Aidan (The Doherty Mafia Book 2)

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Aidan (The Doherty Mafia Book 2) Page 16

by Kasey Krane


  I literally pinched myself and cried out when it hurt.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Aidan asked with a laugh when he caught me doing it.

  “This has to be a dream. This can’t actually be happening.”

  “Well, you better believe it baby. Although I can think of a few other ways to make you really feel it,” he said, putting his mug down.

  Then he grabbed my knees and spread them apart. He wanted a taste of me and who was I to deny him what he wanted?

  Sneak Peak at Colin

  Marley

  It took a full twenty minutes for all the coffees to be prepared to the exact specifications of my coworkers.

  Granted, I wasn’t the one making them, but I was tired of standing there and watching the boy make coffee art while I could be out there catching bad guys.

  Just the thought of it made me roll my eyes. How pathetic did that sound?

  Did my ambitions sound like the ones a child would have? Was I just being naive imagining I could ever be taken seriously?

  “Here you go,” he said, winking as he pushed the holder towards me. It was going to be a chore carrying all these cups back to the precinct. I was going to have two full hands.

  I knew I was a rookie and I expected there to be some level of roasting when I was first posted here. I mean, I wasn’t an idiot—I understood the hierarchy in organizations like this. I’d been through the training, I’d taken the tests; I knew there was a gender imbalance in the system and a power struggle in play.

  Not only was I very young and inexperienced, but I am also a female. It was like I had every reason to fail and yet, I was determined. No matter how much they pushed me around and made me feel like I had nothing to contribute, I kept on going.

  I’d been in Las Vegas for close to three months now. I was a qualified detective with a thirst for solving crime and doing the right thing. My educational qualifications proved I was smart and had the capacity to do a good job—and yet, here I was, spending half my days on coffee runs.

  I carefully carried the coffees back to the precinct, being forced to push the door open with my back. I took the elevator up to the third floor, hoping I might magically walk into an opportunity of being assigned a new and exciting case.

  But really, who was I going to impress with my coffee carrying skills?

  None of the men sitting at their desks or standing around in groups even lifted their eyes up to look at me. It was like I was invisible.

  The only time any of these guys took notice of me was when they remembered to check me out and undress me with their eyes. Sometimes I wondered if I’d only been hired for this role to provide entertainment for the men.

  My cheeks flushed red and I was angry as I walked to the end of the room and put down the coffees on a large table. I’d already made up my mind; I wasn’t going around offering the coffees to them one by one. They could come get it themselves.

  “Your orders have arrived!” I yelled, to make myself heard.

  Most of them interrupted their conversations and jokes to look in my direction. None of them looked impressed.

  “You didn’t get any muffins?” one of the guys complained.

  A grumble rang out in the room, like somehow, I had managed to deeply disappoint them.

  It was like they’d collectively decided to wear me down.

  Any other girl in my place would have broken down in tears by now.

  I had no choice but to carry the coffee for our chief to his office, he was expecting it.

  I kept my head down as I walked down the room, leaving a trail of snickering men behind me.

  The chief’s door wasn’t completely shut so I could hear voices when I came to a stop there. He was on the phone with someone, so I decided not to interrupt him. He probably wouldn’t have been pleased if I did.

  I had the coffee in my hand as I stood at the door listening. Eavesdropping was certainly out of character for me but this was the better alternative right now to walking back to the room full of men gossiping about how incompetent I was at everything.

  Then, the phone call got my attention when I heard a few key words.

  “Yeah, you mean Patrick Doherty?” he said.

  I had a vague idea who he was talking about. Was Patrick Doherty the boss of the Doherty mafia down in New York? The mafia hadn’t been my area of interest so I didn’t know much about them.

  “Well, what we need is a mole. At this point, the only way we can build any kind of case against them is through inside information.”

  I held my breath as I listened intently. It sounded like he was worried about this. Maybe he was working on borrowed time and had to come up with a case on a deadline?

  “If there’s one thing we’ve learned about them it’s that they’re not snitches,” he continued. Then he mumbled something else in the phone and ended the call.

  I almost stumbled into his office, cursing myself for my clumsiness. He looked up, surprised.

  “Your coffee, sir,” I smiled at him.

  He tipped his head towards the table where I set it down.

  I didn’t know why, but I waited a few moments in the hopes he would have something of importance to say to me. Anything other than how he liked his coffee.

  “What?” he groaned, snapping his head up to me.

  I wanted to say something about my interest in working on the mafia case. I knew I was inexperienced and had a lot to learn, but I was determined to prove myself.

  “I just…I haven’t been assigned a case yet,” I managed to say.

  He narrowed his eyes at me, like he was in shock that I’d brought this subject up.

  “I’ll assign you a case when I decide you can handle it.”

  “How do you know what I can handle when you don’t know me at all?” It was a slip-up. I knew I shouldn’t have spoken to him like that, but I was too frustrated to care at this point.

  “Keep this attitude up and you can bet I won’t have any interest in getting to know you at all,” he replied.

  Want more? Get Colin here!

  About Kasey Krane

  Kasey Krane is a tattoo artist living in the beautiful (and hot) state of Texas. She enjoys drawing but writing has recently become a new passion for her. Especially when it's too damn hot to do anything outside. Whiskey neat is her drink of choice and she's never met a truck she doesn't like. Enjoy her bad boys, she sure does.

  Sign up for her mailing list here!

  More Books by Kasey Krane

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  About Savannah Rylan

  Savannah Rylan is a romance writer that spends most of her time writing and reading with her cat, Gris. When not penning the next great American novel, (HA), you can find her on the beach with a drink in her hand or at the gym testing out some strange new position. Yoga, obviously. She lives in Southern California with her husband and Gris, the true love of her life.

  You can join her mailing list here!

  Check out her website!

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