Irish

by Dusty Lassetter

  “Make it a Benjamin and we have a deal.”

  Teller and I are keeping quiet while these two fools go back and forth. This has always been their relationship. The competitive nature between the two is forever ongoing.

  “You’re on. I’ll even give her half if she does a good job,” Saint states.

  We are still laughing at his crass statement when the waitress walks back toward our table. She continues to stare at Saint as she places our glasses down, nearly spilling Hammer’s in his lap.

  “Is there anything else I can get you?” She asks in one of those voices that let’s every one of us know Hammer’s wallet is about to get lighter.

  “You care to show me where the bathrooms are?”

  I don’t know how Saint does it, but he could have a bride standing at the altar throwing her panties at him in seconds. This man’s ability to look at any woman and get her in the sack is admiring. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not incapable of getting women fast. It’s never been with a single look though. I have to throw in my accent, then it’s like cutting butter with a heated knife.

  “Follow me,” she replies, in a seductive tone. Not realizing she doesn’t have to do anything further to get Saint’s attention.

  “Just take the fucking money,” Hammer grumbles.

  “I’ll be back.”

  Saint swipes the money off the table as he follows the waitress toward the back of the diner. I would love nothing more than to give Hammer a hard time right now, but my throat is dry and the iced-tea is calling my name.

  “He’s supposed to be here by now,” I finally say after quenching my thirst.

  Teller is sitting across from me, facing the large glass door, so when I see him lift his chin in that direction I get what he is saying without talking. Sitting up just a bit straighter in my chair, I watch as the man that just walked up tries to squeeze his fat ass inbetween the chair and table. He can’t put any more space between the two unless he wants to be sitting with the people enjoying their meal behind him, so he has to maneuver without moving his chair.

  “I thought there was going to be four of you?”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Hammer says, “all we need to discuss is the drop off point and the payment.”

  I feel sorry for Teller as the guy stretches his arms out and the smell of his bad odor is strong enough for me to gag. The look on my friend’s face is one I will never forget.

  “Where’s Debbie?” He asks, stopping another waitress that was trying to avoid coming near his foul-smelling body.

  “She disappeared right before you showed up,” the younger girl replies before hightailing it away.

  “Who’s Debbie?” I question, knowing he is referring to the girl Saint has occupied in the back.

  “My daughter,” he answers. “She told me she worked today.”

  The looks that pass between Hammer, Teller, and myself should have been captured. Not only are we amazed that someone as ugly as him managed to find a female to reproduce with, we are also stunned silent that his offspring looks the way she does. This deal is going to go south quicker than his daughter if he finds out what our enforcer is up to in the restroom.

  I start to squirm in my seat, not because I am scared of what might go down, not at all, I do it out of anticipation. Teller has the perfect view of the front door, but in my line of sight is Saint and Debbie walking out of what I assume to be the bathroom door. She is fixing her hair that looks like Saint had a firm grip of while looking at him with stars in her eyes.

  When they make it to our table, Saint, completely oblivious to the relationship between his latest conquest and our new client, slaps Debbie on the ass before asking her to grab him another chair. She looks absolutely mortified by Saint’s actions. Only because her daddy is now here to witness how loose she is with her body.

  “You son of a bitch,” the oversized man, who I don’t even know by his first name, starts hollering out while trying to rock his big ass out of the tight spot he squeezed in. It isn’t until Teller grabs him by his thinning hair and places a blade to his throat that he begins to quiet down…

  “I thought Teller was going to slice the head off that poor fat bastard,” Hammer laughs out.

  “Yeah, but those two have always been like that. You don’t take on one without taking on the other. It’s what I admire most about the brothers.”

  “I still can’t believe he tipped that girl my hundred-dollar bill before we left.”

  “He said it was one of the best blow jobs of his life. Can’t blame a man for rewarding a woman for her efforts.”

  “Do you think he’ll wake up?”

  Hammer asks me this question every time we are through reminiscing about the old days. I usually tell him what the doctors told all of us several times. It would take a miracle, but miracles happen everyday. Saint is more than deserving of one, and so is Teller. As far as I see it, the odds are in their favor as far as miracles are concerned.

  “You know what? I think he will.”

  Ashley

  For the past three nights, I’ve been taking melatonin to help me sleep. I like that it’s not a prescribed sleeping pill, so when my dreams start to feel too much like reality I can easily wake myself up. I don’t think I would be able to take something that kept me trapped in my nightmare like those kids from the Freddy Kruger movies. I have Casey to thank for recommending the special supplement to me. She and I still talk every other day, and she has even managed to weasel her way back into my good graces. After talking with Tony, I understand why she did what she did. Slasher is a real threat, especially since I now know it’s Scarlett he wants. His enemies are keeping her from him. I have no doubt if I don’t do what is asked of me when the times comes, Slasher will keep good on his promise to take me in her place.

  “What are you going to get?”

  The question Serenity asks is muffled by the menu she is holding in front of her face, but I still manage to hear because the restaurant we are eating at is completely dead. We are the only two diners here, probably because Taz insisted we eat right when they open. I didn’t exactly want Mexican food at ten-thirty in the morning, but I’ll take what I can get. Just leaving the compound is worth the heartburn I’ll have all day.

