Page 35 of Exile and Embrace

They get closer to Cillian’s table, avoiding the looks of the men around him.

Although, none of his men seem interested in anything other than the women in their laps.

Even at the safe distance I keep, their bloodshot eyes are visible. Though I knew they would be drinking, I didn’t think that they would be too drunk to protect their leader.

As one man stands and stumbles, the men in black surge forward.

Women scream and run away from the table as I push through the crowd.

The men wearing black slit the throats of two of Cillian’s guards.

I leap over the frosted glass railing that separates the VIP lounge from the rest of the club.

One of the men holds a knife to Cillian’s throat while other men pull guns.

I blend in with the people running away from the scene as I make my way to the shadowy areas of the club.

Though the men I hired know what is about to happen, none of them flinch. They hold their positions as planned while I sneak up behind the man with a knife to Cillian’s neck.

The man shouts as I grab him by the hair and the wrist, snapping the bones.

The knife drops to the ground.

Shouts continue as I haul the man away by his hair and slam his face into one of the glass tables.

Blood pours from the man’s face as I drop him and lunge for another.

Guns lower as I knock one man unconscious.

Blood gushes from a cut on my hand as I slam my fist into the final man’s face.

The man drops to the ground.

Cillian’s guards grab the three men, dragging them into one of the back rooms.

Cillian stands from the leather couch and nods to me. “Thank you for that. I need to have a long discussion with my men.”

Cillian cracks his knuckles, making it clear that it is going to be more than a discussion.

I wrap the hem of my shirt around my bloody knuckles. “Saw them when I came in. They’ve been hovering around the edges of the club.”

“What’s your name? Where did you learn to fight like that?” Cillian’s thick eyebrows pull together as he crosses his arms over his chest. “You didn’t flinch when it came to stepping between me and those men.”

“Finn. Took mixed martial arts for years. Thought about making it my career at one point. Then the marines seemed like a better option.”

Though I did study mixed martial arts for years, the rest of the story is a lie. Part of the last three days has been trying to come up with a believable cover story.

The marines is as close as I’m going to get to believable.

Interest shines in his eyes as he looks me up and down. “And now what are you doing with your life?”

“Accounting. Me and my fiancée moved to Portland recently. I was looking for a change of pace, and I’ve always been pretty good with numbers.”

Cillian gestures to the couch beside him. “Sit. Talk with me for a few moments.”

Staff weaves around us, not saying a word as they clean up the broken glass and spilled drinks. None of them acknowledge the blood as they put the VIP lounge back together.

It’s the kind of silence that the mob demands when they own a club.

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