Fearless #4

Fearless #4

He's rich, egotistical and a womanizer. She's angry dark and sarcastic. What could possibly go wrong?

Darragh

My official punishment for messing up is working in one of my brother’s hotels. The unofficial one? I’m stuck with Ciara. Angry, dark and sarcastic, she fills in my days.

Sick of being penniless, robbing a bank seems a no-brainer. That was until I got caught and I’m the scapegoat once again. Normally, choosing between my life and my friends would have been easy. Simple maths. That was until Ciara. She’s making me regret a lot of my past and question most of my decisions.

The closer we grow she’s all I can think about. She swears she will never sleep with me, but I love a challenge. I will have her no matter what the cost.

Ciara

The streets of Dublin were all I’ve ever known. When Liam O’Reagan offers me a job, working in one of his hotels, things start to look up for me. That is until Darragh O’Reagan is dropped into my life and we have to work together. He’s everything I can’t stand: rich, egotistical and a womanizer. The closer we get the more of him I see, and I soon realize he’s worth saving. But at what cost?

With the O’Reagan’s the price tag always seems too high.

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“I didn’t mean it.” My hands sink further into her bloody hair. “I tried to stop it.”

Connor stands over me, his chest rising and falling quickly. He moves swiftly toward me. We’re now eye to eye as he sits on his haunches.

“Did you hurt her?” His voice is low, but even through my drugged state, I can still hear the threat there.

Shaking my head, I focus on the girl again, who I hold in my hands. “She was dancing and fell.”

“Into the pool?”

I blink as I stare up at Connor. “I jumped in and pulled her out, but she won’t wake up.” I hug the body closer to me. Water and blood mixes around our feet and flows away from us.

“She was smiling.” It was just the two of us, a private party, and the drugs kept flowing. First it was me giving her some, cutting it up, but I lost count of how much we took or who was cutting what. “Connor, we had so many drugs.” My hold tightens even further on the girl.

“Go back to the house.”

I cling to his words and release the girl. A shiver rushes me as I place her carefully onto the floor. I need a fag. The pack sits on the table in front of the couch. I grab them and light one up.

“I owe you one,” I say to Connor as I leave.

He doesn’t answer me, and I try not to think about what I’m leaving behind.

***

Sweet cookies—that’s all I can smell as I move through the kitchen. Throwing my fag into the sink, I search for them and find a tin of cookies on the counter. I stuff two into my mouth and moan in bliss.

Taking the tin with me, I climb the stairs to my room. “You are my sunshine,” I sing as I eat the next cookie. “My only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray.”

I stuff the next one into my mouth and grin. A trail of crumbs is behind me as I enter my bedroom. “You’ll never know, cookie, how much I love you. Please don’t take my cookies away.”

Clutching the tin tighter, I munch on two more, then I fall onto my bed. My hand roams around the tin, looking for more, but they’re gone.

“Someone ate all my cookies,” I tell the ceiling. My heart pounds as I picture blonde hair coated in blood.

“It’s okay,” I say to myself as I get up and pull off my wet clothes. “Connor will fix it,” I tell myself again as I climb into bed naked. The sheets are cold under me, and my hand searches for the quilt. When my fingers grip the corner, I pull it up over me.

***

I roll and float, my eyes shooting open as my back hits a hard surface. The ceiling looks so far away, and I sit up but quickly close my eyes as my head pounds in pain. I wait until the pain subsides slightly before opening my eyes again. I’m naked on my bedroom floor.

I’m squinting against the throbbing in my head as I search the floor for clothes. Jeans and a T-shirt that smells reasonably clean will do.

The pool house. I need to check the pool house. I’m not sure if I’d been dreaming of a blonde girl. My memory jumps from dancing with her to Connor telling me to leave. No way would Connor have a go after me. It wasn’t his style.

I don’t bother with socks but put on a pair of brogues as I make my way out to the pool house. The light outside feels harsh, and I dip my head lower. The door is open, and when I enter, nothing looks odd.

Walking around the pool, I’m drawn to the wicker couch at the back of the room. I’m sitting on it, looking around the room, and I’m not sure what I expect to find. My pulse spikes as blood running through the cracks in the tile springs to mind. I’m up and looking behind the couch. But there’s nothing, only beige tiles that stare back at me.

“Fuck it.” Getting off the couch, I take a few steps to the pool. Turning my back to the water, I grin as I let myself free-fall into the water. My eyes snap open as cold water assaults my body. Rotating, I break the surface and pull myself out. I’m more alert as I walk back to the house.

“What happened?” Mary shakes her head as she stares at the water that drips from my clothes.

