Page 80 of Connor's Claim

“Going down? Ah, it’s already lit,” she mumbled.

Dixie took her elbow. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, hi, Dixie. I’m fine.”

“You’re not, I can tell.”

I slid to the side. Took out my phone so I didn’t appear nosy. They were obviously friends as well as coworkers, though I’d heard Dixie warn other girls about Alisha’s harsh judgement if they were caught slacking.

Alisha blew out a breath, her blonde fringe floating. “I don’t have time for a breakdown. Not at work.”

Dixie shook her lightly. “Work can wait five minutes if you need a shoulder to cry on. We’ll hole up in the changing rooms.”

Alisha dropped her voice to a pained whisper. “I can’t stop. It’s nothing. I’m just missing R a lot.” She put emphasis on the initial.

Who the heck was ‘R’? The only man I knew around here with that initial was Riordan.

“Heard he was thrown out,” Dixie whispered back.

Yeah, not Riordan, then.

Alisha raised a dainty shoulder. “It wasn’t fair to him, but I respect Arran’s decision. I miss him so much it’s killing me, and it’s made me realise something. I like him. He wants someone to love, not that he asked me, but I made it clear I wasn’t going to settle down. I think I was wrong.” She hugged her arms. “He’s out there cosying up to another gang, and I can’t even speak to him. He’s going to die, and I’ll never see him again.”

The lift doors opened. The two women exited, and I trailed after, still pondering the identity of Alisha’s mystery man. I knew Convict had been sent to join the Four Milers, so ‘R’ had to be his real initial.

Almost immediately, someone darted over to her. “Alisha, sorry to leap on you. We’ve had a couple of people call in sick. The bar upstairs is down a bartender, starting in an hour.”

Alisha pinched the spot between her eyes. “It never ends.”

I scooted on over, the opportunity presenting itself nicely. “Alisha? If ye need a stand-in, I’m available.”

She twisted to look me over, approval over my revealing tank top then a pretty scowl at my pyjamas.

“I’ll change, obviously,” I added.

Slowly, she inclined her head. “If you’re willing, I won’t say no.”

I took a brief instruction then danced away to fetch my food. Selling my body was the extreme option for working here, but serving drinks would give me a fly-on-the-wall view of how the place operated.

Trotting down the steps, I hit the basement level. Waved to the guard at the back desk who was leaving, a vape concealed in his hand. Come Friday, this floor would be out of bounds. Arran’s sex-chase game would be underway, and I intended to watch but from a distance.

The door popped open, and I smiled at the dude on the other side with a food bag in his hand.

“Cassie?” he asked.

“That’s me. I tipped on the app.”

“Much appreciated!”

Beyond him, a meaty engine revved.

I stilled.

Directly across the car park, a big man sat astride his motorbike, black helmet on and his visor down. Riordan. The beam from the bike’s bright headlight spilled through the metal fence to the riverbank, but there was also a downlight that pooled around his feet. A pretty blue colour. So fancy. He peered around and backed out of his space, but then his gaze swungmy way. He stopped moving, then with a fluid motion, killed the engine and hopped off, his heavy boots thudding on the concrete.

He’d seen me. Oh, shite.

“The food,” I gasped to the delivery man.