  “Enchiladas have always been my go to. No point in changing that now.”

  “You should try their chimichanga. It’s delicious,” Serenity says, placing the menu back in the holder sitting to our right.

  The waitress chooses this time to walk up to us, pen and paper at the ready to write down our order. I think she was waiting just around the corner, watching us to know exactly when to walk up. I guess it’s easy to be vigilant when you only have one table to wait on. Serenity gives the young lady her simple order, only changing the way her rice is made before I tell her I would like the same. I trust my new friend when she says the chimichanga will be the best thing I’ve ever tasted.

  “Do you think Taz went back to the truck to watch you through binoculars?”

  I ask this because it wasn’t easy to convince him to let us go to lunch. I’ve been wanting to talk to Serenity more, mostly about how she makes being in a relationship look so easy, but I didn’t want to do it at the clubhouse. There are always eyes and ears watching and listening to everything that goes on. I need this conversation to be kept private.

  “Probably, but he wasn’t going to let me leave the clubhouse by myself. Not with Slasher still roaming free.”

  “I wanted to talk to you about that,” I state. “Well, I wanted to talk to you about several things actually. Slasher is just one.”

  “I had a feeling you needed to, that’s why I wasn’t taking no for an answer from Mr. Grumpy outside.”

  We both start laughing at her nickname for Taz. He does truly remind me of the grumpy cat everyone was always posting about on social media. He has that same sore expression on his face ninety percent of the time. It’s a miracle he managed to reel in a catch as good as Serenity.

&n
bsp; “At the risk of prying too much into your relationship with Taz, I’ve been wondering what exactly you were able to forgive him for.” Once the statement is out, I realize I have made it seem like someone has been feeding me information on the two of them. Acting quickly to clarify, I state, “I’m only curious because you said Taz was able to pull his head out of his ass.”

  “I did say that, didn’t I.”

  Taking a small sip of my iced tea, I patiently wait for her to explain what she meant.

  “Taz and I haven’t always had a good relationship, even before we were abducted. I honestly think we would have ended up together sooner had Slasher not inserted himself into the picture.”

  “You mean you weren’t a couple when he took you guys?”

  “No. However, I like to think he cared for me like I did him, but the games Slasher played put a giant wedge between us. What he did to us was awful, and Taz blamed himself for not being able to protect me.”

  “Is that when you grew close to Tony?”

  I ask the question just as our food is brought out. The waitress places the steaming chimichangas in front of us, smiling sweetly. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

  “No,” I begin. “We should be good for a while.”

  I sneak the last part in hoping she gets the message not to interrupt us until we signal for the check. When she nods her head and walks away with a smile, I know she has received the hint. Looking down at my plate of Spanish rice, refried beans, and cheesy goodness, I dig in while Serenity takes a bite of hers before responding to my question.

  “Yeah. I don’t think I would have been able to make it through that dark time without him. He was a good friend to have in my corner. Especially when I felt like I had no one else. Even if he did keep you a secret from everyone, including me.”

  “You mean to tell me he wasn’t bragging about sleeping with twin sisters?”

  My comment is meant to come off as a joke. Instead of allowing her remark to bother me, I prefer to play it off. That’s what I do best. Knowing Tony didn’t care enough to at least bring me up in casual conversation hurts not only my pride, but my heart.

  “Irish did talk to me when Allison showed up. He didn’t go into too much detail, but I could tell you meant something to him. Ashley, I don’t think he ever slept with Allison. As far as I know, he married her then left town.”

  “I had never thought of the timeline before, but that would make sense,” I mumble, while pushing the food that no longer looks good around on my plate.

  “You want my advice?” Serenity questions without waiting for an answer. “It’s better to forgive the man you love than to forget him. If you thought you could truly do the latter you wouldn’t be sitting here with me. You’re afraid of what might happen if you do give Irish another chance, but have you thought about what your life is going to be like if you don’t?”

  Returning back to the clubhouse after a fantastic lunch with Serenity, I start hunting for the next person that’s on my list to talk to. Allison is my sister. That will never change, regardless of the cruel things she has done. Like I’ve done multiple times in the past, I am going to give her a chance to explain herself. The only difference is, this time it won’t be so easy to excuse away her transgressions.

  “I’m looking for my sister, have you seen her?” I ask Torch because he is the first person I see when I walk into the main hangout room.

  “That crazy bitch went to The Honey Hole with Hammer.” He replies, not at all concerned that I might get offended with the way he referred to Allison. This man is so crass. He really is the perfect match for Mia.

  “Do you know when they will be back?”

  “No, but Irish is in the kitchen. He was talking to Hammer right before they left.”

  Getting the hint that he is finished with our conversation, I walk into the kitchen to ask Allison’s husband when she might return. Of course, I don’t refer to him as such because the look he sends my way when I do is enough to make me feel like a shitty person. Instead, I call him what I always have.

  “Tony, do you know when Hammer and Allison are supposed to return from eating?”

