Ruthless: An Irish Mafia Romance (Wild Irish Book 2)

by Vi Carter

  Neill tilts his head to the side. “You know he wouldn’t have cared.” Neill was right, but that didn’t soften the betrayal of him lying to me.

  “Do you know where Brian is now?”

  “No I swear.” Neill holds up his hands again, like it meant shit.

  “I don’t even know if I believe you anymore.”

  “Connor, come on, man.” I’m standing, done with this conversation.

  “You’re going to hurt me?” Neill has his head in his hands.

  “No, Neill. I don’t hurt my friends.” I tell him before leaving his house. I had thought of Neill as a friend. It was a reminder that you couldn’t trust anyone.

  I take the piece of paper out of the glove compartment that I have been storing there. My stomach twists. I’m ringing with no news, and I hate that. My only hope is that my dad has news for me.

  “Hi, son. How is everything up there?”

  His voice washes over me, and it makes me feel even more conflicted. I want to go back up north, but leaving Ava is feeling harder with each day that passes.

  “A mess, to be honest.”

  “Not our mess?” He questions.

  “No, Da, it’s Darragh.” I cut off, knowing we only have a certain amount of time, and that he doesn’t care about Darragh.

  “No sign of Bernard and no word. What about you?” My stomach twists as I wait.

  “Nothing. Call me when you have news.” He hangs up, and his way sometimes reminds me too much of Michael.

  I ring Russell and try not to focus on my father’s similarities to Michael.

  “Man, I’ll fix up with you soon for the apartment,” I tell him, and he sounds like he’s near traffic.

  “No problem, Connor. All’s good.”

  “I’m looking for another favor. I need a job. Like an auctioneer job.”

  Russell laughs. “You an auctioneer? You’d scare off all my punters.”

  I tut. “Not me, you dick. Ava. The girl in your apartment.”

  “You’re telling me she doesn’t have a job.” I glare at Neill’s house as I speak.

  “She just lost it. So I promised her I would get her one. Can you make that happen?”

  “Not with me, Connor, but Gunnes in the area are looking for one. Does she have qualifications?”

  “No, but she’s a real charmer.”

  Russell laughs. “She must be since you’re pulling so many favors for her. Look, leave it with me, and I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Okay, don’t leave it too long.”

  I take one final look at Neill’s house before leaving the estate and making my way home. I better show my face after disappearing last night.

  AVA

  The taxi drops me off. I’m trying to juggle my bag and paying the taxi man when my phone vibrates. “Thanks again,” I say as I make my way into the apartment. Once my bag is on the counter, I check my phone. My heart deflates. It’s Patrick. I was hoping to hear from Connor.

  I want to send you your payment. Can you forward me on your address? Hope you’re keeping well.

  It felt silly to make him post it out, but I wasn’t sure I would be returning there anytime soon. I wish I could tell him I’ll get it off him another time, but with everything, I needed the money.

  Number Five, Headfort Demesne. Thanks, Patrick.

  I’m trying to keep a positive mind set as I look around the apartment. It’s more than I could ever have dreamed. I just hope I get a job and am able to keep it.

  My phone vibrates again.

  Sure thing

  The wording was odd for Patrick. But he never texted, so maybe he was trying to be up with it. The rubbish is only a bag, but I gather it up and take the keys out to the rubbish area. The white shutter gates are snow white. They look recently painted, and when I open them up, two large bins sit nearly side by side. One green the other blue, I dump the rubbish in the recycling bin before heading back to the apartment.

  As I clean, I keep checking my phone hoping Connor will text. It’s at such an odd moment when I’m cleaning the bathroom that I realize I love him. I’m in love with him. That crept up on me. Green eyes stare back at me, and the girl I see I almost don’t recognize. She’s smiling, yet hiding the mark on her face. My gaze drops to the floor, and I swallow the bile that rises in my throat. I’m too much work. He’ll leave.

  Your mother left you.

  The ugly voice in my head that I shut down long ago is raising its head, and I’m shaking my head in denial.

  My nan’s words I repeat. “It’s her loss, not mine.” My eyes water and I close them not wanting to spill anymore tears. “It’s her loss, not mine.” I repeat it like a mantra until someone knocks on the door. I quickly pull myself together.

