Page 80 of Dublin Brute

I used to think so. Except now, I want to be more than a mafia boss. I want to be a man that a woman like Nora can be proud to stand beside.

Burlesque Bartender is back in a flash, and he’s brought a scruffy guy wearing jeans and a silk vest over his T-shirt. “What can I do for you, gentlemen?”

As Bryan explains about the predators stealing women in our territory, I scan the club, searching for anyone who might meet the description of the perpetrators. There are a lot of watering holes in the city and there is no way we can cover them all, but Tag wants us to raise the alarm and make it known that we’re aware of what’s happening.

If these twats have a lick of self-preservation, they’ll think twice about being the front men for Gravely’s revenge plan.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to read Finn’s text.

“Anything yet?”

“Nope. Just spreading the word.”

“Where have you been?”

“Dublin Dance, Clover Cavern, Living Room, Panti Bar, and Grand Social. Haven’t done this much bar hopping in a fucking decade.”

Couples come and go past the bar, but what I’m looking for are young girls in twos and threes with no male escort out for a night of fun. They will be the prime targets—the ones coming in without dates.

Tag says he and Aiden are calling it a night. Sean and Keefer, too.

Does that mean we’re off the clock?

Seems so.

Good deal. See you back at home.

When Bryan is finished laying it out to the manager, I stand and finish my drink in two long swallows. “If you see anything that concerns you, step in and if you don’t have the balls to step in, then call us and we’ll send the Devils over to take care of things for you. But this ends. Women will not be prey in our fucking city. Agreed?”

The scruffy guy in the fancy pants vest nods vigorously. “Yes, sir. Agreed.”

Nora

I stall out in the hallway outside the kitchen, the teasing aroma of coffee urging me forward. Today is a big day, and I don’t know if I want to stand tall and spill it to my father or wait until after Kate and I sign the lease on our new flat this afternoon.

I know how he’ll react.

I don’t have the energy for that argument right now.

I shift my weight from one foot to the other, deciding to back away. I turn, about to make a full retreat, when my father’s voice cuts through the quiet.

“Why are you lurking, Nora?”

Andthisis why I’ll never be a spy.Drawing a deep breath, I step into the kitchen and force a casual smile. “Just thinking.”

He narrows his gaze. “About what?”

Avoiding that conversation, I reach to the sink to grab my mug and pour myself a cup of coffee. After stirring in a dose of hazelnut creamer, I grab a bagel and slot it into the toaster.

“How are things with the task force?” I ask, steering the conversation away from my life plans. “What did you do about Laura sleeping with Niall McGuire?”

He leans back in his seat and crosses his arms tight over his chest. “That’s none of your concern. You shouldn’t even know about it.”

I turn my back to him when my bagel pops, and take my time with the buttering. “I saw the pictures. It wasn’t hard to figure out she crossed a line.”

“And how I handle that is my business, not yours.”

His clipped reply and curt tone are nothing new. What’s new is that it bothers me. For the past decade I merely internalized it as me upsetting him or overstepping. Now I see it isn’t my issue, it’s his.

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