Page 24 of Shattered Veil
Hearing his boss’s name for the first time stills me. “O’Rourke?”
Irish...
Dad rubs his chin. “Did I not mention his name?”
“No.” My throat tightens.
Balor was Irish. Spoke with an accent. A sexy one I’ll never un-hear.
“Mr. O’Rourke is sophisticated hacker like me.” Dad sits me down on a wing chair. “Before we go, there is something I must warn you about his family...”
MY JAW HANGS OPEN INthe back of the Uber as we ride to the restaurant.
The O’Rourkes are Irish Mafia.
I didn’t hear much after that.
Didn’t need to. Although, I wanted to scream at my father. How could he get into bed with themafia? Then he told me how much he was making, and that he would purchase me my own apartment. My heart raced at that, but I don’t want to be handed some luxury condo.
Not when I want to teach special-needs kids in amoderate-income school district.
I’ll spread my wings and live on my own again soon. And in a place I choose whenIfeel safe.
Spread your legs...
That voice, that sexy brogue is stuck in my head.
Oblivious to my shock, Dad chats with the Uber driver, who, upon hearing my father’s thick accent, started talking with him in Russian.
A language he never bothered to teach me.
My father saw a lot happen in his life. He’s tough Russian stock. My mother was an American doctor from Darien, Connecticut, treating sick kids in Moscow. They fell in love, got married, and moved back to Darien where they had me.
Unlike Mom, the sight of blood makes me squeamish. But I inherited her giving spirit. I love teaching and the nurturing aspect of Special-Needs Education.
Inside the Uber, I fix Dad’s tie. “Are you sure about taking this job?”
“I did my research,” he says, holding my hand. “They are dangerous people, but fair to those who are loyal. That made the decision easy for me, after the way those...” He curses his old boss under his breath. “Plus, if we earn their trust, the O’Rourkes will protect us. Protectyou.”
“I don’t need protecting.” Not atthatprice.
My father’s phone buzzes, and he takes it out of his stylish wool overcoat. “Oh, he is there and has table for us.”
“Is this an interview? Or do I have the job?”
“It was part of my negotiation.”
“I could have found a job myself, Dad.”
He smiles at me with soft eyes. “After that beast laid his dirty hands on you, I would prefer you to acclimate back into this city under my watchful eyes. Once I am more comfortable with the O’Rourkes, I intend tomention—”
“No!” I gasp.
Wes is a cop, and the O’Rourkes are Irish Mafia.
From what little I know, mafia bosses are all brutal. And when ranked in viciousness, the Irish leave other syndicates in the dust. Cruel mafia against a psycho cop? The streets will be stained with blood.
“I’m living in your apartment with you, working with you. I’ll be safe. Iamsafe.” I consider my situation differently.