Page 5 of Cosmo

Back when it was the corner pub he ran, where the older men gathered to complain about their wives over room temperature mugs of Guinness and shots of Jameson, and they brought in just enough to survive. Still, he’d liked it that way and fought his son over every change.

Though he hated his son being gay, he adored Eazy and the kids so much, he rarely mentioned it anymore. It was progress, at least.

“I’m headed down to the pub, Dad. Come down later for a pint and a shot.”

“Like I need to be invited to my own bar?”

Oh, and he still thought he owned the place. Murphy never corrected him, mostly because it was no use. It was in the family, therefore, being the patriarch, he still owned it.

Murphy headed downstairs via the back staircase and turned on the lights and started set up for the day. The place shined from the cleaning it received every morning from a darling local lady and her three teenage kids.

They were undocumented, and he’d never met someone that worked harder and loved the job so much. He paid them well, and from that, they’d rented a better apartment. Murphy had even hooked them up with fake IDs that were so good they’d passed the noses of the local cops.

Once he was sitting on a stool behind the bar, he got started on the previous night’s receipts, but couldn’t stop thinking about the new guy. What could have been so bad to turn him off of family the way it had? Why had he run from every foster home? He knew some were shit, but some of them were truly good folks.

The questions piled up on him. The worry began, but he knew he’d likely take the kid on. Society had shunned the men thatwere thrown into prisons or hurt in other ways. He’d seen the humanity in those men. How they just needed something to touch their hearts a little. How someone like him could become a father figure to men that might not have had that before in their lives.

Thinking of those eyes, beyond being beautiful, there was also a dark pain in them that had saturated every bit of his life. Murphy wanted to help him. The only question was, did Liam MacManus want to be helped?

Chapter Two

Being used to theprison system, Murphy had taken nothing with him that could set off any alarms. After putting his keys and phone into the plastic basket, he walked through the metal detector and let the guard wand over him.

His keys were kept in the basket so there was no chance of passing them onto the convict, and he pocketed his phone again. A familiar face escorted him to the interview room.

“Murphy, this guy, I don’t know if he’s right for you,” the big guard, Manny Torres, told him. “He’s awful sedate.”

“If he’s not right for us, I have friends that could take him on and put him to work.”

“Up to you. Using up all your favors on someone that’s not gonna make you money, is that smart?”

“I like people, Manny. Much more than money, though if I can have both…that’s where I shine.”

“It sure is. Here you go,” he said once they got to the room meant for a lawyer and their clients. No cameras or mics were allowed in the room, so it was the perfect place to discuss things with possible employees.

The room was painted in a dull, lifeless green and there were no cameras or glass. Just a square box and a table with two metal chairs.

When the door opened again a few minutes later, the air in the room changed, and a red flash of fury could be felt for a second before Murphy turned and took his first in-person look at Liam MacManus.

“Here you go, Murph,” Roger Conrad said as he cuffed Liam to the O-ring in the table. “If you need us, knock.”

“Thanks, Roger.”

Those heavily lidded eyes were staring right at him as Murphy faced him fully.

“Hello, Liam.”

“Who are you? You’re not my lawyer.”

“No, I’m not. My name is Connor Murphy, though everyone just calls me Murphy.”

With a slight shrug, he grunted, “So?”

They were all right. He would not be easy, but if he was, Murphy likely wouldn’t want him. “I have a friend that works for the prison system. He lets me know about guys like you, who maybe got a tough break in life and could use a little help.”

“I didn’t ask for help, don’t need help, and don’t want it. Is that it? Can I call them to take me back?”

Murphy saw he wouldn’t bend to flattery or sweetness, so Murphy put those aside and got a little stern. “No, you can’t. You’re gonna sit here for a minute and let me talk to you.”

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