  Connor.

  I open the door and immediately try to slam it. Brian’s hand grips the door frame, and he forces it open. I throw my full weight behind it and slam the door on his hand. He lets it go, but his roars have me rushing the door again. My head hits the wall as the door is busted open. The hallway darkens as Brian slams the door behind him. My head rings, and even as he approaches me, I can’t seem to focus or move.

  He pushes me into the living room, and I stumble onto the floor. I’m trying to stop the ringing in my head as Brian gets a towel for his bleeding hand. My phone.

  I’m scrabbling trying to get to my feet. I’m swaying but my hearing seems to have cleared.

  “Sit down, Ava.”

  “Have you lost your mind?” I can’t reason with this madness. He ignores me and points to the couch. I sit down, not wanting to gain any more injuries.

  “It was you-“ I’m shaking my head at my own stupidity. “You pretended to be Patrick.” He doesn’t confirm or deny. Brian cradles his arm to his chest.

  “Is your head okay?” He’s a psycho. My phone’s on the counter, and I know if I can distract him for a minute, I could grab it and run.

  “Yeah, it’s fine,” I answer, looking around the room for anything I could use as a weapon.

  “Aren’t you going to ask me if my hand’s okay?” I hope you bleed to death.

  “What do you want?” He laughs, and I pull in a large gulp of air.

  “What I’ve always wanted, Ava. You.”

  “You had me, and you hurt me.” Shivers race all over me as I say it. My bottom lip trembles, and I bite down to try to stop the emotion.

  “Give me another chance.” He’s on his knee making his way over to me. My vision blurs as I shake my head.

  “Brian, please,” I beg as he reaches me. Don’t touch me.

  “I was foolish to throw away what we had.” He’s looking at me like there is hope. I blink, and my vision clears fully as tears stream down my face.

  “Okay,” I say.

  “Really?” He leans out like he doesn’t quite believe me. I can only nod, and my throat closes up.

  “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

  “Of course not.” I wipe my face with the sleeve of my top, trying to stem the flow of tears.

  “You’re right. We were good together.”

  He’s nodding, and my heart slams repeatedly against my chest. “Look at the mess you made of my hand.”

  Salty tears find their way into my mouth. “I’m so sorry. I just panicked.”

  “Yeah, you weren’t expecting me. Were you expecting someone else?” I’m shaking my head, swallowing the bile in my throat.

  “No. I was just cleaning.” He stands now and looks around.

  “It’s a nice place, Ava. A bit above your pay grade. But we will make it work.” My eyes snap to my phone, but I look away when he glances back at me.

  “You want your phone?” he asks, and a sob falls from my mouth.

  “No,” I tell him. The ringing of my phone makes me jump. Brian picks it up, and I’m standing.

  “Connor,” Brian says as he scratches his head. He doesn’t hang up or answer it. Instead, he places the phone on the counter.

  “Brian, we are just f
riends.”

  “Shut the fuck up you, SLUT!” I’m sitting back down, rigid. Oh God.

  “You have no intentions of getting back with me. Do you?” I want to lie down and close my eyes and pretend this isn’t happening. If I say I do, he will know I’m lying, If I say I don’t, he will lose it. I focus on the hard wood floor under my feet.

  “Brian, please,” I plead instead, but he’s in front of me again. His bloody hand gripping my face. “You’re the only one I ever told about my childhood. You’re the only person I’ve ever opened up to. I’m so in love with you, Ava. You have to see that.” He had told me about how his parents were addicts and he raised himself. Often hungry and afraid, he fended for himself. His story broke my heart, and all I ever wanted to do was help Brian, heal him. In a way, I did. He grew stronger, more confident. Until I became his punching bag. That I could never forgive.

  I can’t form the words, and I can’t stop the flow of tears. His fingers grip my hair painfully. “Answer me.” Spit flecks across my face as he screams.

  “If you loved me, you would have never hurt me. You’re hurting me now.” His grip loosens, but he doesn’t let me go.

