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Being a quick study, she nods. Staring at me hard, I wait for her to ask the next question. The one that’ll shatter me to have to lie to her to answer.
“You’re not going to be able to come with me, are you?” Layla whispers. Shaking my head is hard as her eyes fill with tears. Blinking hard, I force mine away. I need to finish what I’m doing here first. There are people who need me.
My entire future could change because of my decisions here. Thankfully, she takes a shuddering breath, pressing her lips together to hold back any other questions. She has to know on some level that I won’t be able to answer them.
“Be safe?” she asks as the door is violently unlocked and opened. Seán O’Brien’s face is red, his hands shaking in anger.
“You owe me a blood debt, girlie. How a tiny little chit like you manages to get the drop on Jack-o, I’ll never know,” he growls. Seán is barely keeping it together right now.
Layla stands like royalty, back straight, winking at me before facing a man that I’ve watched murder several people in cold blood.
Oh fuck.
Her face is a cold mask as she stares back at him. The only evidence I can see that she’s affected negatively by the man are the goosebumps raised along her skin.
“I don’t know what kind of women you’re used to having around you, Sir, but I take issue with being manhandled. As you saw earlier, I bruise easily,” she tells him, showing off the finger impressions that are quickly darkening.
She’s going to need heavy makeup or long sleeves to cover that at her next performances. “You know damn well I have a concert tomorrow.”
The ire slowly bleeds away as he looks at the prints. Scowling, he steps inside the room, slamming the door behind him.
“He shouldn’ta done that,” Seán grunts, his brogue riding him hard. “Did you really have to tear Jack’s skin to shreds? It was impossible to save him. Fucker died on the way to our makeshift clinic that we have at the club.”
As beautiful as I’m sure the club is because the man knows music and how to entertain people, altercations happen often enough here to need a clinic. Rolling my shoulders, I watch my niece both calm and goad the beast. It’s kind of impressive.
“You ordered him to grab me instead of continuing our lovely conversation. Now, where are my men? You can return them and my knife to me, and then you can see me out,” Layla says. “You’re clearly not keeping me here when you know there are people expecting me to play at a sold out show.”
Seán snarls at me, throwing up his hands. It’s actually almost comical. I don’t think this’ll blow back at me, so I merely shrug, leaning back in my seat to cross my arms. I can’t work if he breaks me too badly. He forced his men to go easy on me so my eyes wouldn’t swell shut.
Great employer. Real peach.
“The girlie here says you had a part in her growing up. Tell me, was she this much of a pain in the ass as a teenager?” he complains.
Looking back, I can’t say that she was. Shaking my head with a small smile I deny it.
“She was a perfect angel,” I chuckle. “Layla is growing into her own person, I for one love it.”
“Yeah, yeah. Your uncle is a bad influence,” Seán mutters to Layla. He doesn’t appreciate the bond I’m forging with his daughter, but it frankly isn’t any of his business. “Come along then, you saw him, Layla. I’m not planning on killing the man anytime soon, he’s too valuable.”
“This is incredibly petty,” Layla says, following him as he opens the door.
“The Irish are not known for being level headed,” he barks out in laughter as he escorts her out.
And then I’m alone with my thoughts again. Sighing, I start laundering the money to this very club, shaking my head.
Great job being “valuable”, Jordan.
LAYLA
I’m freaking out more than I’m letting on. Huge men stare me down as I flip my blonde curls over my shoulder, pretending they don’t bother me.
“You’re a troublesome woman,” Seán grumps, making my lips twitch. I have to make sure I don’t underestimate this stone cold killer, because he’s acting like a petulant child.
“Seán, you didn’t answer my question about my men or knife,” I remind him with an elegant sigh. I’m playing it up, but I’m more worried about Tyler and Draven than my damn knife. I don’t know where I stand in my feelings for Mav or Atlas, but I guess I’d miss their arrogant asses. Maybe I’d just miss their talents… or their instruments. Yes, that’s exactly it.
“They’re totally fine, I’m not surprised in the least that they all belong to you,” Seán huffs. “I don’t think one man would be enough to keep your interest.”
My cheeks color slightly at his insinuation, but the damage has been done. Not only am I insatiable in bed, I must be high maintenance too. Oh well.
