Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 90919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“Oh, now you’re walkin’ home?” I bit out, staring at my empty bay.
I should’ve known shit was going to go wrong when I’d checked the schedule that morning and realized it was going to be a slow day. Irritating shit always happened on slow days. People got hurt doing stupid shit. Everyone was pissy because they had too much time on their hands.
“Cian, it’s right down the road. It takes like five minutes to walk home.”
“Myla,” I murmured, walking outside. “We’ve been together how long?”
“Together together?” she asked. “Two months.”
“And in all that time, have you walked any-fuckin’-where?”
“No,” she replied, drawing out the word. “But we’re usually together, and tonight we will not be.”
“I’m not cool with you and Lou and Frankie goin’ out without someone watchin’ your backs.”
“I’m a full-grown adult!”
“I’m aware of that.”
“We’ve been going out on our own for years. Literal years, Cian.”
“You’ve been ridin’ home on the back of my bike most of those years,” I argued.
“Not every time.”
“Most of the time.”
“You’re being crazy. I wasn’t calling you for permission. The girls and I have barely hung out at all since you and I started sleeping together. This is a call to tell you I’m going out tonight.”
“You need a break from me, that what you’re sayin’?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying, and don’t try to flip this shit around.”
“I thought you were comin’ to Saoirse’s birthday tonight,” I ground out. “You blowin’ her off?”
“No, I’m not,” Myla shot back. “We’re going after the party.”
“Take Bas,” I ordered. It seemed like a good compromise. She wasn’t lying, we’d barely spent any time apart in the last couple of months. If she wanted to go blow off some steam with her best friends, I didn’t give a shit. It was the idea of her going without anyone keeping an eye out for them that made alarm bells go off in my head.
“It wouldn’t be a girls’ night if Bas was there.”
“Bas hangs with you guys all the time.”
“Oh, my god. I’m done with this conversation.”
“Don’t fuckin’ hang—” The words weren’t out of my mouth before she hung up on me. “Fuck,” I bellowed, squeezing the phone in my fist to keep myself from throwing it.
Myla had always pushed my buttons, but it was safe to say that since we’d started sleeping together, the button pushing had started to feel more like I was getting smacked with a fucking hammer.
“I’m guessin’ that was my daughter?” Tommy asked, strolling toward me with a joint between his lips.
“How could you tell?” I asked.
“Shit, man,” he said with a laugh, taking the joint from his mouth. “You’re wearin’ my expression. Pretty sure I look exactly like that when Heather’s pissin’ me off.”
“I’m fine,” I replied.
“You look like you could flip over a car,” he mused. He pointed across the forecourt. “Try that one. It’s a piece of shit anyway.”
“I’m good.”
“She’s gonna annoy the hell outta you,” Tommy said with a shrug. “But the rest of her makes it all worth it. Take it from someone who knows.”
“I know she’s worth it.” I replied. “Plan on marryin’ her.”
“That didn’t sound like you were askin’ permission.”
“Because I wasn’t. I’d be happy for it,” I admitted. “But I’d marry her without it.”
“You do realize I could have you killed?”
“I’m aware of that, yeah,” I conceded.
Tommy laughed quietly and then nodded.
“She wants to go out bar hoppin’ with the girls,” I muttered after a few minutes of silence.
“The Three Musketeers strike again.”
“Somethin’ like that.”
“Who gives a fuck?”
“They wanna go without any protection.”
Tommy scoffed. “Dream on, daughter.”
“That’s what I said.”
“Bet that went over well.”
“She’s bein’ stubborn.”
“My daughter?” he asked in mock surprise. “Don’t believe it.”
“It’s fine,” I mumbled. “I’ll talk to her at Saoirse’s thing tonight.”
“We’re invited to that?” he asked curiously.
“Yep.”
“I’m sure Heather’s got it on her little calendar,” he said with a shrug. “I just go where she tells me. Easier that way.”
I nodded. I was going to see Myla in a few hours and we could work things out face to face. There was no reason to get all wound up about it. She’d either willingly take someone with her, or I’d get one of the boys to follow them around like the Secret Service. She could choose. I didn’t care how pissed she was about it.
As I went back into the garage to see if anyone could use some help, I couldn’t quite shake the feeling in my gut that something wasn’t right.
It didn’t make any sense. Everyone was doing well. Shit had been quiet. Aoife had found a job, and Sean was loving staying home with Aunt Ashley all day, tromping around in the rain. Aisling was healed—or at least the visible wounds were—and she’d started taking on a few tattoo clients twice a week. Ronan had moved out and was currently searching for an apartment for him and Aisling to share. Saoirse was Saoirse, taking care of her own shit and not making a big deal about it.