by Vi Carter
“I’m pretty sure you can’t bring in a packed lunch.”
“I’ll cover it.”
“No.” I shake my head.
“You’re so awkward. Fine bring your lunch. I’ll sort it.”
I grab my food out of the fridge and it’s intimidating as everyone watches me. Darragh taps his foot and with each tap, I slow down until he stops.
I’d never sat in the restaurant but I’d cleaned it many times. The large crystal chandeliers are a killer to dust. I remember that part clearly.
It was odd being at the opposite side of the table as a waitress steps up. Her eyes linger on me for a second before she turns her attention to Darragh. “What can I get for you?”
He doesn’t even look at the menu. “Two steak dinners, with chips and I’ll have a Coke.” Darragh turns to me and I shake my head. “Make that two Cokes,” he tells the waitress, who disappears.
“I told you I had lunch,” I say patting my food beside me.
“Don’t take that out, or you’ll get us both kicked out of here.”
“You said you’d sort it,” I say.
“I did. Sort it.”
I sit back folding my arms. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Do you fight with every guy who takes you for a steak dinner?” He grins like he knows no guy has ever taken me for a steak dinner.
The waitress returns with our drinks, but Darragh waits for my answer.
“Only the ones who trick me into it,” I answer lamely.
“So, you get tricked into a lot of dinners. I’m not surprised.” He takes a deep swallow from the glass.
“What does that mean?” I ask, not touching mine. A part of me wants to rebel a bit longer.
“You’re very hostile and snappy. The only way to deal with you is to trick you.”
“You’re not nice, either. You’re very arrogant and mean.” I drink my Coke as he digests my words.
“Mean?” One eyebrow arches in amusement.
“Yes. Mean,” I say.
“Give me an example.”
“I have examples coming out of my ears. You called me a dyke.”
“You called me gay,” he fires back.
“The moment we met you thought I was a worker,” I say with raised eyebrows.
“But you are a worker.” He says each word slowly.
“I’m a cleaner.”
He snorts. “A prostitute. Yeah that was a stupid mistake.” He laughs.
“See, you just did it again.” I sit back so done with talking to him, he just couldn’t help himself.
“Now you’re confusing the shit out of me. First, you’re insulted that I think you’re a pro and now you’re insulted because I don’t think you’re one. You have to make up your mind, Blue.”
“I’m not explaining myself,” I answer as the waitress arrives with our food.
Darragh rubs his hands together and inhales deeply.
I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face.
When he notices I haven’t started to eat, he looks at me. “Dig in.”
I do and the food is divine.
“So what do you do other than pretending to be a cleaner?” I ask when my stomach starts to fill up.
“I’m a farmer,” He says.
I choke on a chip.
Darragh has to smack me on the back until I cough it up. Real ladylike.
“You don’t believe I’d shovel shit, or pull the tit of a cow?” He grins.
I roll my eyes. Everything is about sex with him. “You like it?” I ask. Both his brows raise in surprise at my question.
“I’m going to a party tonight; you want to come?”
Now I’m laughing. When I realize he isn’t messing I sober up and take a drink of Coke. “You’re serious?”
He nods.
“Hmm. No.” I answer.
“If you change your mind text me,” he says.
I look at him sideways. “Sure,” I tell him.
I don’t have his number to text him and he doesn’t have mine. He’s just trying to be friendly. The food is like lead in my stomach, and I put my knife and fork down.
“Are you finished?” he asks, still eating.
I nod and sit back and take in the restaurant with its amazing artwork, and chandeliers that sparkle over our heads. I wonder what it would be like to have money, to be able to have an operation like this. What would it be like to burn your friend’s money because you could? To have steak for your lunch, or get paid to sit on the floor and watch someone clean. Life was funny.
The extremes between Darragh and I were stark. I wonder if he is put here to remind me of how far I am from a life without financial worries. The divide between us is so large.
“You okay?” Darragh asks.
I sit up. “Yeah just thinking about Peaches.” I lie.
“That your girlfriend?” Darragh smirks.
I place my knife and fork neatly on my plate. “My cat. I’m not into girls.”
“Okay, calm down.” He wipes his mouth on the napkin and pulls one leg up onto the other as he faces me. This close to him is intimidating. He’s a big guy, and this close you’d think you’d find a flaw, but I can’t, not even a blemish. Sitting this close makes me more aware of myself.
I take the napkin and dab my mouth.
“So, you have a pussy cat.” He keeps a straight face.
“Are you that deprived of a woman’s touch that you can’t stop talking about sex?”
He snorts at my question. “You saw me yesterday.”
I nod. “Yeah, with two women you paid to touch you.”
“I don’t always have to pay them, sweetheart. Just sometimes I like to take control.”
I shake my head telling myself to let it go. “No, I bet you’ve never really been intimate without being drunk or high.”
“You’re wrong again. I actually have.”
I wasn’t buying what he was selling. But my face is on fire so I need to get off this topic. “Have you got any pets?”
“Yeah, lots of them.” He winks and I’m not sure what he’s implying.
