Page 7

SEVEN

BOZO

Five and a Half Years Ago

As I step out of the shower, I hear my cell ring. I wrap a towel around my waist and move toward the bedroom, where my phone is lying on the bed. I’m hoping it’s Grá calling. Tomorrow is her eighteenth birthday. Instead, I see it’s Lorcan Black calling.

What the hell? Why is he calling? "Hello?"

"Connor," he says. There’s anger in his voice, which makes my blood run cold. "We’ve got a problem."

I raise a brow. The fuck? “We?” I ask, wondering when anything I did became a ‘we’ with him.

“Yes, we. Your dad’s a fucking menace and today he’s pushed me too fucking far.”

I close my eyes. “What the fuck has he done?” I knew this day was coming. It was only going to be a matter of time before my dad pushed someone too far and ended up getting himself killed.

Lorcan's voice is cold and menacing. He’s just as done with Dad’s shit as I am. "Your old man tried to pull a fast one on me. Thought he could cheat at my tables and get away with it. He's sitting in my office right now, bleeding all over my fucking carpet."

"Is he...?" Not that I’d give a fuck if he was or not.

"He's alive. For now." Lorcan pauses, letting the threat hang in the air. "But that depends on you, Connor."

I frown. What the hell is going on? "What do you mean?"

"Tonight, your father has made it clear that he’s willing to put his debt on you and Gráinne."

"That's impossible," I hiss, my anger rising through my body. "Grá has nothing, not one fucking thing, to do with that prick."

Lorcan chuckles darkly. "Oh, I know that, but your father has been very vocal this evening while at the tables about Grá being someone who’ll pay his debt off."

Fuck. That bastard. I’m going to fucking kill him.

"It just so happened that Jerry Houlihan was sitting at the tables tonight," Lorcan continues. "I can hazard a guess that you know how he feels about this shit."

"Oh yeah. Jer’s probably about ready to lose his mind. Am I right?"

"Yep, he’s beyond pissed. He let it be known that if anyone comes after Grá, they’ll have to deal with him. Of course, your father wasn’t happy about that and started yelling about how much of a whore she is."

My blood turns to ice. "I’m going to fucking kill him," I growl. No one calls Grá a whore. Fucking prick.

"Then I suggest you get your ass down here." The line goes dead.

I stand there, phone in hand, trying to breathe through my rage. I need to sort this shit out. My fucking dad… I should have known he wouldn’t slink away quietly. It’s been fucking years since I last saw him.

I dress quickly, my anger still coursing through my body. My mind is reeling. I have no doubt that Jer’s about to lose his shit. I wonder who made my dad bleed, Jer or Lorcan?

It takes me forty minutes to get to the casino. As I pull into the casino parking lot, my mind is racing. What the hell am I walking into? How bad is this situation really? And most importantly, how the fuck am I going to get Grá out of this mess?

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I can't go in there looking like I'm about to lose it. I need to be cool, collected. I need to think.

The casino is buzzing with its usual nighttime crowd, but there's an undercurrent of tension in the air. A few regulars give me wary looks as I make my way through the main floor. They know who I am, who my father is. Word travels fast in places like this.

I spot Lorcan's right-hand man, Declan, standing near the entrance to the private rooms. He nods at me, his face grim.

"He's waiting for you," Declan says, jerking his head toward the back. "It's not pretty in there, Connor. Brace yourself."

I nod, steeling myself as I follow him down the hallway. The sound of raised voices grows louder as we approach Lorcan's office. I recognize Jerry Houlihan's booming voice, thick with rage.

"I'll fucking kill him myself if he so much as looks at her again!" Jerry roars.

Declan pushes open the door, and the scene inside makes me freeze.

My father is slumped in a chair, his face a bloody mess. Jerry looms over him, fists clenched, looking ready to deliver another beating. Lorcan sits behind his desk, cool as ever, but I can see the anger simmering in his eyes.

"Ah, Connor," Lorcan says, his voice deceptively calm. "So good of you to join us."

Jerry whirls around, his eyes locking onto mine. "Did you know about this?" he demands. "Did you know what this piece of shit was planning?"

I glare at the fucker. "Jerry, do you think if I knew, he’d be alive?"

Jerry's eyes narrow on my dad, his look of disgust so clear to see. He steps back, giving me space to approach my father.

I look down at the pathetic figure before me. My father, once so intimidating, now looks small and broken. He raises his head, his swollen eyes meeting mine. "Connor," he slurs, blood trickling from his split lip. "You gotta help me, son. These guys, they're gonna kill me."

I feel nothing but disgust as I look at him. "You brought this on yourself," I say coldly. "And don't you dare call me son."

I turn to Lorcan, ignoring my father's whimpers. "What’s next?”

