“See you at six?” I ask when our gazes meet.
Alanah’s upset that she’s disappointed me. I can see it in her overly-expressive eyes and the tight way she’s pressed her lips together. Hope begins to bloom in my chest, although I tamp it down as hard as I can because I don’t think my ego could withstand another blow right now.
She nods. It’s a reluctant acquiescence, but I’ll take it.
I smile and get the hell outta Dodge before she changes her mind.
THIRTEEN
Brian
Alanah is sitting at the table painting her fingernails when I make my way into the kitchen in search of a drink.
I’m wrecked. Too many late nights doing Vic’s job for Shamrocks on top of my own during the day. It’s surprised to me to learn that banging heads together when people refuse to pay their weekly protection payment isn’t as much fun as I’d always assumed.
If anything, it’s downright tedious.
Sure, Vic has a legitimate reason for his prolonged absence—he is off licking his wounds from Bonnie’s abrupt departure, after all—but it’s wearing thin.
Three months is plenty of time to get over a bitch who doesn’t want you.
My brain tries to call me a hypocrite by ambushing me with images of Anita running away from me eighteen months ago, reminding that I’m still not over her. I push them away, locking them down deep in my psyche where they’re supposed to remain, and turn my attention to my little sister.
“Why are you so dressed up?”
Running a hand through my hair, I try not to blink while I wait for her answer because I can feel it in my gut that the visions of Anita are waiting to get me.
“I’m having a party.”
Well, colour me shocked and sell me as a comic book.
Little Lana is spreading her wings.
I don’t want to spook her, so I take my sweet time filling a glass with water, drinking it down in one go, before I refill it again empty it once more. It takes me a minute to get my excitement under control, despite my tiredness, and that’s all Alanah needs to take my silence the wrong way.
“I said, I’m having a party.”
Raising my bleary eyes to hers, I try to show her that I don’t disapprove by asking her about the party.
“Where? Here?”
“Yeah,” she mumbles.
“When?”
“Tonight.” The longer we speak, the more belligerent she becomes. It’d be cute if I wasn’t so bloody worn out.
“Okay.” I end our volley of one-word question and answers with a shrug.
She narrows her eyes at me, pinning me to the spot while she attacks her nails with quick swipes.
For some reason she’s pissed at me.
“What?” I ask. The fierce disapproval she’s directing at me is freaking me out. Why is she annoyed with me? All I’m trying to do is be supportive.
Grabbing my glass, I rinse it and turn it upside down on the dishrack to dry.
Alanah tilts her head to the side and rolls her eyes. “Gee, I don’t know. Maybe the sheer fact that you’re cool with me having a party is making me a little bit suspicious?”
Finally, she’s given me something I can work with. Stepping behind her, I plant my hands on her shoulders, and try to find the right words to convey what I want to say without setting her off.
“Lana, you’ve just finished school. Why wouldn’t I want you to celebrate that?” I squeeze her thin shoulders to punctuate my question. She answers with a shrug, and I choose to take that as a positive. “Of course, I am going to be here the entire time and I will be rounding up some brothers to play security. But, aside from that, this is your house and your party. Let your hair down and have fun.”
Kissing the top of her head, I bite the bullet and lay it all out for her. Our family’s no good at expressing their emotions, preferring to hide behind silences and half-smiles. Getting this deep with Alanah is a risk.
“I’m so proud of you. You’ve done good, kiddo.”
“Thank you,” she replies after a definitive pause. I feel the stiffness in her shoulders increase, then she pulls a classic Alanah and dresses the truth up as a joke. “Just remember, I can deal with your bossy ways—my friends might need some time to get used to you. Please be cool. I want to fit in for once.”
Biting back a laugh, I refrain from congratulating her on her predictability.
“I’m cool,” I reply in a voice that says the opposite. She looks at me and waits for the punch line. I don’t leave her hanging for long. As I leave the kitchen, I start rapping nonsense, mimicking the shitty boy bands she plays in her bedroom. I keep it up until I see her shoulders shaking, then retreat back into my bedroom.
