Page 286 of 7+Us Makes Nine

God knows I got hurt bad before. Don’t want that to happen again.

Something told me that Jack was a lot different than Conall, though. A different sort.

One of the good guys.

My feelings were confusing me. Fear, desire and anticipation swam around in my stomach. I was glad to be visiting Ann tomorrow, an old friend from school who I’d not seen for a few months. I’d promised to go and see her, and we’d finally organized something after a couple of weeks of both being busy as hell.

It would be nice to talk to her, get some support. Try and sort out these feelings aloud. She had a level head. I think I knew what her advice would be already.

Stop worrying, Abs. Go for it. You only live once, and he could be the one. Just be careful, alright?

I smiled, sighing as I headed upstairs for a long bath before bed.

***

The rest of the weekend had passed all too slowly, my mind filled with thoughts of Jack. I had been distracted during my time visiting Ann, and she had noticed almost immediately. We’d gossiped away like we were young girls again, and she’d asked me countless questions about Jack, which had made me realise I barely knew the guy.

I was looking forward to getting to know him better on Monday and couldn’t wait for the dinner I hoped he’d still be taking me for on Thursday. I shuddered with girlish delight, anticipation, and nervousness when

ever I thought about it. Ann had wished me luck before I’d left after staying over Saturday night.

I’d returned home early afternoon, trying to distract myself from thoughts of Jack. If I didn’t it would likely be the longest Sunday I’d ever had to struggle through. But I felt good, confident. The slight attention had made me realize I was now a woman, full figured and attractive. I found myself walking with a confident stride, noticing the attention from men I had been ignorant to before.

Not one of them anywhere near as hot as Jack. Damn, I’m a lucky girl. Can’t wait to get to know him better, see him out of that trench coat…

I hoped I wasn’t wrong about him. Fortunately, my woman’s intuition was rarely wrong.

That very reason is why when I heard an ominous knock at the front door I felt the ice-cold grip of fear take over my body. Three knocks. Slow, threatening.

Fuck, Conall. What now? Come round to hit a woman again? Why can’t you just leave me alone?

I sighed as I walked reluctantly to the door. My car was out front on the drive. He knew I was here. If I didn’t answer the door I’d only piss him off more. He was probably only here because he was pissed, high, drunk or desperate. Realistically, he could be any combination of the four.

I opened the door slowly, praying that the visit would be short. I was shocked when I was met by three figures in front of me. Conall in the middle, standing a head taller than the two meatheads with him.

One was black, long dreadlocks hanging down, framing his mean looking face. Hooded, bloodshot eyes looked back at me. The other guy was white, smaller than the other two but broad, fat and muscle heavy on his wide frame. Gold teeth flashed at me through his sarcastic grin as he looked me up and down hungrily.

“Hey, babe. Thought me and my friends would pay you a visit. We need to have a chat, you and me.” He grimaced at me. Amazingly, he appeared sober. Which meant he was probably hung over.

“Listen, Conall. I’ve done what you wanted. Haven’t said a word to anyone, promise. I just want to get on with my life Conall. I wasn’t lying to you.” I pleaded slightly, my heart sinking as his face darkened at my words.

“Well, we’ll see about that. Let's have a chat then, shall we?” He pushed me hard in my stomach as he forced his way into my house. His two goons followed. The guy with gold teeth pushed past me rudely, shoulder barging me aside. The guy with dreadlocks looked at me sheepishly, hanging his head as he followed the other two.

They walked into the kitchen, Conall and the other white guy taking two chairs and leaning back like they owned the place. The guy with dreads perched himself on the side, arms crossed.

Conall rudely put his dirty boots on my dining table, sighing as he shook his head at me.

“Now I’m gonna ask you something. You better tell me the fucking truth, or you’ll be in trouble.” He looked at his two henchmen in turn, nodding at them.

“One of my guys was in your bar the other day, minding his own business. Having a few beers.” Conall gestured thoughtfully with his hand, feigning a faraway expression.

“This friend of mine told me you been chatting to cops. One of them was a detective. Did you tell them anything about me? Did you say a fucking word to them about me? Us?” He leaned forward aggressively.

“No, Conall. We were just chatting. I told you I wouldn’t say anything, and I mean it.” I crossed my arms, waiting for the accusation that was bound to follow. Conall had already made his mind up what he was going to do, what he was going to say. All I could do was protest my innocence.

I continued anyway. “Only one of the guys was a cop. And that was my old friend Lucas, my friend’s cousin. We talk fairly often, and never about you. I swear.”

Conall was shaking his head. “Thing is, the other guy you spoke to was a detective. The one that took down my fucking uncles. Forced me into hiding.”

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