight out of the bottle I brought.”
“You are so dead for this. But a good kind of dead,” I yell over the screaming music as I watch a girl with a pacifier in her mouth walk by. “What the?” I turn to Ciarán.