  “Do you love me?” I close my eyes until his hold tightens on my hair. My heart is jumping around my chest, making its way into my throat. I need this to end. “No, Brian, I don’t love you anymore.” He releases, me and a sob tears from my throat. His blue eyes shine with tears, and I’m stiff holding my body rigid, getting ready for the blow that he will no doubt land on me. But he doesn’t. Something in him softens, and he moves into my personal space.

  “Kiss me.”

  “What?” I’m not sure I heard him right, but he leans in and tries to brush his lips against mine. My hands move on reflex and slam against his chest, stopping his progression.

  “No, Brian. Just stop.” Hitting me was one thing, forcing himself on me was unthinkable. He pushes against me, his lips roughly touching mine. I lash out and scratch his face, ready to bolt. I don’t get to move. His large hands encircle mine as he pins me to the ground.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I’m shouting my panic, pleading with the rational part of him. “Don’t do this.” I can barely breathe as he leans down and kisses me again. My brain is screaming that this can’t be real. Somewhere in the background, my phone rings, a reminder that this is very much real, and If I don’t get up, the unthinkable was going to happen.

  He’s screaming, trying to pull away from me, but I’ve locked my jaw after sinking my teeth into his lip. My hands are free, and it’s a moment of relief until his fist connects with the side of my head. Darkness swamps me, and the taste of iron fills my mouth. I try to spit out the liquid that has entered my mouth, but the weight is still on top of me. I’m bucking blindly, but everything gets heavier, and I slow down. The burn on the back of my neck jerks me. Cold air brushes my skin.

  “No don’t.” It’s weak; I need to open my eyes. I need to stop this. The weight is lifted, and my stomach hollows out as rough hands tug at my trousers. My vision clears, and I’m sideways. Brian is opening his jeans.

  Move, Ava.

  “You’re a stupid bitch and a slut.” His words wake me up a bit more. I move, and he grips my bare thighs painfully. Kicking out my legs, I connect with his shoulder. His face is a bloody mess but I still see the snarl as his hands dig into my legs making their way back up to me.

  “Get away from me,” My throat burns as I scream and thrash under him. He grabs one of my swinging hands, but not before I get to drag my nails down his face.

  “Fuck sake, Ava.”

  “Help! Help,” I can’t get his weight off me, wriggling under him is only aggravating him more. But I can’t give up. This can’t be it. His face is close to me, but he’s not stupid enough to try to kiss me again. I spit into his face. Pain explodes down the side of my face as his temper flares again.

  “You dirty animal.” I’m trying to stay awake. Brian is still on top of me, his head tilted to the side, and I don’t know what he is listening to until I hear it, and my throat tightens, my eyes blur. Someone is knocking on the door.

  “Help! Please!” A sweaty hand clamps down on my face, and I bite hard refusing to let go. Brian’s roars pound in my head.

  I spit when Brian tears his hand back. The knocking is now gone, and it sounds like someone is throwing themselves against the door. Brian gets off me, his eyes roaming the room. The wooden floor scratches my hands as I move backwards. My back hits the couch, and I cling to it. My top is torn. On the floor, my trousers are near the door. The rattle of the door has me glancing at Brian. He takes out a knife, and I’m shaking my head. The world explodes as the front door shatters in on top of us. Brian moves quickly towards me, and I’m trying to scurry across the couch. My body is limp like I’ve been drugged, and I’m screaming at it to move. My head whips around at the sound of running feet. I pause as a sob tears itself free from my throat.

  Connor.

  His pause is so brief, but my eyes connect with his, and something shifts between us, but I can’t stop the crying. The sound that’s leaving me doesn’t sound like me. When Connor releases me from his stare, he’s moving towards Brian. Connor moves mechanically as Brian wields a knife.

  Someone else has entered the room, but my focus is on Connor. Brian swipes. Connor jumps back, disarms him in a second. The knife skitters across the floor, before Connor punches Brian in the face. The impact seems to shake the floor under me as Brian hits the ground hard.

  “Wait, let me explain. She came onto me.” Connor stands over him as he tries to crawl away. I don’t turn away as a heavy boot slams into Brian’s face. The crunch of his nose is satisfying. Connor’s over Brian now, his fist slamming into Brian’s face repeatedly. I can’t take my eyes away from Connor. He’s transformed. He’s savage in his attack, and I don’t want him to stop. I don’t want him to ever stop.