“Ah, shit. Sorry, Mary,” I say as I pull my T-shirt over my head.

“That’s not necessary.” Mary sounds flustered, and when I drop my shirt and reach for my jeans, her face flushes.

“I hate wetting your floors, Mary,” I say with a smile before I drop my jeans. A scream from her has me pulling the jeans back up. I’m not wearing boxers.

“My bad. I ate all your cookies last night. Can you make me more today?” I lean against the counter and smile up at Mary, but she refuses to meet my eye.

“Yes, Darragh. Just go get dressed.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

My phone rings when I enter my bedroom. I pull the jeans off. The chaffing from the material has reddened my skin.

“What’s up?” I answer.

“Where the fuck were you last night?” DJ asks.

I find clean boxers and yank them on.

“I was going to ask you that. I can’t remember. I think I was with a blonde,” I say to DJ, pulling on a T-shirt.

His laughter is loud through the speaker. “Yeah, one minute we were chatting, then I go and get a drink and you’re fucking gone.”

“Well, women before friends,” I say.

He snorts.

“I’ll catch you later,” I tell him. “Going to go feed my belly.”

When I enter the kitchen, Mary gives me a quick once-over. Spreading my arms, I do a little twirl. “I’m dressed, Mary.”

She smiles. “Sit down, Darragh.”

I do as she says. I’m the only one at the table when Una arrives into the kitchen.

“You look rough,” she tells me as she gathers up her red hair and clips it high on her head in a way that defies gravity.

“So do you,” I say to her, and she sticks her tongue out at me.

“I was in bed early,” she says.

I lean across the table. “You might have been in bed early, but I bet my sweet ass you were bumping uglies with shovel face.”

Mary swipes at me, and I sit back in my seat. A fry up is placed in front of me. I stand and kiss Mary on the cheek. “I love you, Mary,” I declare before I sit down and start to eat.

“Who’s shovel face?” Una asks.

I grin and nod. “So you were bumping uglies with shovel face.” I stuff half a sausage into my mouth and wink at Una.

Una’s face flames, and she starts eating her own breakfast. She glances at the door. “I’m just not having this conversation with you.”

I look up as shovel face enters the room. Raising my hand, I wait for a high five. “Una is filling me in on what you guys got up to last night.”

He walks past my raised hand and sits down beside Una.

“Ignore him,” Una tells Shane as he gives her a kiss on the cheek.

“I always do. But we should let him keep talking. Maybe someday he’ll say something intelligent.” Shane’s words have Una grinning.

“Do you really think so?” Una’s enjoying this.

They both look at me, and I focus on my food.

“No, I actually don’t.” Shane’s response is quick.

“How did you even get here? Who let you out of your cage?” I ask Shane, and his shoulders tense. I’m happier now as I munch on my food. Pissing Shane off is such fun.

“Talk to you later, sis,” I tell Una as I stand up. Shane’s shoulders tighten. “And I suppose talk to you later, brother?” I say it really slowly to let the creepiness of that statement sink in.

Shane levels me with a stare, and I leave the kitchen laughing. Too easy. Way too easy.

“Don’t forget you start work with Liam,” Shane shouts after me, and I pause.

“What, in the brothel?” I ask with laughter in my voice. “Oh God no. Make it stop,” I shout as I climb the stairs, and I can hear Una laughing.

***

The silver coating over the painkillers snaps as I gather a handful and wash them down with some coffee. Cars zoom past me, and each one makes my head hurt. I turn into Kells Business Park and drive all the way to the back. Kelly’s Kitchens takes up two large warehouses, and I park my car in the front. The smoke from my cigarette blows out around me as I enter the warehouse.

“DJ!” I roar, using my hands to amplify my voice.

He grins at me before offering me a beer. “The cure,” he says, and I take it, needing a cure badly.

“What’s up, Fitz? I didn’t see you around last night.” I take the lawn chair that’s vacant beside him.

His hood is up, and when our eyes meet, he can’t hold my gaze. The lift doesn’t go the whole way up with Fitz. He’s a mad bastard, so we keep him around.

“My fucking mother found my gun and had a fit. She threatened me with the Gardaí. But I got it back eventually.” He stuffs his hands into his white hoodie as he rocks the chair back and forth.

DJ pops open a fresh beer. “Yeah, but she kept his bullets.” We laugh as the door opens again.

“How are you drinking again?” Art asks as he saunters over to us like he owns the place. He removes his sunglasses and places them in the V of his navy T-shirt. A heavy gold watch shifts as he grips DJ’s hand and they half embrace.

