Page 29 of Twisted Secrets
Another point to Sloan. He sighed and finished putting the sandwiches together. “It’s just a date, squirt.”
It didn’t matter if no one had faith in him and his ability to be a responsible goddamn adult. He liked Olivia. She obviously felt that same connection. The rest would fall into place as they went. It was pointless to worry too much about it when there was so much unsaid between them. She knew what family he was a part of, and he got the feeling that she knew exactly what that meant, but theyhadn’t gotten into the dirty details. And she had a past that she’d obviously moved to escape.
Nothing was simple in life.
He’d known that since he was a kid, but the last year had really solidified that truth. In a perfect world they would have avoided war in Boston without any personal casualties—and if someone went out, it sure as hell wouldn’t have been Devlin. And the fact that his older sister was with a man she was totally and completely in love with would have been agoodthing, rather than something that got her banished from their family.
But that wasn’t the world he lived in. He could only do what it took to make the best of things in this reality. For Cillian, that meant spending more time with Olivia and seeing if this thing with her would be…Well, hell, he wasn’t sure.Something.
He pushed Sloan’s plate over to her. “It’ll all work out. Just you wait and see.”
Chapter Nine
Two days passed, and then three. By the time the fifth day slipped by without seeing or hearing from Cillian, Olivia had convinced herself that their whole night together was a fever dream brought on by his head injury and her exhaustion. It didn’t help her feel less hurt by his rejection—because, really, what else could she call him avoiding Jameson’s as well as her?—but it was better than nothing.
And what if he wasn’t avoiding her? Head wounds were tricky beasts, even under the best of circumstances. He’d seemed okay when she’d left the hotel that morning, but what if something happened in the meantime? She could have left him to die, and the only way she’d know about it was hearing a news report—which was why she’d been spending a truly unhealthy amount of time searching the local news outlets for anything about deaths with corresponding head injuries. It wasn’t a perfect way to go about things, and knowing that only made herstress out worse.
“Why the long face, pretty girl?”
She grimaced and passed a beer to the guy across the bar. “Gas.”
He jerked back, nearly knocking over the guy next to him. “Jesus. Sorry I asked.”
It was too easy. Like shooting fish in a barrel.That, at least, she found some pleasure in. The men who came through this place were nothing to her, and for whatever reason, her pissy attitude had made her tips nearly double this week. It would almost be enough to change her mood if she didn’t think about how worried she was about Cillian. It didn’t help that Benji kept sending her worried looks.
She grabbed a rag to wipe down a spill. “I’m fine.”
“I didn’t say a word.” He measured three different liquors into a shaker.
“You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face.” She wasn’t sure why she was pressing this, let alone with her boss, but the need to talk tosomeoneabout what had gone down was nearly overwhelming. It didn’t make sense. She wasn’t a sharer. She’d been blown off before, and hadn’t lost a second of sleep over it. But then she met that troublemaker O’Malley, and now she was losing her damn mind.
Benji poured two martinis and passed them over to a pair of women chatting about their week at work. Then he turned to face her. “Do you want to talk about it?”
If she didn’t, she might just explode.I am so pathetic. “The other night when I was taking out the trash and closing up, I caught two assholes beating the crap out of Cillian O’Malley.”
His mouth tightened. “You need to stay out of those kinds of conflicts. I don’t want you getting hurt.” He held up a hand at an impatiently waiting customerwithout looking over. “You’re tough, Olivia, but this is a whole different ball game from what you’re used to.”
That was the problem. It wasn’t. She’d grown up around the casual violence and threats that came from underground crime, even if she’d been on the outskirts for the most part. It wasn’t seeing those two guys beating Cillian up that spooked her so bad.
It was that she’d walked away from that night with all her convictions about the man questioned.
“It was fine. I scared them off with your trusty shotgun.”
“This time.” He took the order from the impatient guy and grabbed two Buds from the fridge below the bar. After the guy paid, Benji turned back to her. “Next time you might not be so lucky. You know what they say about heat waves—everyone is on edge and ready to fight. That goes double for anyone under the umbrella of O’Malley, Sheridan, or Halloran.”
How had this turned into him telling her to back off? She propped her hands on her hips. “I can take care of myself.”
“These aren’t common street thugs—not in this part of town, and not giving a beating to an O’Malley. Whoever it was won’t forget that you intervened, and some of the families around these parts can have a long memory. If you’re not careful, you might turn down a street one night and find yourself in more trouble than you can handle.”
The sad thing was that if that ever happened, it wouldn’t be a Boston family threatening her. It would be the Romanovs. She couldn’t say that to Benji without explaining her past, though, and she wasn’t willing to go there. Not tonight. Probably not ever. “I’ve got it covered. I promise. That wasn’t even what was bothering me in the first place.”
He frowned. “Thenwhat’s the problem?”
“I patched Cillian up and made sure he was okay and…” God, why was she even talking about this? She wasn’t some high school girl with a crush. She’d already seen how that kind of thing worked out—with her in over her head and knocked up by a man who would never love her like she desperately needed. Olivia took a deep breath. “Never mind. It’s not even worth talking about.”
“Boy got under your skin, didn’t he?”
Of course Benji saw through her. One didn’t end up as a bartender as long as he’d been andnotknow how to read people. “Pretty much. It doesn’t make any sense. He’s so…” Gorgeous and broken and kissable.