  “Connor.” The other person who had entered with Connor is trying to pull him off, gripping his arm. It slows Connor down but doesn’t stop him.

  “You need to stop.” The other guy doesn’t sound overly alarmed, but his words break through the walls Connor had built around himself. He stops, his hands a bloody mess. Brian is unrecognisable under him. Brown eyes that are almost black hold mine, and Connor’s moving again. Releasing Brian, he moves over to me.

  “Get me a blanket.” The other guy leaves the room as Connor takes me in his arms, cradling me against his chest like a child, and I release a flood of tears.

  “It’s okay,” His whispered words are accompanied by a blanket that he wraps around me. He’s standing still, holding me in his arms before we descend, and he’s sitting.

  “What about him?”

  “Just give me a minute.” Connor’s words rumble through his chest. My hands tighten on his top as I push my face deeper into his chest.

  “It’s okay,” he tells me again. I stay in my safe cocoon until the other man speaks again.

  “Didn’t realize he was such a fucking maniac.” Smoke makes its way into my safe place. Peeking out, I see the other boy is smoking. His eyes clash with mine.

  “Hi.” He gives me a nod. I don’t answer him but look up into familiar brown eyes.

  “He’s my brother. He’s here to help.” I’m nodding and swallow another flood of emotions.

  “How did you know?” My throat is hoarse.

  “Will you get me some water?” He tells his brother before looking down at me. “Patrick rang me when I was at home. He told me that Brian attacked him and made him get your address.”

  His brother arrives back with the water and hands it to Connor who holds it to my lips. I take a deep gulp. My eyes want to move to the left where Brian still lies, his body still, but I focus on bloody hands and brown eyes. His gentle touch is a contradiction to the savagery he just displayed.

  “You okay for a minute?” he asks me.

  I’m nodding, but my body is screaming don’t go. Don’t leave me. I start to tremble,
and he wraps the blanket tighter around my shoulders.

  “Ring Russell. Tell him we need a new front door. I’ll move him.” He speaks to his brother before planting a kiss on my head. Brian’s body is dragged by his arms across the wooden floor. His head rocks every time it hits something. But Connor doesn’t slow his pace as he drags him out of the room. I don’t care if he’s dead. I tighten the blanket as Connor’s brother gives a half smile as he rings Russell. A cigarette dangles from his mouth. I can’t manage to smile back, so I focus on the door to the hallway as I wait for Connor to come back. 245 seconds later he returns empty handed.

  “He’ll be here within the hour,” the brother tells Connor who nods.

  “He’s in the trunk. I need you to make sure he doesn’t get out.”

  “No problem.” Before his brother passes him, Connor clamps a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks, Darragh.”

  Darragh nods at Connor. “I got you,” he tells Connor who releases him and returns to me.

  Connor picks me up softly and carries me into the bedroom. Sitting me on the bed, he moves around silently, pulling the curtains and closing the bedroom door. The shower is turned on, and when Connor reappears, he still doesn’t focus on me. He’s rummaging through my drawers taking out clean clothes and placing them on the bed beside me before he turns his attention to me. Removing the blanket, I shiver.

  “I can walk,” I tell him when he tries to pick me up. My legs wobble like jelly, but I make it to the bathroom. It feels like a dream, not a nightmare, as I remove my underwear and bra and step into the spray of the water. The heat rattles my body, and I hold on to the wall. I want to scream into the white tiles, scream all the rage that’s built up inside me. Soft hands touch my back, and I glance at Connor over my shoulder. He’s naked behind me, the water hitting his chest.

  “Let me help you?” he asks, and I nod as he soaps up a cloth and washes every inch of my skin. The care, the gentleness, nearly undoes me again after my body has felt such abuse. Each mark his hands still on, and I realize there is a lot. I haven’t seen my face, but it aches, and each touch burns away the roots of darkness that Brian planted. Each touch is releasing the knots in my chest. Each touch is making me remember that Brian didn’t succeed because Connor stopped him.