The waitress makes her way to our table, stopping my response. “Was everything okay?” She looks at me a bit longer before diverting her attention to Darragh. Is she wondering what a guy like him is doing with someone like me? I’m tempted to tell her I’m only here because his spoiled ass wouldn’t sit in the canteen. If his brother hadn’t threatened him, we wouldn’t be speaking.
“Perfect, thanks,” Darragh answers and hands her his gold card.
I gather my lunch and stand up as he waits for his card. I mumble a thank you. I know I owe him, and I don’t like owing people favors. We leave the restaurant and go back to the room we were cleaning. The moment we enter the room Darragh sits back down in his spot. I don’t know why but I really thought he might actually help.
“What’s your number?”
I glance at him and he widens his eyes at me, while holding his phone.
I recite my number to him and jump a few seconds later when my phone vibrates in my apron. Taking out my phone an unknown number fills the screen.
“It’s me,” Darragh says with humor. “Just thought you tricked me. That would be your style.”
I’m not sure what to say. I save the number as Man Whore and slip the phone back into my pocket.
We finish the rest of the ten rooms and pack up to go at four o’clock. There is an awkward moment as I stuff things into my locker because Darragh just stands there.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say wondering, why he isn’t leaving.
“You need a lift?”
Yes, I do. “No. I already have the taxi organized to come.”
“You sure?” he quizzes and I nod.
“Okay, Blue. See you tomorrow.” Darragh’s voice sounds cheerful. I’m left in the locker room not sure how I’m feeling at all.
CHAPTER SEVEN
DARRAGH
I can’t believe DJ brought Ma
rk here. “Are you serious?” I scream at him over the beat of music.
“Look, he’s ready to forget the whole incident with you beating him. I swear I’ll keep him in line.”
Gripping DJ by the back of his neck, I pull his head close to mine. “You better, DJ.” I warn him.
He grins. “So we good?” he asks.
I smirk. “Not even close.”
His grin slips and my smile widens.
The club is full and the music vibrates through the floor. The moment Art spots me he’s up and howls into the air like a fucking wolf. High as a kite, he jumps off the couch and hugs me.
“The king is here.”
My eyes land on Fitz, who’s wearing the same fucking clothes he wore when we robbed the ATM. I needed to replace his money. The guy needed it badly. “What’s up, Fitz.”
He smiles while bobbing his head and nursing a bottle of beer in his hands. No doubt the liquid was warm. I was late to the party.
Art throws his arm around my shoulder. “You need to take a piss?”
I pause, not sure why. But another part of me thinks fuck it, and I walk with him to the bathroom.
The drugs work quickly and I can’t seem to focus on myself in the bathroom mirror. Blood trickles from my nose and I wipe it away before washing my hands in the sink. I spot a girl in a small silver dress as she walks into the men’s toilets. Art finishes up and he stares at her as she walks past him.
“Is that bad coke?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nah, that’s good stuff.” The girl hikes her dress up and backs her ass into the urinal and pisses. Art pulls out his phone to take photos of her.
“You’re a dirty bitch,” I say.
She gives me the finger. “Was busting to go.” She stands up and pulls her dress back down. I remind myself not to touch her later. She winks and walks past me. I shudder.
“That’s fucked up,” Art says stuffing his phone in his pocket.
We re-enter the club. Art disappears, showing anyone who will look at the photo of the girl. I stay with DJ, Fitz, and Mark, who wants to be my best friend now. That shit will never happen. I drink way too much and my nose burns and bleeds from all the coke I snort. I’m sweating so I pull off my jumper, but my body doesn’t want to cool down. My heart feels like it’s skipping a beat. I sit back and clutch my chest.
“Put back on your clothes.” A gruff voice sounds from above me.
I open my eyes to a large guy all dressed in black standing over me. “Fuck off. This is VIP and I paid a grand to have the section for the night.”
“You have to put your clothes back on.” The hulk isn’t listening.
I pat my chest to find it bare. My trousers are on, but my socks and shoes are also gone.
“I’m too hot,” I mumble and close my eyes. Hands grip my arm, my eyes snap open. “Take your big ugly hand off me,” I say.
He ignores me and pulls me up from my seat. Glass shatters across the floor and I stare at Fitz and the broken bottle in his hand. Laughter bubbles up my throat. The security man doesn’t remove his hand from mine, but calls for backup.
“Let him go, now,” Fitz warns.
The jackass doesn’t listen. I push my body weight against his and the move is unexpected. We tumble down the few steps that lead up to the VIP area. The crowd scatters. We fall and they start cheering us. The noise, the drugs, and the painful thump in my chest makes me feel possessed. I lace into the security man. I’m no match for him as he’s fucking huge, but I get a few thumps in before I’m pulled off him and dragged outside.
When the Gardai arrive, I’m disappointed in the security. “Can’t take care of me yourself? You got to ring in reinforcements?” I sneer as two Gardai approach me.
“Gardai Síochána. Have you no real criminals to catch? Always arresting the innocent citizens.”
One of Gardai takes a statement from the Security man. Fitz is dragged past me laughing his head off. A second squad arrives, and he’s put into the back. The cold of the night is starting to hit me and I shiver.