We share this house with Paddy. When we first moved in almost two years ago, Vic lived with us. He moved out just before Bonnie had their son, Mik, and the dynamic hasn’t been the same since. As suspicious as I was of Vic’s interest in Alanah, nothing ever came to pass because life got in the way.
I’ll never know if I ruined my friendship with him over nothing. At the time it felt right. Nowadays, my paranoia over my sister takes second place to my real problems.
First up, I’ve been clean for three months in a club that is moving heavier into the illegal drug trade without the approval of the majority of the table.
Secondly, I don’t know how to get my heart to move on from a girl who was never truly mine.
If I’m honest with myself—something I’m trying to do more of as the time comes for Alanah to spread her wings and leave me on my own for the first time in my twenty-one years on this earth—the memory of Anita haunts me harder than any future showdown that’s brewing within the Black Shamrocks MC.
A big part of me wants to know if she’s going to be at the party tonight.
The tiny ember of need that catches fire within me at the sight of my empty snuff ring sitting on my dresser is proof that it’s better if I don’t know.
We had our moment.
It flared and died before it truly sparked.
Now I need to make my heart to accept what my head has always understood.
Happiness is not for me.
FOURTEEN
Anita
Arriving at Alanah’s house has me second guessing my plan. There’s too many people here. Half of them I don’t recognise and the other half I don’t like. Particularly the bunch of boys who graduated with me and Alanah today, who are currently staking out the front of the house with a keen eye on the drunk girls who are coming in and out of the front door.
My worries are compounded when I head inside and spot Brian straightaway. I was hoping he’d make himself scarce until I was able to fortify with the chemical courage that I stole from the Ugly Bastards clubhouse when I went home to change.
Brian sees me seconds after I see him. His green gaze is obscured in the dark room; however I know he’s looking me up and down because I’m doing the same thing to him. Clad in a tiny pleather skirt, a neon bralette top, sky high stacked sandals, with my hair teased and my make up expertly applied by the head whore for the Ugly Bastards, I know I look good.
At least, I pray to God that I do.
He’s a sight for sore eyes. His shoulders are wider. His hair is a little longer. His eyes are a little deader. I haven’t seen him since we kissed. He stopped picking Alanah up from school and he was never home when we walked back from the library. Then their mother had a major episode and Brian moved Alanah into this house with him and Vic and Paddy, and our walks from the library ceased as well.
I’m not supposed to know that Alanah doesn’t live with her parents. She’s never once mentioned it—dancing expertly around the subject any time I’ve broached it. My brother has kept me in the loop as part of my role in this long-term game he’s been playing on the Black Shamrocks.
I think he thought it might entice me back into the game.
It didn’t.
The change in Brian’s eyes sparks curiosity in me. I don’t lab
our under the illusion that our short encounter is the cause, but I can’t help but feel empathy for him. I’ve learned the hard way how harsh life can be and how damaging rolling with the punches can become to one’s innate optimism.
Spying Alanah across the room, I shake off the desire to approach Brian and make my way to her. I grab a cup of something from someone I pass and swallow down one of the pills I stole. The buzz better hit quick because this night is going to turn into a drag if I’m not careful.
When I get close to Alanah, I have to stop and shake my head at the way she’s behaving.
Miss Prim and Princess is not here to party.
Loosening Alanah up is my number one priority. If all else fails, I’m going to find a way to compromise her tonight.
She needs the stick pulled out of her arse before she loses all sight of the bigger picture.
Alanah Kelly has everything I’ve ever wanted—a big brother who loves her for her, a father who would kill to protect her, a mother who drove herself crazy trying to keep her family intact, and a club that accepts her with the last name she deserves.
Then, there’s me. Illegitimate. Unwanted. Unloved. I guarantee Brian has never threatened Alanah with homelessness because she refused to prostitute her integrity for him.
