Page 7 of Mob Knight

“You’ve put it all together, haven’t you?”

I’m pretty sure I have.

“And you’ve decided I’m just as bad as Pablo, right?”

He hesitates for a moment, and I wonder how he intends to deny that statement.

“We’re similar, but not the same.”

“Isn’t that just semantics?”

“Not in my world.”

There’s an edge to his voice that tells me I risk genuinely insulting him if I keep pushing, and that actually bothers me. I don’t feel like he deserves me being rude to him when he was so concerned about me earlier. But it doesn’t mean I have to agree with him or approve of what he does.

If I know the man he is, then I should be just as petrified of him as I am Pablo. But even though I just watched them together, he comes across very different. I actually feel safe with him. It’s why I didn’t run when he told me to stay behind him. I could’ve taken my chances and ducked down these steps again, but I didn’t. I don’t know if it was how insistent he remained about me getting my elbow checked out or that he told me to hide behind him. But he is more reassuring than he should be.

I’m a fool to believe he’s anything other than the monster I know Pablo is. He remains silent while I consider what’s happened over the past forty-five minutes. When he pushes away from the fence, he issues another command.

“Get your arm checked,cailín. I’ll know if you don’t.”

Before I can respond, he’s stepping away. I watch him cross the street, his long strides at least twice as wide as mine. I watch him yank open the door to the bodega and stand just within it. His shoulders aren’t quite broad enough to span the width, but they’re pretty damn close. I always thought Pablo was intimidatingly large, but I can see Cormac is even bigger than him, which just reconfirms it’s a false sense of security to trust I’m safe with Cormac.

I can’t hear the conversation, but I remain hidden, even though I should seize this opportunity to get to my car. However, I rationalize to myself that somebody could spy me through thewindow and recognize me, then tell Pablo I’m here. Then again, I don’t believe he would do anything while Cormac’s here.

However, he’d know Cormac shielded me, and I don’t want to be the reason those two Titans clash. It takes another ten minutes—I know because I keep glancing at my watch—before Cormac steps out of the doorway. I’ve kept my head down, so I don’t know everything that happened. I only peeked a few times, and I didn’t see him shift from where he was. I know it was so he could make a hasty getaway if need be.

He steps back and lets Pablo walk past. I can’t see all of Pablo’s expression because he has sunglasses on, but it looks pretty grim from here. Then again, if a guy can have a resting bitch face, it would be Pablo Diaz.

I keep my head just high enough to watch what’s happening across the street as Pablo stalks to his SUV. I see Cormac wave to him as Pablo climbs in. It’s patronizing as fuck. Once the Colombians drive away, Cormac’s attention rivets back to me.

I’m certain he doesn’t see me because I ducked my head down the moment Pablo got in the vehicle. But Cormac is definitely staring at me. I can feel it even if I can’t see him now. I wonder what’s going through his mind because I’m positive I’m about to hear it. It only takes a moment longer before he appears at the top of the steps. I see he’s fighting the urge to put his hands on his hips, instead of fisting and unfisting his fingers.

“I made sure you had a chance to leave. Why are you still here?”

“Because somebody might have seen me through the window and recognized me.”

He stares at me for a moment before he nods. “They’re gone now. Ronaldo and Jesus slipped out the back the moment they saw Pablo arrive. They were no more interested in talking to him than you are. Things smoothed over pretty quickly.”

Smoothed over? Is that what they call not shooting each other?

I have a lot to learn about how New York syndicates work.

I shouldn’t think that.

It’s not like I’m curious about Cormac O’Rourke at all. That would be foolish and ridiculous. But he’s the sexiest man I’ve ever seen with the sun on his strawberry blond hair. It appears to glow like a halo. But he is the furthest thing from an angel you can get. Then again, he became my self-appointed guardian after I did the same thing for him. I’d hardly call myself angelic either.

I take the steps up to the sidewalk where he once more lifts my elbow with such care I barely feel his fingers on my arm. But I still can’t help but wince. His expression hardens in an instant.

“I see the bruising, and you’re still in pain. You’re seeing a doctor.”

“I’m telling you I just need some ice and to rest it. I’ll be fine, Cormac. I promise you. It’s all right.”

“Are you a doctor and a social worker?”

His arrogance could annoy me if I didn’t believe it was out of genuine concern.

“I’ve had this before. I know this feeling.”

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