The Inside Man: A Dublin Nights Novel

by Sahin, Brittney

  I was alone in the restroom. Alone with a mirror.

  Have I already mentioned how much I hate my reflection?

  My lips were painted in a semi-nude color with a touch of gloss on top. True to the saleswoman’s word, the color had remained regardless of eating and drinking.

  Would it transfer onto Cole’s dress shirt if I kissed his neck? Would it wind up on his cock if I took him into my mouth?

  My body shuddered as more thoughts flitted through my mind, all revolving around the new League leader of Ireland.

  It was some kind of sick irony that I’d forced my brother to leave The League, begging him not to be a dangerous man, a killer, and now Cole had to fill his shoes. And me? Well, I—

  My thoughts died when the door slowly opened, but it wasn’t a woman entering. It was the actor look-alike.

  He closed the door and brought his back to it, blocking my exit. “I thought we shared a look back there, and when I noticed how long you’d been gone, I began to realize you were waiting for me.”

  I snatched my purse off the counter and tucked it beneath my armpit. “I’m afraid you were mistaken.” I motioned for him to step aside with my free hand, but he didn’t budge.

  He was assessing me, tongue peeking out of the side of his mouth like a snake. His green eyes started on my nude pointed high heels before he worked his gaze up my dark skinny jeans to my top. I had on a Saint Laurent double-breasted jacket with gold buttons over a silk tank top. My hair was down, not the norm for me lately.

  “You like what you see?” I probed, my voice low and on edge.

  “Very much.” He scrubbed a hand over his blond beard. “I was hoping for an Irish gal, but I’ll take an American, too. I’m from Texas.” His smile broadened as I remained stiff and uneasy before him.

  Texas. Of-fucking-course.

  Sounds of a chainsaw screeching echoed in my ears.

  “Well, Irish or American, I don’t think you should ever enter a woman’s restroom like this.” I had to remain calm. In control of the situation. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  He took a step forward, his fingers tapping anxiously at the sides of his faded denim jeans.

  “Do you make it a habit of bothering women like this?”

  “Women like an aggressive guy. A man who can take control.” His breath reeked of vodka.

  And now I couldn’t help but remember Luca in my room in Russia, clutching a bottle of Stolis in hand. Who drank straight vodka out of the bottle unless they wanted to kill their liver?

  Luca was in a League prison now, and it was what Holly had wanted, what she’d assumed I would have wanted, but I wasn’t so sure.

  But I needed to focus and deal with the drunk trying to give Texas a bad name, and I happened to like that state. Fucker.

  Don’t let him win. Fight back, a voice from the prison swept to the front of my mind. The memory nearly had me faltering a step, but I inhaled a calming breath through my nose, gathering my courage.

  “You need to move, and also, I’d advise against bothering another woman like this again.” I inched closer to him, which sucked because his breath was bathing me in a toxic cloud.

  He ran a hand down his cheek and smiled. “Yeah, sweet thang, and what are you going to do about it?”

  I closed my eyes, remembering what I’d learned in that prison, remembering the woman Luca had forced me to become.

  My lids lifted, and I set my purse down on the counter and clenched and unclenched my hands at my sides a few times. “You sure you want to do this?” I was giving him a way out, a chance to walk away. Please, just walk the hell away.

  I took a carefully controlled breath as he edged two steps forward. The friggin’ idiot.

  “You really should leave.” My last warning did no good, and so, I was left with no choice.

  I dragged up memories of Luca, of the twisted monster who took so much from me, and I stepped forward and swung.

  * * *

  “You good?”

  I blinked out of my stupor and carried my focus to Emilia, who’d asked the question. “Yeah, why?”

  “No reason,” Emilia answered, but there was definite curiosity in her eyes.

  Did she know something? No, she would have come into the bathroom if she’d heard the struggle when that ass had shown up in there twenty minutes ago.

  I couldn’t keep hiding my hand beneath the table without drawing suspicion, not with Emilia’s watchful eyes on me. “You have any lotion on you? This cold weather is cracking my skin to the point there’s nearly blood on my hands.” Yeah, I may have loved movies, but I sucked at acting. I doubted Emilia would buy that story, but I had to try.