I’m determined to save her from herself. By the time I’m finished with her, she’ll know exactly how good she’s got it.
“Cool pad,” I announce when the pill I swallowed starts to kick in.
It’s a testament to how much she’s not enjoying this party when she grabs me and hugs me to her. She isn’t the most tactile person; her desperation to cling to someone she knows making her act out of character.
“Thank God you’re here. This has turned into Douchebags Anonymous.”
“Does someone have their judgey pants on tonight?” I ask, tilting my head to the side and peering at her with judgment of my own.
“Well, yeah,” she replies. Waving a hand around the living room, she points at one boy after another. “See, he’s a douchebag. He’s a douchebag. And, look over there, we have another douchebag.”
“You need to chill out.” I shake another pill out of the little bag in the pocket on my skirt and drop it into her hand. “Here… take one of these and you might actually have some fun.”
She holds it in the air. I shriek at her and force her fingers to close around it.
I’m smack bang in the middle of fucking amateur hour.
“What are you doing? I don’t want to get busted.”
Alanah turns white. “Did you take this?”
Nodding, I let the effects of the pill show on my face and reward her prudish shock with a lopsided grin. “Well, der. Did you think you were the only one with family connections?”
“What do you mean? The Shamrocks don’t sell drugs.”
Snorting, I roll my eyes. Amateur hour hasn’t even begun—I feel like I’m dealing with a kindergartner.
“Yeah, righto, and, I’m Brooke Shields.” Flipping my hair over my shoulder, I try my hardest not to laugh at her bewilderment. “Everyone’s doing it, even your brother and his Club. Lighten the fuck up. Have some fun, who knows you might like it.”
As if by divine intervention, Paddy O’Brien chooses that moment to do a drug deal with one of the boys who was lurking out the front directly across from me and Alanah. We observe the deal then watch the boys flock to their friend who gives them a pill each.
“Told ya,” I whisper in her ear.
Planting a kiss on the side of her face, I dance away. It’s time for some fun. Alanah follows me like a lost little sheep, until she sees me snag a bottle of water and realises that I’m coming back to her.
“Bottoms up, princess,” I urge with more nastiness in my voice than intended.
She hesitates, and I watch the interplay of emotions flitting over her face. I’m on the verge of giving her another nudge when she unscrews the cap, tosses the pill in her mouth, and swallows it down.
I feel like a mother hen seeing her baby chick take her first solo flight. Maybe there’s more hope for Alanah than I thought? I know how much popping pills has helped me over the past year and a half, and I truly believe it’s her path to lightening up and living her best life.
Then the regret crosses her face and I remind myself who I’m dealing with.
“Don’t be a Debbie,” I say with a dark look.
She gives me a blank expression that I don’t buy for a second, but I don’t call her out on it either.
Tugging her into the middle of the dance floor, I help her loosen up enough to dance. She’s awkward, however none of the boys who watch us give a shit. Alanah is naturally beautiful—all blonde hair and green eyes; long limbs and luscious curves. She could dance like a robot, then add the equally as awkward sprinkler move to her repertoire of dance moves, and they’d still eat her up with their eyes.
Alanah’s hands get clammy and some of the colour drains from her face. One look at her pupils tells me that she’s coming on.
“Just go with it. I think you’re coming on,” I whisper in her ear after I’ve pulled her close.
She blinks fast and tries to get away from me to hug herself. I peel her arms from her body and swing her around. The movement distracts her from the novel sensation of being high as a kite and free of doubts and insecurities.
It isn’t long before she’s taking the lead and encouraging me to dance faster with her.
The next hour is the best time I’ve spent with her. We dance. We laugh. We make fun of the boys who try to move in between us. Brian comes in and out of the room regularly, but he doesn’t approach us. He seems happy that his sister is happy, and that’s enough for me.