  At first glance, all I notice is the shamrock green shirt he is wearing that says “kiss me I’m Irish.” Looking past the silly clothing at the clock hanging on the wall, I see that it’s fifteen past noon. I guess it would be the perfect time to have lunch. I wonder if Taz would’ve let Serenity and I eat at a normal lunchtime if we went to The Honey Hole instead of the Mexican restaurant.

  “Who told you they were eating?” He asks, taking a bottled water from the refrigerator. As he starts guzzling down the liquid like a starved man, I try not to stare at his perfect lips. I remember a time when I would watch as he placed feather light kisses across my body, murmuring about all the wicked things he wanted to do to me. How he could make me feel weak with emotion just by kissing me with a passion that’s impossible to forget.

  “Ahem,” clearing my throat, and mind, I eventually find my voice to answer his question. “Torch said they went to a restaurant. He also said you were talking to them right before they left.”

  “Did Torch tell you what kind of restaurant it was?”

  I’m confused by the laughter lines forming on his face, and by the way his eyes are shining with amusement. I feel like I’ve walked in mid conversation, and he knows something I don’t. However, that would be ridiculous considering I am the one that asked the question which lead to this strange discussion.

  “The Honey Hole.”

  Smiling like the Grinch that stole Christmas, Irish starts twisting the cap back onto his water bottle before walking toward me. Now that he isn’t hidden by the counters, I can see that he is wearing light colored jeans with black chains hanging from the wallet that must be in his pocket.

  “What’s going on?” I question, not at all liking the look on his face.

  “Nothing. I just wasn’t aware Allison liked sushi.”

  Just the thought of eating raw fish is repulsive, and I can’t help being thankful Taz demanded we eat where we did. I can’t stomach fish, period. There is no way I would be able to swallow something slimy and cold.

  “Just another thing her and I differ from,” I mumble.

  “Believe me I know. If there was even a small chance you liked sushi, you and I would’ve explored that further.”

  He ends his short statement while waggling his eyebrows and digging into his pants pocket for a cinnamon stick. Knowing I was the one that got him addicted to the tasty toothpicks makes me proud. I remember what it was like for him when he would have a hard time controlling all that stored energy. To know that I found something he enjoys,and helps with that makes me happy.

  “What are you not saying?” I question, purposely raising an eyebrow to show my confusion.

  “The Honey Hole isn’t a restaurant, Ashley. It’s a strip club your sister works at.”

  Finally, understanding dawns on me, and I grasp his sushi reference. Taking the back of my hand, I give him a playful slap on the chest. Directly on the word that reads “Irish”. The deep laughter that flows from his belly makes my face burn with embarrassment. It’s always been incredibly easy for people to pull my chain. It’s like I have a sign on my back that tells everyone how gullible I am.

  “Why would she work there?” I question, attempting to get him to focus on something other than my humiliation. Here I thought my sister was nasty enough to eat raw food while Tony was making underlying jokes about said food actually being a woman’s vagina.

  “Because she enjoys eating all the raw fish she wants for free,” I hear my sister joke from behind me. I turn around, and sure enough there is Allison standing in the doorway. The revealing outfit she is wearing reminds me of something Daisy Duke would have in her closet. I never noticed it until now, but she does dress like someone who is not afraid to take off her clothes for money.

  After nothing else is said, the tension in the room starts to thicken. I look
from Tony, who is no longer sporting the huge smile from earlier, back to Allison, who is staring at the floor like someone being reprimanded. The shame that is pouring off both of them is so potent you can almost taste it in the air.

  “I need to talk to you. Alone.” I affirm, looking at the same face that stares back at me every time I glance in the mirror. It’s amazing how identical we are feature wise, yet there are only a handful of qualities we share when considering our personalities.

  “I was just leaving.” Tony wisely states, giving me one last wink before disappearing all together.

  “Is something wrong? Did mom and dad call just to upset you again? Are we going to finally hash out our problems?”

  Allison throws the questions at me one after the other, not bothering to let me respond until she walks to the fruit bowl sitting in the middle of the table. Biting into a Granny Smith apple, she finally shuts up long enough to let me reply.

  “Yes, something is wrong. No, mom and dad did not call to upset me. That’s not the reason they check in on me, Allison. They are my parents, and they want to protect me, despite what the judge was led to believe. Lastly, yes, we are going to hash out our problems. Starting with Tony.”

  “Tony is not worth being mad over, Ashley. That poor sap never wanted to marry me. It was the booze and your rejection that lead him to say I do.”

  “What are you talking about? He never mentioned anything to me about being intoxicated.”

  Kicking her booted feet up onto the table, and leaning back in the chair like she is something special, Allison looks at me and smiles.

  “Of course he didn’t. Irish is too busy trying to kiss your ass to make excuses for himself. He was completely hammered that night. I found him at the bar, and convinced him to marry me. Hell, I could have convinced him I was you if I had thought about it.”

  “Why are you being such a bitch?”

  I hate to admit it, but the way she is acting hurts my feelings more than I would like it to. How can she sit here and talk to me like this? Most siblings with her track record would be begging for my forgiveness.