  “No, sorry,” Emilia replied, but Holly began fishing around in her big bag and offered me some vanilla-scented lotion.

  “Always prepared,” Holly said with a smile as I took the tube of lotion with the hand I hadn’t used to hit the Texan.

  “Thanks.” I was in the process of squirting some of the cream-colored lotion onto my palm and squeezed way too much when I spotted Cole coming through the entrance, Sebastian at his side.

  I hadn’t been expecting them. Just great.

  I wiped the excess lotion on a napkin and slid the tube back to Holly’s side of the table.

  “Oh, good. They’re done with that fighting stuff.” Holly stood at the sight of her husband, and Sebastian’s lips stretched when he took her in. It’d been less than three hours, but she acted like she hadn’t seen him in a year. She hooked her arms around his neck, and he brought his mouth down over hers.

  I shifted my focus to Cole, who continued his approach while the two lovebirds kissed, oblivious to everyone watching them with envy.

  “Take my seat,” Emilia offered and scooted around next to me.

  Now I had no choice but to look right at him. Continue to hide the evidence of my encounter with the Texan.

  I wouldn’t be able to keep myself from staring into his eyes, wondering whether or not he read my letter. Of course, he read it. But what did he think? I wasn’t ready to talk to him about it yet, and I hadn’t planned on seeing him this soon after giving it to him, either.

  “We would’ve been here sooner, but we had to make a quick stop.” Cole removed his jacket and sat in Emilia’s empty chair.

  Holly and Sebastian strode over a beat later and sat across from us next to Cole.

  “And where was that?” I asked.

  “Do you remember that casino that used to be near Merrion Square?” he asked, and I shook my head no. “Someone is running illegal games there now.”

  “And you shut him down?” Holly inquired.

  “No, right now it’s just gambling. Poker and such,” Cole explained. “I’m not looking to get into war with a powerful Russian mob at the moment, but I will if I have to.”

  “Russian mob?” I squeezed out the words around the knot in my throat, the worry pouring out of me.

  “There’s more than one Russian crime family, but yeah, he’s connected to one.” Cole caught my eyes, picking up on the fact the topic had disturbed me. He was thinking about Russia now. My captor. My prison. The mood at our table changed like a sudden breeze had swept through the room. I was pretty sure everyone felt it.

  I was also thinking about something else now, my thoughts going dark, but I didn’t want to call up the memories. God, how I didn’t want to remember. I’d tried so hard not to think about Russia, but I couldn’t run from what happened there forever. I knew I would have to face it head-on eventually. It was the right thing to do, wasn’t it? “Does this Russian group have a strong presence here?” I asked, my voice almost hoarse.

  Sebastian reached across the table and patted the top of my right hand since my left was still hidden on my lap. “You don’t have anything to worry about. The mob knows of The League.”

  “Most of the Russian crime families are also enemies of The Alliance,” Emilia added, and I wasn’t quite sure if she was trying to offer the famous saying, “an enemy
of my enemy is my friend” or whatnot, but I couldn’t shake off the chills now crisscrossing my skin just thinking about all of this.

  Sebastian pulled his hand away and sat back in his chair, hooking his arm around Holly. “So, anyone bother you while I was gone?” He must have thought I couldn’t handle the reminder of the Russian prison, so he’d changed the subject.

  “There was a guy ogling Alessia, but he didn’t have the balls to actually make a move.”

  I almost choked on my drink mid-sip at Emilia’s comment. Actually, I sort of did choke. I started to cough, and Emilia slapped my back twice.

  “Went down the wrong pipe.” My eyes grew watery, and I thanked Cole for the glass of water that seemed to show up out of nowhere when I needed it. “Thanks.” I took a few small sips, using my right hand instead of left.

  “Glad the guy knew to stay away.” Cole’s response had me sucking down more water.

  You were mine. His words from last night came back to me, and I took a calming breath.

  “So, poker, huh?” Emilia asked. “When I lived in Vegas, I couldn’t stay away from the game. Nothing beats taking money from men who think women can’t play at their level, then proving them wrong.”

  When I glimpsed Cole, his eyes were down. Was he remembering the one time we played poker together?