“Gardai,” I call.
He looks at me.
“I’m freezing, would you mind putting me in the car?” I ask.
The fucker ignores me.
“You are useless at your job. Out here breaking up bar fights, you’re not fit to catch the real criminals. How do you sleep at night? Your wives must find it hard to get aroused looking at you two messes.”
One of the officer’s rams me against the wall. “You’d do well to shut your mouth, Darragh.”
“Oh, you know my name. I’m fucking terrified."
“I said shut up.”
The security man relays his terrifying tale of his assault to the Gardai.
“You’re a pussy,” I say.
The other Gardai comes and places me in the back of the car, banging my head in the process.
“I’d hit you back, only that would be animal abuse,” I sneer.
The door slams in my face and I sit back in the seat and close my eyes.
Two more doors slam but I keep my eyes closed.
“You’re in serious trouble,” one of them says.
I want to tell him to fuck off but the rumble of the engine puts me to sleep. Cold air rushes in as the door opens again. I’m dragged from the Gardai car and into the station. “Take it easy you moron. My feet,” I tell them, but they move me faster.
“You think you’re funny. You will be laughing when I find out where you live.” He hits me on the back of the head.
“You think you’re the big man with your baton?” I push myself against the Gardai and he hits me back. He pushes me back and I stumble but catch my balance.
The other Gardai with the receding hairline pushes me forward and doesn’t stop nudging me until they close the door to my cell.
The bench is cold as I lie down and hug myself. I just want to sleep.
Blood. There’s so much blood. I’m staring at it on my hands, and my eyes follow the trail that soaks up into the blond hair. The girl’s head is open and maggots crawl everywhere. My eyes snap open as I roll off the bench and empty the contents of my stomach on the ground. The creek of the door opening doesn’t stop the assault on my stomach.
“You’ve made bail.”
The words are spoken with humor as I bring up bile before standing straight.
“I was starting to like this place,” I say, wiping my mouth with my arm. “Enjoy cleaning that up.” The Gardai’s irritation makes my vomit on the floor almost seem sweet.
“Get out.” His hand digs into my back as he pushes in front of him. I’m tempted to turn around and push him back.
A guy in a suit stands with his back to me. It’s Liam. I’m fucked now. Liam is signing something while they remove the handcuffs from my wrists. He doesn’t turn around to make sure I’m following him. We make our way to his Range Rover. He opens the door, I climb in and shiver again as he starts the jeep.
“I’m starting to think they are targeting me,” I say, stealing a quick glance at Liam.
He doesn’t react.
“Look man, I know it’s shit you having to bail me out. But I didn’t do anything wrong this time.” I sound pathetic.
No response.
“Liam.”
“Yes, Darragh?” Liam is focused on the road. His voice doesn’t rise or fall. Nothing.
Clenching my fists, I face the window. “Nothing.”
Silence fills the jeep and seems to stretch out like the dark road in front of us. All want is a smoke but don’t have them on me.
***
We pull into the garage and it’s then that Liam speaks. “It wasn’t me. He took the call to come down and get you.”
“Father?” I ask, staring out the window and into the dark space.
“We meet him in the library.”
I glance at Liam. I want him to tell me it will be okay, but he gets out of the jeep.
I shiver again as my bare feet touch the concrete floor. The smell of rus
t from the recent rain lingers in the air.
“Get some clothes on, I’ll meet you at the library.” Liam doesn’t linger and I follow behind him taking the stairs two at a time.
When I open my bedroom door I want to collapse on my bed. My bed is unmade and I move towards it. Rubbing my face, I start to look for socks, shoes, and a clean top. Getting a fresh pack of smokes and a lighter from my stash, I light it up as I walk through the house. I need it before I face these two.
Both of them sit across from each other, each in a suit, at this hour in the fucking morning. It had to be six, six thirty maybe.
“Put out the cigarette.” Father doesn’t look up at me as he speaks. I take two final pulls before putting it out in a large crystal ashtray that sits on a small round table near the couch. When I look up, it’s Liam who’s watching me. He points to another large couch across from him and Father. Nothing like an interrogation this early in the morning.
My ass is only just on the couch when Father starts. “I’m at a loss with you, Darragh. Each time I think you have settled down; you do something stupid.” His voice rises on the last word.
“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” The lie comes easily.
“It will. It keeps happening.” Father’s calm voice makes me sit up straighter. I glance at Liam who hasn’t taken his eyes off me.
“I’m cutting you off.” Father stands and places a hand in his pocket. He stares down at the rug as he speaks.
“What does that mean? From the family?” My heart starts to pound.
“No, Darragh.”
Relief at Father’s words has me sitting back.
“From my money. You will have no access to any funds.”
I grin but it slips, as my heart jack hammers in my chest. “How would I buy anything?” I ask through gritted teeth.
“Get a job,” he snaps.
“I have one. Remember?” I bite out the last word.
Father gives me a warning look. “Sitting on the floor in each room that is cleaned is not working. Unless you start working Darragh, there is no more money.”
“Fine. Take your money. I’ll get my own,” I say, standing.
Father steps into my space. “How, Darragh?”