by Vi Carter
“Get your ass home now.”
“Seriously, what’s wrong?”
“I’m not discussing it over the phone.” I light a fag and hang up. “I’m out guys. See you tomorrow night.” I wave over my shoulder and don’t look back as they all say goodbye.
Throwing the fag on the ground, I climb into my car. My head still aches slightly and I remove a few more painkillers and wash them down with cold coffee.
***
I’m not even through the front door when Connor is on me. “Where were you?” He frowns at me.
“With some friends. You need me to help you with something?” I ask, hoping we get to hurt some people.
He shakes his head.
“Come on.” He walks away and I follow him through the house and out into the yard. Dread tightens around my throat as we walk into the pool house.
“Are you going to ask me about the girl? Because you acting like last night didn’t happen is disturbing.”
I light up a smoke. “I don’t have a clue what you are talking about.”
“The girl last night who I had to take to the hospital.” He walks over to the couch and my stomach twists.
“Or what about all the blood I had to clean up here last night.”
Flashes of blond hair covered in blood have me squeezing my eyes and the memories slowly drip down.
“Ah, fuck. Is she okay?” I ask.
“So, now you do remember?” Connor walks back towards me and I keep the fag in my mouth as I spread my arms.
“I was high,” I say, but he follows the ashes that falls from my lips. Removing the fag, I’m tempted to throw it into the pool, but Connor would have a hissy fit.
“She had to get thirty-six stitches in her head. She could have bled to death.” Connor is close enough that I smell his cologne. My stomach curls. I need food. Mary’s cookies would be nice now. They just dissolved last night. Funny how I remember the cookies.
“Thank God she’s okay,” I say, but Connor narrows his eyes at me like I’m saying the wrong thing.
“Okay? She’s not okay, she got thirty-six stitches.” He scratches his jaw. “You need to quit the drugs.”
“You need to stop fighting,” I fire back.
He rubs his neck and walks toward the bathroom door, waiting for me to join him.
“What the fuck?” I take a step back, but Connor stops me.
“You clean it up.”
“Get Mary,” I retort and Connor grips my arm.
“I cleaned up your mess last night, you need to clean this up and don’t dare ask Mary.”
I yank my arm from his. “Fine, I’ll do it later.”
Connor shakes his head. “Now, Darragh.”
“I’m not feeling so good,” I say staring at the bathroom.
Connor nudges me towards the door. There’s so much fucking blood and the bathroom looks like someone wrestled in it. Everything is scattered, towels caked in blood lie on the floor, and I step over the first lot of towels. The sink is filled with lumps of what looks like bread. I turn my head and gag into my sleeve. Someone got sick in the sink and blocked it. I turn to tell Connor I’m not cleaning it up after all, but the doorway is empty.
He’s gone.
Pushing the towels aside, I sit down and light up a fag. I’m trying to piece together what could have possibly happened here last night.
I must have used the towels to stop the bleeding, the blood on the shower glass? I wasn’t sure. Maybe she flicked her hair and blood splattered across it? Maybe that was already there from something else. She must have gotten sick, I wasn’t one for puking. The powder on the top of the toilet was cocaine. We must have had sex in here, got high, and came back in here after she fell.
My phone rings and I get it out of my pocket.
“You better have that place shining. Heard Michael saying he was going to take a swim later.” Connor’s voice sounds smug.
“What are you lying for?”
“We’ll see.” He hangs up and I start cleaning. We must have used every towel here. The laundry basket is full. I wipe the powder off the top of toilet and throw my fag into it, before flushing.
After hosing down the shower and straightening the room, I have only one thing left to do. Clean the sick in the sink. The toilet brush is in one hand as I face away and swish it around. I hear the water leaking out and when it’s all gone, I’m left with chunks of food. I gag again, as I turn on the tap, most of it goes down. Getting a towel, I take out the rest and bin the towel along with a toilet brush.
I ring across to the house using the phone in the pool room.
“Hello.”
“Mary, we need fresh towels in the pool house.”
“I only stacked them yesterday.”
“Yeah, I had a party,” I say.
She sighs. “Okay.”
“The laundry basket is full. I’ll bring it over.” I say.
“No. No. I’ll do it.”
I smile into the phone. “Nice one, Mary. Oh, one more thing, can you get a new toilet brush?”
“When I’m out later, I’ll pick one up.”
“I’m going to get you a pay raise,” I say.
She laughs and hangs up on me. She’s well paid but I’ll slip a good word in for her.
***
“It’s all done,” I say.
“I’m in the bar having a drink.” Connor wasn’t exactly a day drinker, but I wouldn’t refuse.
“On the way,” I say as I head into the house.
“You know, I like having you around.”
Connor grins. “I think you like me cleaning up your mess, Darragh, but this is the only time I’m going to do it.”
“You know you’re my favorite brother,” I say.
He glances at me sideways while taking a deep gulp of his beer. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”
I smirk and pop open a bottle of beer. “I’d murder a fry,” I say after drinking half the beer.
“I was serious earlier. I think you should try to stop taking drugs.” The change in topic makes me uncomfortable. So to avoid it, I agree.
“Darragh, you are just throwing away your life.”