For now, anyway. I’m sure that being this close to him again will hurt when I sober up tomorrow.
The music dies down—some annoying person requested a ballad it seems—and the change in tempo is enough to drag Alanah back down to earth a bit.
“Oh, wow,” she says, suddenly. I follow her gaze and grin when I see where she’s looking. Paddy has entered the room. He’s a beautiful looking man. The epitome of the adage Tall, Dark, and Handsome. Unfortunately, he sets off my danger radar. There’s just something about him that isn’t right. He’s aloof, but in a calculating way. He’s egotistical. He’s conceited. He thinks he’s it and a bit, and everyone else in the world should be grateful for his presence.
I don’t like him; however I’ve always had a small suspicion that Alanah has a soft spot for him that rivals her crush on Vic.
Watching her watch him, proves my educated guess right.
He sees her observing him and gives her a blinding smile in return.
“He’s beautiful,” Alanah blurts out to no one in particular.
Turning her until her back is to him, I trap her in my embrace to stop her from approaching him while I decide if this is a good idea. I’ve always been in two minds about Alanah’s easy acceptance of Paddy and some of the crap I’ve heard he pulls.
Alanah makes the decision for me when she struggles to turn in my arms so she can look at him again.
“Fucking oath,” I agree, easily. I’m not lying. He’s a very good-looking man. “Big and strong with hands the size of dinner plates. Why don’t you see if he’ll show you if the rest of him matches.”
This time when she tries to reverse our positions, I let her go. She attempts to duck out of sight when she sees that Paddy is still looking at her, whispering as she goes to ground, “I can’t. If I give him an inch, he’ll try to take the whole shebang.”
Her words are slurred, although I get the gist of it. She sees the same things in him as I do. Solid in that knowledge, I decide that it’s time to see if Vic is here. Everything I’ve heard about him—including but not limited to the recent desertion of his wife—leads me to believe that he’s a good one.
I’ll be happy if Alanah finds herself with someone who treats her good and helps her make the most of all the shit she takes for granted.
<
br /> Right now, she’s not looking too good. I think a little lie down is in order for my friend. I can use her nap to hunt down Vic and get him in the right frame of mind so she can make her move.
“Have another,” I command, handing the downer I was saving for myself in the morning to her. “Quick he’s coming.”
She swallows it dry and groans. “Still feel sick.”
“Go lay down on your bed. You’ll be right once it hits.”
I want her out of here before Paddy gets any ideas.
Too quickly, he looms into view. My stress levels skyrocket and I’m forced to get a little rough with her.
“Wuddabout Paddy?” she complains when I shove her toward the edge of the room. Her eyes are on the verge of rolling back in her head.
“I’ll keep him interested until you come back,” I promise, pushing her quicker in the direction of what I assume is the bedrooms.
She wanders off, wobbling all over the place. I want to go after her and make sure she gets to her bed unscathed, except I know my time is better spent heading off Paddy. Now that I know she sees him for him, I need to stop him following her.
“Paddy O’Brien?” I ask him in a voice loud enough to be heard over the music. Putting my palm on his chest, I step in front of him, then step to the side when he tries to pass me without speaking. “Alanah has told me so much about you.”
That makes him stop. “Yeah? What’s she said?”
Moving my head so my hair shimmies around my shoulders, I lift up on my tip toes and tug his head down to my mouth by pulling the front of his shirt. Fortunately, he leans down to meet me since I’d need stilts otherwise.
“She said,” I try to purr the words, but they get lost in the noisy room. Clearing my throat, I press my chest against his arm and try again. “She said we should meet. Apparently, Alanah fancies herself a bit of a matchmaker and she’s been trying to set us up all year.”
“That right?” Paddy replies. His gaze flits past me, toward the direction Alanah went. He’s not all that interested in me. Probably because he can smell Alanah’s blood in the water and it’s calling to the shark within him.
Butch (Black Shamrocks MC: First Generation Book 3) Page 9