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The windows out front were painted over with streaks of black paint. During the day you could tell how poor of a job was done, but on a night like tonight it was effective in providing privacy from nosey outsiders. The burly-looking man standing at the door took one look at her and gave her a courteous nod, allowing her to pass him and enter the establishment. Bearing the O’Reilly name had its perks of not being questioned in seedy establishments like this one.
As soon as the door opened, she was smacked by the smell of rancid cigars, over-applied cologne, and stale booze. There would be no getting the scent out of her clothes for several washes after this. The knowledge that her dad wore his high-end suits here was mind-boggling.
Given the importance of appearances for a meeting of this caliber, Layne was sure to twist and overlap her hair into a neat braid. She opted for a pair of black pants, a hunter-green tank with a black military cut jacket, and a pair of practical and solid boots.
She also brought a girl’s best accessories with her into Death’s Door: a mini arsenal. There was never any telling when this level of negotiations could go poorly, and you never wanted to be stuck without the appropriate tools. Layne made sure she had at least two different knives, her baby Glock, and a spare clip.
Now that she was inside, she noted they had done some renovations and changes to the layout since she had last visited. There was a dimly lit bar in the left corner, booths lining the opposite wall, and a hall with maybe five or six doors from what she could see from where she stood.
Each of those doors led to a private room where business could be conducted. Sometimes that business was some exchange of goods, sometimes it was political games, and sometimes it was just delving into carnal pleasures. Layne shuddered at the thought of what diseases were likely left behind in such cases.
Liam stood outside the second room, flagging her down with one raised hand. The place wasn’t too busy tonight, making it easy to take the straightest path to where he was. “Is our guest of honor here yet?”
“Not yet.” He held the door open to the reserved room they were going to be using for the discussions. When she stepped inside, there were two mounted lamps on the wall ahead of her using red light bulbs to provide minimal illumination. Her father was sitting in an upholstered armchair in the corner across from the doorway. Two other chairs were set up, one next to him, and one near the door.
“Layne, Liam is going to sit here.” Her father motioned to the chair to his right. “And, I want you standing right behind him.”
She had been doing this long enough to realize he wanted her to be behind Liam not only for purposes of hierarchical structure but for safety reasons as well. Layne may not have agreed with it, but being caught arguing amongst themselves would be bad for business if anyone witnessed it.
She went ahead and leaned back against the wall behind Liam’s assigned seat. Her brother remained waiting outside for this specialist her dad had searched high and low for. Her nerves were starting to tingle with anxiety while they waited.
Liam’s voice spoke up from directly outside the room’s entrance. “Right on time.”
A tall figure appeared in the doorway, bordering just over six feet from what she could guess based on the height of the door frame. Slowly he stepped foot inside and assessed the layout of their meeting space.
Liam followed close behind and closed the door to avoid any lurking eyes or prying ears.
“Take a seat. Please.” Her father gestured at the chair across from them, separated by a rickety-looking coffee table with unknown stains and gouges marring its finish.
The specialist took a few steps forward to take his seat where the lights could provide a better look at his appearance.
With her arms casually crossed in front of her chest while she remained back against the wall, the first thing she saw was the white crooked smile of the skull-faced mask. Her poker face faltered while her heart flip-flopped in her chest and knocked an entire garden of butterflies down low into her stomach. She shifted on her feet, her eyes watching as Liam crossed the room and took his seat in front of her.
Logically, Layne attempted to rationalize that just because it was a masked man didn’t mean it was Joey.
He cocked his head to one side curiously. “I didn’t realize this would be such a family affair.”
The depths of his gravelly voice sent the hair on the back of Layne’s neck up on end. She would know that voice anywhere. She knew exactly how the mouth that spoke those words would feel against her skin. Her thoughts further strayed to the heated memories of his tongue doing things to her before she had to painfully bring herself back to the present.
Joey lounged back in his chair, giving off a vibe of comfortability despite being outnumbered in this small space. His eyes met hers with a gaze that sent her reeling back into thoughts of the number he did to her at Annie & Cain’s the other night. She still hadn’t recovered from how he had left her.
Scott rested his elbows on the armrests of his chair, folding his hands in front of him, “This is as much their business as it is mine. Now, before we talk terms, given the delicacy of this matter, I need assurance that you will use the utmost discretion in carrying out the task.”
Joey’s eyes shifted back to Scott with all seriousness. “I have a personal interest in this case, so believe me when I tell you that discretion is my top priority.”
Liam chimed in. “A personal interest? That sounds like a recipe for you to get too tied up in your own shit.” There Liam went, trying to insert himself into things like he was already in charge. Layne was thankful that he wouldn’t catch a glimpse of the unimpressed look on her face.
This masked specialist her dad was on the verge of hiring leaned forward, perching his elbows on top of his knees while locking eyes with Liam. “C’mon over here, little boy, and let me show you what happens when someone gives me a reason to spread around some pain and suffering.”
Scott shot a hard glare over at Liam the second he moved an inch in his seat. Liam slowly let out a measured count of an exhale to avoid embarrassing the family by lashing out at this guy, but the temptation had been there. Meanwhile, Layne was pushing her teeth into her tongue to prevent herself from giving even the tiniest of smirks.
When Liam didn’t make a move, Joey sat back again and motioned with his gloved hand over at Layne. “So, is she the one who took a swim?” He posed the question to Scott.
Layne straightened up, stepping away from the wall she had been leaning back against. “Don’t look at him, I’m standing right here.”
“Sweetheart, you’re not the one hiring me.” Joey didn’t even glance at her.
“The hell I’m not.”
