Page 61 of Skin Deep

Chapter21

Harrison

It was only a matter of time before my brothers found out about the arrangement between our sister and Cash Kelly, and before she found out the shit starting to go down with the Craigs. Cash had a lot of wars on his plate, giving new meaning to Hell’s Kitchen, and he wanted to take his time getting into one with the Craigs. It had been less than a month, and they were already putting their hands on my brothers. Lachlan was already falling behind on payments.

Instead of outright attacking the Craigs, Cash funded the pub of Lachlan’s dream. The piece of shit place he wanted to begin with. Ginger’s. Together, Lach and Cash worked on redoing it. Lach got whatever he wanted. Cash signed the checks. Once it was done, Lachlan and my brothers pulled out of Oran and Dermot’s pub, citing family differences as a reason to part ways. But the money Lachlan owed was still owed. And Lachlan said he could tell it had become personal with Oran and Craig. Even before Lachlan stepped away.

Oran Craig hated Cash Kelly.

Until the situation with the Craigs could be handled, Kelly had agreed to only take small portions out of the pub’s earnings. The deal would be reworked after business was handled. On the side, Cash also made my brothers work for him. That meant anything from criminal dealings—like hitting up a truck with drugs in it—to fetching his coffee.

None of us wanted to have that talk with Kee yet, though, and she didn’t want to have one with my brothers about her marriage. I wondered how it was all going to go down when it happened. What were they going to do when they found out? What was she going to do? It was all so fucked up.

Nothing felt as fucked up as the situation in my bed, though. It was still empty. I hadn’t heard a word from Georgina Dolce since she left me. All I had was letters in my wallet and the last image of her falling into Macchiavello’s arms to remind me that the time we spent together had been real. I wasn’t dreaming or imagining it.

It had been months since the last time I touched her. New York had turned cold, but I could have sworn I felt her warmth on the palm of my hand still.

I’d tried to call her twice in the middle of the night. I’d needed a reason. An answer. I’d needed to hear her voice. But she never picked up or called me back. And after the scene outside of those gates in Modica, her message was clear. She didn’t want to see me. Even that wouldn’t have stopped me from claiming what was mine. It was who was comforting her that did.

My jaw tensed, and my hand squeezed the bottle. If I thought about it too long, Kelly might have another war on his hands because of another one of his wife’s brothers. Me.

Macchiavello was on my mental hit list—fucking shame I didn’t keep the real ones anymore.

Yeah, the world I somehow found myself in stopped me from going after her, too.

Tension was high.

Cash Kelly seemed to be fighting hundreds of small fires, the Craigs only one of them. They were all going to blow up one day. After his comment about someone close to him betraying him, I was more paranoid than usual. For my sister. And for him. I knew my sister loved the marauding bastard, and there was nothing she could do about it. He might have been tough as nails, but he loved her, too. That was why he kept her hidden for the most part. He didn’t want her getting caught up in a bullet meant for him. She’d been spending time with me and in safe houses around the city.

“Another?”

I looked up to find the waitress at Rhinestone Cowboy Saloon, a country-themed bar and restaurant, looking down at me. The lights behind her glittered, and a couple sang on the stage. It was karaoke night. It was one of Lachlan’s favorite places to go when he had the time. It was his birthday, though, and Declan had arranged it. He also invited Cash Kelly. I wasn’t sure whether he would show up or not—it depended on if he got shot or maimed.

I nodded to the waitress. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You got it.” She winked at me.

Even though we were supposed to be celebrating, the mood at the table felt dark. None of us was talking much. Lachlan kept downing drinks. So was I. Declan kept himself busy by checking out all the women. Owen was on his phone.

“That cute waitress is into you,” Declan said.

We all looked at him.

He nodded at me. “You,” he said. “I meant you. She’s been back at least fifty times.”

“Not interested,” I said. Then I nodded my thanks to her when she set another cold one in front of me.

“Shit,” Declan said, watching her go. The girls wore cut-off shorts and boots. “When you go, you go all in. You can’t see anyone else.”

Lachlan grinned as he took a pull of his beer. Owen narrowed his eyes on his phone. Then he showed Declan the screen.

“Yeah, okay,” Declan said, raising his hands. “I’ll give you this one.”

I took the phone from Owen. Seeing Georgina Dolce’s face hit me with a force harder than I ever expected. It was the entire reason why I refused to look at the personal pictures on my phone. The article went on to explain why she’d pulled out of the Bond film—due to a devastating personal loss.

“You didn’t know?” Owen said.

“Know what?” I said.

“Her grandfather was that famous poet and novelist. In the 70s, he won the Nobel Prize in Literature. He died about a week after you got back to New York.”

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