I force a smile. “You sound like Dad.”
“Don’t insult me.” His hatred towards our Dad was never hidden, and it’s something that makes me like Connor.
“I can stop. It’s just fun.” I say as Liam enters and I know straight away there goes my fun.
“I’ve been looking for you.” Liam walks into the room with his hands in his pockets, sometimes I question how the fuck we are related.
“You found me,” I tell him.
He doesn’t grin or frown. Nothing. Nada. I wonder how large the stick is that’s rammed up his ass.
“I’m leaving shortly for work and I think a conversation about rules and such is needed.” Liam moves behind the bar, tidies up our caps, and wipes down the small area.
“Would you like another?” he asks Connor.
“Yeah, sure.”
He pops the lid for Connor and places it on a mat in front of him.
“What about me?” I ask.
He faces me. “Rules, Darragh. When you are in my establishment, there will be no alcohol, no drugs.”
I nod.
“No, smoking,” he goes on.
“Nah, Liam, come on.” I widen my arms.
He doesn’t move. “While on your break, you can, but once you are working, it’s a no smoking zone.”
“Fine, I agree to all of the above.” I trace my signature in the air. “You have it signed by air,” I say.
“We leave in five.” Liam just gives a tilt of his head.
“I can take my own car.”
“Your intoxicated, Darragh. You won’t be driving today.” Liam moves towards the door and I give his back the finger as he leaves the room. “Man, I feel like I just got whipped.”
“Yeah, you did.” Connor smirks at me. “I think this will be fun to watch.”
“What? Your brother’s misery?”
“No, the rise of Darragh O’Reagan.” Connor slaps me on the back as he gets up.
“If I don’t come back tonight, Liam has cut me up and stashed me somewhere,” I call to Connor and he just shrugs.
CHAPTER THREE
CIARA
I only just started my shift when I realize I need to get a box of gloves. I had left a box on my trolley, but they’re gone. You’d want to take your cart home with you or it gets fleeced.
“Hi, Benny.”
Benny, who keeps track of inventory, has his head buried in a computer. He glances at me before he returns to his computer.
“What is it?” His fingers hit the keyboard harshly. Friendly as usual.
“I need a box of rubber gloves,” I say and he sighs heavily, like the cost of them was coming out of his wage pack. He sits back, giving his stomach a rest from being squashed against the desk.
“Listen, this isn’t a free for all. You got a box yesterday.”
“Yeah, and someone nicked them off my trolley,” I say in defense.
“Yeah, yeah, you all say that.” He pushes his chair back a ways and rolls to the shelving behind him. I’m praying for a wheel to snap so his fat ass will hit the floor.
No luck.
He rolls back safely with my box of rubber gloves.
Before he hands them to me, his gaze flicks to my hair. “Blue dye isn’t allowed.”
“Are you discriminating against my hair color?”
He sits up a little straighter. “That’s not discrimination.” He clutches the gloves to his sweaty chest.
“I was born like this, so it is,” I say, and he narrows his already squinted eyes at me.
“No one is born with blue hair.”
“Google it,” I say and hope he does on his own time. Luckily, he bypasses his computer and hands me the gloves. I sign for them.
“Nice doing business with you, Benny,” I call over my shoulder, but he’s buried in the computer again, no doubt googling if you can be born with blue hair.
“Boss is here.” One of the girls, I can’t remember her name, tells me as we pass each other in the hall.
“Thanks.” As I turn the corner, I curse my luck. The boss stands at the room that I’m meant to be cleaning. A blond-haired guy who looks like he had a few too many drinks is beside him.
“Mr. O’Reagan,” I say as I approach.
Liam’s gaze snaps to the gloves in my hand and he gestures for me to enter the room. Fear skitters up my back when the blond guy enters too. Liam knows the drill, I’m a cleaner, and that’s it. I flick the blond guy a look as he stares around the room.
“Ciara.”
A shiver races across my body at the use of my name.
“This is Darragh, my brother, and he is here to work with you.”
Darragh looks like he belongs on some catwalk, not cleaning hotel rooms, especially ones used by prostitutes.
“Okay, I’m not completely down with that, so you want us to be like a double act. I suppose I can do that.” Darragh winks at me and my confusion deepens. “But I won’t do men,” Darragh adds as he shrugs out of a suit jacket that looks like it cost my yearly salary. “Nor trannies or fatties.” He continues his inappropriate spiel.
I’m speechless, which isn’t something that happens often. Liam closes the door gently behind him and I take a step back.
“Darragh, you will be helping Ciara clean the rooms.” Liam waits for Darragh to absorb that information.
Darragh’s mouth hangs open and there is something almost comical about it. A part of me wants to walk over and push his chin up. But I don’t. I stay close to the wall, clutching my rubber gloves and praying that this will all be over soon.
“Come on, Liam. I could do other jobs. Like, help get the newbies to relax.” Darragh grins like he’s God’s gift. “Okay, if that doesn’t suit, how about the bar work or driving cars? I don’t know, but not cleaning. I mean, do I look like a cleaner?” He looks at me like he just remembered I was here. “No offence or anything.”
“None taken,” I say drily.
