Page 20 of Break Me
“Do you have another inhaler?” Kristine asked quietly.
I shook my head. “Maybe I’ll make a few bucks tonight. I don’t get paid for a few more days.”
“I’m giving you the money,” she said as she squeezed my hand. “I had another drop in my bank account last night.”
“No!” Instantly, I felt like a shitty person. “Maybe if I don’t make anything tonight. Okay?”
Kristine nodded, but I could tell she was hurt. “Okay.”
A shot of electricity roared through me and that was the moment I remembered I wasn’t alone. Looking over my shoulder, I bristled all over again seeing he’d walked further into my house. I wanted to be furious with him, but his look of genuine concern caught my eye.
“I’ve got her,” my sister said and took Emily into her arms.
After rising, I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans as I walked toward him.
“What’s wrong with your daughter?”
The bitchy me would snark something terrible at him, but I didn’t have it in me. “She has severe asthma. The doctors are hoping she’ll grow out of it, but it seems to be getting worse. Anything can set her off including excitement.”
“The inhaler helps?” Why was his voice so soothing?
“Yes. As you could see, almost instantly.”
“But it’s expensive. Don’t you have insurance through the fire department?”
Now the bitchy side was bristling again. The questions felt far too intrusive. “Yes. Unfortunately, I have a very high deductible that I haven’t met yet. I don’t mean to be rude, Mr. Dmitriyev, but my daughter’s health is none of your concern.”
“I’m sorry. I truly am.”
I honestly wasn’t certain he was sorry, but when he glanced in Emily’s direction again, I couldn’t take his presence any longer, no matter how intoxicating his aftershave or how many butterflies were swarming my stomach.
He remained quiet so I filled the void. “As you can see, Mr. Dmitriyev, I have my hands full with two jobs and a daughter with issues who I’m raising by myself. That’s most likely too much baggage for a man like you.”
Why was it that a tiny part of me wanted him to continue pushing?
But he didn’t, simply nodding his head and leaving.
With that, I closed the door. And almost instantly hated myself for doing so.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I hissed under my breath. I stopped wiping the counter and did nothing more than glare at him.
“What’s wrong, luv?” my brother-in-law Liam asked as he popped out from his office behind the bar.
“Nothing.” I immediately lowered my gaze, now furiously wiping the bar as I cursed silently under my breath. What did Alexsey Dmitriyev think he was going to accomplish by continuing to annoy the hell out of me?
He likes you. What’s wrong with that?
My inner voice was beginning to sound more and more like my sister. I stole another quick glance, noticing two things. One was how every person in the mostly burly male-filled bar had immediately tensed when the huge Russian had walked in, every one of the Irishmen keeping their anger-filled eyes on him. And two, how utterly, completely unaffected Alexsey was by the hate being tossed his way.
I might not have Irish blood in me, but I’d been married to one for long enough and had worked at O’Leary’s Irish Pub for long enough to comprehend there was extremely bad blood between the Irish and the Russians. From what Liam had told me, the discord went back centuries, lingering in today’s world even if the two groups weren’t officially at war.
Had I always had a nagging feeling that the O’Leary family were somehow involved in criminal activities? Yes, but Sean had done everything he could to distance himself, which had caused some bad blood between him and the rest of his family. Which was why I’d been shocked when Liam had encouraged me to accept a position at the bar for extra cash.
While Alexsey could be considered an arrogant prick, he wasn’t stupid. As a man of power and wealth, he knew walking into an Irish bar could spell being beaten to a pulp. Yet here he was, finally catching sight of me and heading in my direction.
“Goddamn Russian asshole,” Liam snarled. When he was angry, his accent was even more pronounced. Just like Alexsey. Was it possible there was way too much testosterone in the room?
“Why do you say that?” I was curious as to the reason for Liam’s hatred, other than generational loathing.
