Page 18 of Broken Blood Ties

“Another one?” Lizzy asks.

“She’ll have another. On the house,” Kieran answers for me.

Lizzy winks. “Coming right up, Boss.”

I suck in a breath at the word.

Boss.

Pressure builds on my chest, and I grimace.Not now. Not now, I chide myself.

The sounds around me fade in and out, and I swear the room gets smaller.

“Summer,” Kieran says. A warm hand splays on my lower back and I turn to see he’s leaned in closer to my ear. “Ye all right?”

No. I’m not. I’m teetering on the verge of a panic attack, and I hate how tiny words can be such large triggers. I can’t let him know this. The last thing I need is for Mr. O’Donnell to take issue with me over something and get it in his head that I’m unfit to teach my students.

So I roll my shoulders and look dead into his penetrating eyes. “What is it you say?” I muster my most convincing accent. “I’ll be grand.”

Chapter5

Kieran

I’m a bleeding eejit. What was I thinking coming to sit down next to Summer Smith? I haven’t sat at my bar in years. But when I saw her eyeing me earlier, all sense of reason went out the window.

For a moment, I forgot Summer was my daughter’s teacher. Stupidly, I let the idea that she might be enjoying herself run away in my mind. But the sobering reality comes crashing down when I glance over to see Marco standing at the entrance.

Finn and Callum have halted him, but I raise my hand with a smirk and wave him toward me still.

There’s no need to make a scene. Considering most of those dining in my bar don’t know who we truly are. And for some reason, the thought Summer might discover who I am gives me pause.

I’m not ashamed of who I am. In fact, I relish in it. That’s why, as the leader of my organization, I still fight and pull my weight. Because Iamthe Mob. When it’s succeeding so am I.

I like to contribute.

Plus knocking a few people out is an added perk.

Cormac hates it. He’s always nervous I’ll get knocked out and never wake up.

I like to think he’s genuinely concerned about losing me, but a part of me wonders if he doesn’t selfishly hope to avoid becoming the head of the Mob.

And then there’s Aoife. And with her … am I being selfish?

Summer swallows and turns to look where I’m waving. Her darker features mimic Marco’s, annoyingly so, and when he does a double take to admire her, I want to shove his arse right back out the door.

She leans over to whisper something to her friend Shelly, and I find myself fixated on where her dark brown hair kisses the back of her neck between her shoulder blades. The way it caresses her tan skin as she shakes her head at something her friend says.

I clear my throat in time for Marco to slide onto the seat next to mine, and my attention redirects from Summer to the beefy bald man next to me.

Voice low, I grit out, “Marco. What could ye possibly be doing in me bar?”

He glances at his watch. “It’s ten p.m., Kieran. And it’s Wednesday.”

I trace the top of a tapped white-oak keg in front of me, contemplating.

He wants to enter some men of his into the fight tonight. You’d think with his annoyance within the city and poor practices as a slimy organization I’d be opposed to that. But they bring money, which supports the Mob and our families.

They also bring well-funded and well-stocked men willing to put on a show for those keen to bet. It’s a win-win. Marco knows to keep his underaged girls out of my area of town. And—as per the last man who sat beaten to pulp in my supply closet and sent to fight for his life down below—he knows I’ll do it again.