Lorcan grins. “It’s up to you. I thought you’d be the one who would want to end him. After all, he’s the one who made your life fucking hell growing up.”

It wasn’t exactly a secret that my dad was an asshole, especially as he used me to get money. Something that everyone in the casino scene witnessed.

I turn to my father. “You tried to bring Gráinne into your shit?”

My father coughs, spitting blood onto the already stained carpet. "She's a rich bitch now that Jerry’s taken her in," he slurs, and the insinuation in his voice pisses me the fuck off. There’s no way that anyone genuinely believes that Jer and Grá are anything but platonic. Sick fucker. "I figured she could spare some cash for your old man."

The rage I've been trying to contain explodes. Before I know it, my fist connects with his jaw, sending him sprawling to the floor. "You don't ever get to talk about her," I snarl. "You don't even get to think about her."

Jerry steps forward, a hand on my shoulder. "Easy, Connor. You need to make sure this is what you want to do. It’s not something you can ever come back from."

I’m more than certain about what I want to do. My dad dies tonight, and at my own hands. I’ve let his shit go on for too fucking long already. But him trying to make Grá’s life hell is something I’ll never allow.

"How much does he owe?" I ask.

Lorcan raises an eyebrow. "Are you planning on paying his debt, Connor?"

I shake my head. "No. I want to know how deep of a hole this bastard has dug himself into."

"Two hundred grand," Lorcan says casually, as if discussing the weather.

I whistle low. That's a hell of a lot more than I expected. "And how, exactly, did he think Grá was going to pay that?"

My father, still on the floor, starts to mumble something, but Jerry silences him with a swift kick to the ribs.

Lorcan leans forward, his eyes cold. "He seemed to think she'd be willing to work it off—in one of my establishments."

The implication hangs heavy in the air. I feel sick to my stomach. We all know that Lorcan’s women are not only waitresses and dealers. It goes a fuck of a lot more sinister than that. Most nights, the women are being paid to do whatever the hell Lorcan’s high-rollers want them to do, which most of the time includes being fucked. "You didn't seriously consider?—"

"Of course not," Lorcan cuts me off. "I may be a lot of things, Connor, but I don't fuck with my guys’ women. You have been one of my guys for years, one of my most loyal ones. I wouldn’t do that. Not to mention, she’s Jer’s fucking family."

I nod, relieved but still seething with anger. "So, what now?"

Lorcan leans back in his chair, studying me. "That's up to you, Connor. Your father's debt is substantial, but it's not just about the money anymore. He's crossed a line, threatened one of our own. That can't go unanswered."

I look down at my father, pathetic and cowering on the floor. I’ve already made my decision.

"I'll take care of it," I say, my voice steady. "But not here. I don't want this mess on your hands, Lorcan."

Lorcan nods, a hint of respect in his eyes. "Fair enough. Declan will help you get him out of here discreetly. What happens after that is your business."

Jerry steps forward, his face grim. "I'm coming with you, Connor. This involves Grá, and that makes it my business too."

I don't argue. Having Jerry there might actually make this easier.

Declan and another of Lorcan's men help us get my father into the back of my car. He's barely conscious now, mumbling incoherently.

We drive out of the city, toward the docks, where Jer has a portacabin.

"You sure about this, Connor? There's no going back," Jer asks.

I grip the steering wheel tighter. "He threatened Grá, Jer. He was willing to sell her to pay off his debts. There's no forgiving that."

Jerry nods, his expression hardening. "You're right. Bastard deserves what's coming to him."

We pull up to the docks, and Jer directs me toward the portacabin. Once parked up, I drag my father out of the car, forcing him to his knees at the edge of the dock.

"Connor, please," he whimpers, finally seeming to understand the gravity of his situation. "I'm your father."

I look down at him, feeling nothing but cold contempt. "You stopped being my father a long time ago. And you sealed your fate when you threatened Grá."

Jer hands me a gun. I don’t hesitate in taking it, the weight of it heavy in my hand. Jerry stands beside me, a silent witness.

"Any last words?" I ask, not really giving a fuck what he says.

My father opens his mouth, but before he can speak, I pull the trigger. The sound echoes across the docks, and his body slumps forward.

Jerry moves quickly, grabbing two cinder blocks from nearby and tying them to my father’s limbs. Once it’s done, he uses his foot and kicks my dad over the edge and into the water. Water splashes as he sinks down into the river.

"It's done," Jerry says quietly. "Let's get out of here."

As we drive back to the city, I feel a weight lift off my shoulders. My father is gone, and with him, the constant bullshit he put me through is finished. I’m relieved, so fucking relieved that he’s gone and I won’t ever have to listen to his fucking bullshit ever again.

