Heart of Siren (Merworld Book 1)
Page 17
“This is not a joke, Orla. The dagger is only an object. Now you’re talking about a person. God knows what he’ll ask you to do for the next installment. The guy kidnapped someone in New York and will transport her all the way to London. You can’t tell me he’s a small timer who picks pockets for a living.”
“Lorcan, I accepted the job. You know I have to go through with it—with or without you. That’s two million. I might save a life for two million. The next lot will be three times at much. That’s six million . . .”
“Orla, you don’t need that money. I can take care of you, of us. We can go back to Ireland and live the lives we want . . .”
“Says who? Lorcan Brody? Yeah right.” Orla sneered and felt her words bubbling in her throat as she fought back tears. She did feel uneasy about the job. But the client had been good to her so far. This shouldn’t be an exception. “Two million might mean nothing to you. But it means a lot to me. I need that money.”
“No, you don’t.”
“The vase I broke yesterday cost one million.”
“What? You don’t deliver the job, you don’t take the fee. How could that cost you a million?”
“Volkov runs one of the most notorious underground dealer networks in Europe. He missed out on a deal with his client because I didn’t deliver. It cost him money, and he charged me for that.”
“What the fuck?”
“He’s not someone to mess around with, Lorcan. I can pay him that money. I just have to take this new job. That lump sum payout for Volkov put a dent in my budget.”
“Budget for what?”
She shrugged and didn’t answer the question.
“It’s only a couple of million. I don’t want you to take the job. I can take care of the money.”
“Listen to yourself, Lorcan! I don’t want you to ask for favors from your family. You can’t take care of me. I take of myself and my problems. I can’t go back to Ireland empty-handed.”
“I don’t need my family’s money to take care of us. Why do you think I’ve hung around you all these years, working at that pathetic IT company?”
Orla waved her arms in the air. “You just want to stay in London. You want to prove to your family that you can be independent from them. Isn’t it obvious?”
“And you play no role in this? You have no part in my life and my decisions? What am I to you, Orla? Your fuck buddy?”
Orla slapped him hard across the face. Lorcan fell onto the coffee table, pushing the pizza onto the floor.
“Whatever you do, you still have a family to come back to. They love you. I don’t even have a last name.”
Lorcan rubbed at his jaw. “That’s because you didn’t want your last name. You can take mine. Be a Brody.”
She stared at him. “I slap you, and you propose to me. How romantic. Are you nuts? Get out.”
“I . . .”
“I said get out.”
Lorcan stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. Orla sat down. She felt like weeping, but she held on. She would give him ten seconds to come back.
Ten seconds passed.
Twenty.
Thirty.
There was still no Lorcan in her apartment. It was quiet except for the sound of the clock ticking on the wall. There was no sound of him clicking on his mouse or tapping on the keyboard. There was no reduced sound of all the games he watched on his computer while trying not to annoy her at the same time. There was none of his loud laughter. And there were certainly no gorgeous smiles or witty comments about the jokes she made about her clients.
Without him, her existence didn’t seem to count as much. What she was doing and about to do didn’t seem to matter. She ran out of the apartment, down the corridor, to the empty foyer, and outside the building, but all she found was emptiness.
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HEART OF SIREN
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