“There are no negotiations, if you leave Ciara, she will inform me and there will be consequences.” When Liam turns to me, I want to sink into the wall, he has a way of making me squirm without saying a word. “If he leaves and you don’t inform me, you’re fired.” That wasn’t fair, but I keep my mouth shut and nod.
Liam gives his brother a final nod and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.
Darragh folds his arms as he chews on a nail, and I know this isn’t going to end well.
I start cleaning and my movements snap him out of whatever inner turmoil the poor rich kid was experiencing.
Pulling off the sheets, he jumps back like he might catch something. “Did someone just use that bed?” he asks.
“No, I’m pulling off clean sheets because I don’t have enough work,” I say in a monotone voice. He looks at me twice before moving to the wall and sitting on the ground. The ground wasn’t any cleaner than the bed, but I didn't tell him that. It takes forty minutes to put a room back together.
“Now we go to the next room.” I inform him.
“I can’t believe this is what he’s making me do.” He pats his jacket and trousers. “He took my fucking phone.”
He’s staring at me like I can help him. I can’t. I take the dirty laundry and place it under my trolley as I move to the next room. The moment we enter, Darragh goes back to sitting on the ground.
“Are you going to help?” I ask him as I open the curtains.
“Look, no offence or anything, but I don’t do this kind of work. I know you women love it, so knock yourself out.”
“Wow,” I say as I stare down at him. Now I can see why Liam left him here.
I move on to making the bed when he says, “Okay, I found a loophole. Liam said I can’t leave you. But you can come with me.”
“Genius,” I say drily as I start to polish the bedside tables. I’m aware of his movement’s as he gets up and stands, he towers over me.
“I need a smoke,” he pleads.
“Declan, I have ten rooms…”
“It’s Darragh.” He sounds so offended.
“I have ten rooms to clean before my shift ends, if we leave now, I won’t get them finished on time.”
“Don’t you have breaks?” He sounds appalled.
“Yeah, but not right now.”
“But, can’t you take it right now, just this once?” He’s smiling at me, trying to charm me.
“Sorry, Derek. No,” I say and continue polishing.
“It’s Darragh,” he says.
I’ve left the door open and Darragh hovers close to it. I’m keeping a close eye on him and trying to clean. This is like babysitting a moody toddler.
“Hi, you, come here.” A brunette is walking past. She’s also a cleaner and she smiles up at him as he calls her over.
“Me?” she questions while pointing at herself.
“What’s your name?” He places a hand on the door frame as he stares down at her.
I roll my eyes.
“Mandy.”
“Mandy, I’m Liam’s brother.”
Silence makes me look up.
Mandy isn’t smiling, she is walking away.
“No, don’t go,” he calls after her, but she doesn’t stop. “Motherfucker!”
“When’s break time?” he asks me.
“Once we do the next room we can take a twenty-minute break,” I say and disappear into the bathroom to clean. When I return, he’s sitting on the bed I just made.
“Are we ready?” he asks, standing up.
I straighten the bed behind him before going to the next room. “Maybe if you helped, we could make break time a lot faster.”
He snorts. “I’m not from your neck of the woods.”
“And where is my neck of the woods?”
He looks me up and down. My mind screams at me to move, but I don�
�t. “You know.” He shrugs.
“Actually I don’t,” I respond.
He runs his hands through his hair. “You’re very lippy for a cleaner.”
“You’re very lazy for a cleaner,” I retort.
He’s standing even taller now, shoulders held back. “I’m not a fucking cleaner.”
Talking to him is making me want to set my brain on fire. I start cleaning.
“Look, no offence,” he says.
“You’re fine, David,” I respond.
He shifts from one foot to another. “Now, I know you’re taking the piss.” His agitation is growing and something tells me to stay quiet and just clean, so that’s what I do.
***
He’s half running down the corridor pushing the trolley. “Come on, Ciara.”
I want to smack him so much. If it was anyone else, I would be long gone. But when Liam told you to do something, you just did it.
“Coming,” I say sweetly, catching up with him.
“I need twenty smokes.”
I open my hand and he looks at my open palm.
“What?” His brows furrow.
“Money.” I want to add the name Drew. But I don’t want to push my luck.
“I don’t have any on me right now. But, I’ll give it back.”
“You better,” I warn him as we reach the locker room. He’s hovering over me and I widen my eyes at him, making him back up. Removing my purse, we head downstairs. There’s a fag machine in the hall.
The minute the pack falls into the slot, he reaches to get them.
“Didn’t know you could move so fast,” I say as he unwraps them.
“Come on.” He’s already walking away.
“I need to get food,” I say.
He tuts. “Get it then.”
He comes with me as I get my fruit out of the small fridge in the canteen. He doesn’t speak as we make our way outback.
I’m standing outside with a group of smokers that find Darragh hilarious. I’ve finished my banana and now move onto my apple. Sitting on the step of a door, I just study Darragh and no one notices me. His humor has picked up, and he’s all laughs and smiles. Telling tall tales that couldn’t be true. Like how he took on three men at once for hitting on his woman, who he didn’t keep in the end. The apple is nearly gone and Darragh lights up another fag.