I watch as she stumbles slightly toward me, a big, goofy grin on her face. She’s unbelievably happy and I know it’s because she’s free. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Gráinne so carefree and at ease.

She’s eighteen and looks drop dead gorgeous. She’s wearing a tight-fitted light pink dress and matching heels. I catch Grá as she stumbles into my arms, her laughter infectious. The party around us is in full swing, music pulsing through the air. Jer really went all out for her eighteenth birthday.

"Connor!" she exclaims, her eyes bright with joy and maybe a bit too much champagne. "You made it!"

I can't help but smile back at her. "Wouldn't miss it for the world, Sunshine."

She beams at the endearment, wrapping her arms around my neck. "Dance with me?"

How could I refuse? I let her pull me onto the makeshift dance floor, where other party goers are swaying to the music. Grá moves with ease, her body close to mine, and I'm hyper-aware of every point of contact between us.

There’s no doubt in my mind—never has been—that Grá is the only woman I have ever loved and will ever love. But what I did last night is something that can’t be brushed over. Jer was right, killing a man will change you. It’ll shape you into someone you don’t recognize, and that’s me right now. Grá deserves everything in life. She deserves pure love and happiness. I’d taint that. She’s had enough violence in her life. I won’t ever bring that to her again.

"You okay?" Grá asks, noticing my distraction. "You seem a million miles away."

I pull her closer, breathing in her scent. "I'm right here," I assure her. "Just thinking about how far you’ve come."

She blushes, ducking her head. "I have you to thank for that,” she whispers. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’re smart as hell, Grá. You’d have made your way, no matter what.”

“I hate your dad, Con. I hate that he’s made you into this man who doesn’t believe his worth. I hate that he doesn’t understand just how truly amazing, handsome, and brilliant you are.”

Christ, she’s fucking killing me. I know that she wants me. I’ve known for a while. But I’d never go there. I can’t. She’s too precious, too damn good for me.

I swallow hard, trying to keep my emotions in check. "Grá, you don't know what you're saying. I'm not?—"

"Don't," she interrupts, her eyes flashing with determination. "Don't you dare try to brush this off, Connor. I know exactly what I'm saying."

She pulls back slightly, her hands moving to cup my face. The touch sends electricity through my body.

"I've known you for years," she continues, her voice low and intense. "I've seen you at your best and your worst. And I'm telling you, Connor, that you are the best man I know."

I close my eyes, overwhelmed by her words and the feelings they stir in me. "Grá, there are things about me... things I've done..."

"I don't care," she says fiercely. "Whatever it is, whatever you've done, it doesn't change what I know."

My eyes snap open, meeting hers. "You’re too damn trusting. Too damn sweet."

She shrugs. “That may be so, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re an amazing man, Connor. The very best there is.”

"Grá," I start, my voice rough with emotion. "You don't know what that is. I'm not the man you think I am."

She shakes her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "You're exactly the man I think you are. Strong, loyal, protective. And yes, sometimes dangerous. But I'm not some delicate flower, Connor. I can handle it."

I'm torn between the overwhelming desire to pull her close and kiss her senseless, and the equally strong urge to push her away, to protect her from the darkness that surrounds me.

Grá steps closer. “You are my Connor.”

Fuck. I drag her closer to me, my lips slanting against hers. The moment our lips meet, it's like a spark ignites between us. Grá melts into me, her body molding against mine. I can taste the champagne on her lips, sweet and intoxicating.

My hands slide down to her waist, pulling her even closer as the kiss deepens. Grá lets out a soft moan, her fingers tangling in my hair. The world around us fades away–the music, the party, everything disappears until it's just us.

But reality comes crashing back all too soon. I break the kiss, breathing heavily as I rest my forehead against hers. "Grá," I whisper, my voice rough. "We can't do this."

She pulls back slightly, her eyes searching mine. "Why not?" she demands. "I want this, Connor. I want you."

I close my eyes, trying to gather my thoughts. "You deserve better than me, Sunshine. You deserve someone who isn't... tainted."

Grá's hand comes up to cup my cheek, forcing me to look at her. "Don't you get it, Connor? I don't want anyone else. I want you, with all your flaws and rough edges. That's what makes you real."

I shake my head, even as my resolve weakens. "You don't know what you're asking for, Grá. The things I've done..."

"Then tell me," she says firmly. "Whatever it is, we'll face it together."

I step back and shake my head. Never, not fucking ever, will I let her into this fucked up world.

“Happy birthday, Grá,” I say, brushing my fingers along her cheek. “Enjoy your evening.”

I turn on my heel and walk out of the club. I need to get the fuck out of here, away from her, before I lose my restraint and go back. I want Gráinne, more than I care to admit, but I won’t be the reason that she’s hurt or brought into this fucked up world I’m in.

She’s my best friend and that’s how it’ll stay.