“It’s just the cure,” I say to him, and he shakes his head with a grin.

“Alright, Fitz,” Arrt says.

Fitz nods at Art. They have hostility between them. Art is a sneer, and Fitz doesn’t like it, but it’s never come to blows.

Dragging over a chair, Art sits down. “So, what’s the plan?” His brown hair is dipped with highlights. He spends more time on his appearance than most women do.

Lighting a fag, I sit forward as DJ joins us. I wait until everyone is ready before I tell them my plan. I’m smirking with excitement. Already, I can feel the rush.

“We’re going to rob an ATM,” I say, looking from one to the other. No one looks overly impressed.

“Why? You don’t need money.”

“Neither do you,” I shoot back at Art. He came from money, old money. His well-polished appearance and education makes it questionable why he hangs out with us. I think he likes the chase as much as me.

“So I got word that they’ll fill the links close to midnight. We’re talking about two hundred thousand, peeps.”

DJ’s eyes widen, and I’ve gained Fitz’s attention. “We hit around four tomorrow morning. We need to rob a digger to pull it out of the wall, vehicles that we can burn, and a flatbed to take it away.”

Art rubs his hands together. “I’m in.”

I look at DJ. He removes his cap, runs his hand through his hair, and puts it back on. His vest showcases his tattooed arms.

“Fuck it, I’m in.”

Now it’s Fitz who won’t say no, but we wait, all looking at him. “Yeah, I’m in.”

I slap his back, and he grins at me sideways. I finish my bottle of beer. My headache is nearly gone.

“Are we good to bring the ATM back here?” I ask DJ, and he shakes his head.

“Not this warehouse. I have another one. It’s small, but I don’t want any connection with this one.”

“Fair enough.” His brothers and father are part of Kelly’s Kitchens, so I get him not wanting to tie them into any of this.

“We will need an angle grinder to cut it open.”

“I can do that,” Fitz offers up.

Why the fuck he has an angle grinder is beyond me. I wouldn’t leave him alone with kid scissors.

“So Art, can you steal a Jeep to get us there?”

“You got it, man.” Art nods.

“DJ, we’ll need to block the street, as well as find a way to get the digger there, which I can get.”

He nods. It’s a tight schedule to pull this off, but that makes it more exciting.

“So a Jeep and trailer?” he asks.

I nod. “Yeah.” That should work. I get myself a fresh drink, feeling happy with the details.

“Any chance of getting a spike strip?” I ask, sitting back down.

“I could make one,” Fitz offers up.

Art snorts. “This isn’t Metal Work Class 101,” he says, but I agree with Fitz.

“Yeah, Fitz, that would be cool. Can you have it here for tomorrow night?” I ask.

He rubs his hands on his tracksuit bottoms. “I can do that.”

I raise both eyebrows at Art. “Let’s rob a bank,” I say and he laughs.

“Heard you had trouble over on your side with the Gardaí,” Art says, and the tension in the warehouse seems to rise.

These are my close friends, but they don’t know the ins and outs of my family business. “Nah, just someone who tried to get one up on us and failed,” I say.

“Heard they were looking for a body.” Art focuses on me.

Fitz seems to freeze beside us. We do a lot of dumb shit here, but nothing like what my family does.

“Yeah, they found three,” I say. They nod and DJ shifts his gaze to Art. “Three cows,” I add before taking a deep gulp of the drink as they all laugh with relief. I’m the kind of guy you just never fully know. I wonder if they actually knew me, would they stay?

“It was a vendetta against my brother, Shane. Some bent cop called it in, but he’s pretty red faced now,” I say before lighting up another fag.

“So, did you figure out if you pulled last night?” DJ steers the conversation to somewhat safe ground.

“I can’t remember, to be honest. Had way too much of the white stuff.” Cocaine was too easy of a drug to come by and abuse.

“I picked up a nice little foreign one.” Art smirks.

“You tap it?” I ask, throwing my fag onto the ground and crushing it under my boot.

“Yeah, I tapped it.” His voice drips with pride, and DJ snorts.

The door opens again. I don’t turn around as DJ stands up and walks over to whoever has arrived.

“So what way do we cut up the money?” Fitz asks me, and Art shakes his head at Fitz.

“Equally amongst everyone,” I say.

“Fuck no. He has shit for brains. What can he do?”

“Don’t be an ass. He’ll get a quarter,” I say to Art as I place a hand on Fitz’s arm.

“Guys, I want you to meet Mark.” DJ walks over with Mark, who hobbles toward us on a crutch.

He nods and smiles at everyone, and when our gazes meet, I hope he doesn’t recognize me.

Because I recognize him.