Page 88 of Dublin Brute

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Nora

Wednesday comes around before I know it and I’m back at Legend, ‘bustin my gams’ as my gran would say. That’s one thing about waiting tables in a busy nightclub—it’s like going to the gym every night. Between the tray lifting, the thirty-thousand steps I average a night, and the lack of time to snack and couch potato, I’ve dropped six pounds and feel stronger than ever.

Physically, at least.

I glance over to the stage area, scanning for Kate. She’s still not talking to me and I’m worried she might never forgive me. There’s a real chance that by the time I get the conflict between my father and Brendan sorted, Kate will be done with me, and I won’t have a bestie to move out with.

I push that thought down and weave through the throngs of bodies on the dance floor. Laughter and shouts mix with the throbbing pulse of the music.

Just another night at Legend.

“Here you are.” I prop my tray on the palm of one hand as I deliver a round of drinks to a highboy near the door between club floors. The group of wasted college boys let off a round of whoops and drumroll on the table as I set down their drinks.

“Cheers, love!” one guy calls out, extending his credit card. “This round is on me, lads.”

I take the card and keep moving. It’s busy for mid-week. The orders keep coming in a never-ending flow. Not that I’m complaining—I’m not—the heightened pace keeps me moving and not dwelling on the overlapping conflicts my life has become.

It’s all become such a muddled mess.

Riding the outer edge of the heaving dance floor, I scan the tables to see if anyone needs anything. Three guys catch my eye to the right of the band stage—well-dressed, slick suits that scream money. They are standing against the dance floor bar rail, studying the crowd.

But what’s weird is that they don’t look like they’re having fun.

My stomach tightens as Brendan’s warning echoes in my mind. Are these McGuire traffickers skulking around, scoping out women to snatch into their sex trade operation?

I look away and keep going, my mind racing. I need to call him, but I’ve already taken my break, and the house rules are that all phones stay in our lockers while we’re on shift.

There’s no question, though—I need to tell Brendan.

Thankfully, Alexis and Jay are both good bosses. They monitor things, but they don’t hover. They trust the staff enough to do their jobs. So after I ring through the frat boy’s credit card, I zip into the back and grab my phone out of my locker unseen.

With it tucked into the waistband of my skirt, I head back out.

After returning the credit card to the college boy with the smile, I approach the stage area again and duck behind an industrial pillar. Positioned in the shadows, I retrieve my phone from its hiding spot and turn off the flash. Yes, it’s dark, but if I can time the snapshots with the sweeping light show, maybe it won’t betoodark.

My heart is racing as I edge around the pillar, looking as nonchalant as I can manage.Oh, no.Kate’s chatting with them, laughter spilling between them like they’re old friends. Is she flirting with them or are they charming her?

Anxiety tingles up my spine as I take my photos.

Get away from them, Kate. Come on. You’ve got great instincts.

But she’s too engrossed in whatever they’re saying to tune in to my mental urging. I need to get these images to Brendan before something bad happens.

Hurrying back to the locker room, I type out a quick text and attach the images I’ve taken.

Could this be them?

I’m standing there, hoping to see three blinking dots, but nothing comes. There’s a checkmark to confirm the message was delivered, but nothing more.

Damn.I consider calling my father, but quickly decide against it. He’ll either think I’m paranoid, use my fear as proof that I can’t work here, or use it against Brendan somehow.

No. Brendan and his brothers are the ones I need.

“Hey, Nora!” Jay shouts as he passes the locker area. “The main bar is running low on glasses! Grab a stack on your way back to the front.”

“On it!” I toss my phone back into my locker, lock things up, and shake off the knot of dread tightening in my gut.

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