  He’d been furious when I’d joined in on that game. I’d been out with my friend Jasmine, two weeks before our high school graduation, and we’d heard about a college party. Cole happened to be there, and some of the guys were playing strip poker with the girls, and we were invited to join.

  Cole hadn’t been playing, but after I’d accepted the invite, he mumbled and cursed under his breath, then sat next to me.

  I was good at a lot of things. Poker wasn’t one of them.

  When I was down to only my bra and panties, Cole grabbed my clothes, snatched me off the floor, threw me over his shoulder, and took me into a guest room.

  The drunk college kids had cheered, assuming we were about to get it on, but nope, all he did was force me to get dressed and “go bloody home”—his words. He’d been all breathy and angry as I put my jeans and top back on. And then, he lifted his hand and punched the wall. Not hard enough to knock it through the plaster, but hard enough that I had to ice his knuckles when he got me “bloody home” later that night.

  My eyes now moved to his hand clutching the glass and to his red knuckles. My left hand looked similar. “You should wear gloves,” I murmured my thoughts out loud.

  “He does.” Sebastian followed my eyes to Cole’s hand.

  “That’s from something else.” Cole cleared his throat and carried his eyes to the ceiling for a second before his attention slid down the wall. When his eyes thinned, I realized he was focusing on the pictures.

  Memories. I’m right there with you.

  “What’s your favorite one?” Holly asked. “Movie, I mean.”

  Emilia glimpsed the images on the walls. “Godfather.”

  “Of course,” Holly said with a laugh. “I’m going with Thor.” Yeah, she was trying to get a rise out of my brother. I loved her even more for that.

  “Because you have the hots for that actor, huh?” Sebastian pressed a kiss to Holly’s temple.

  “Why would I need him when I have you?” She elbowed him in the side.

  “What about you?” Emilia twisted to better look at me, her eyes momentarily dipping to my lap, to the dark green linen napkin I had resting over my left hand. “Wizard of Oz is a classic.”

  “She hates that movie,” Cole answered for me.

  “Whaaat?” Holly asked. “Who doesn’t like that movie?!”

  “Wizard of Oz creeps me out,” I answered.

  “Okay, that makes no sense.” Holly shot me a playful smile.

  “Those flying monkeys. The green witch. Yeah, maybe I can see it,” Emilia came in for my defense.

  “Horror movies scare me, but they’re supposed to. The Wizard of Oz shouldn’t freak me out, and the fact that it does—just no.” I shook my shoulders as if cold for exaggerated effect but then caught Cole’s eyes.

  I wouldn’t survive this night much longer, not with Cole attempting to read my thoughts like a Jedi. Wait, was that even the right analogy? Cole had always been the Star Wars fan when we were growing up, and I just watched him watching the movies.

  Those smoldering eyes finally let go of mine, and I lowered my focus to my glass in a daze.

  We’d need to talk, especially about the letter. But he had a lot on his plate with his new responsibilities, and I just didn’t want to add more to it. And selfishly, I still didn’t know how much truth to drop on him. How much could he take without reaching the edge of his control?

  I did my best to act normal for the next hour we were at the pub. Pretending to be the woman everyone wanted me to be. The woman I had been before Luca faked my death.

  And whenever Cole glimpsed me, so many questions on his mind, I’d guiltily force my gaze away.

  I was grateful when the night was over, and I’d managed to get by without explaining my red knuckles.

  “I’ll swing by the gym in the morning so we can train,” Emilia said once we were outside. “Have you thought about coming, too?”

  I looked left and right, wondering who in the hell she was talking to, then realized her question had been pointed my way. “Why would I, um, go to the gym?”

  Watching Cole train would probably leave my cheeks about as pink as cheeks could naturally get without being slapped. Plus, I’d have to act like I didn’t know how to throw a punch. And again, my acting skills were subpar.

  “Maybe you should train?” The way Emilia studied me had me nervous. There was something in her eyes, something I couldn’t figure out. She’d read me earlier, and she was reading me now. What was she thinking?

  “Everything we’re doing is so she doesn’t have to defend herself,” Sebastian said, his voice borderline growly.

  “And you’re not always going to be around.” Holly folded her arms and eyed her husband as we stood off to the side of the pub entrance.

  Cole had yet to put on his jacket, and I was pretty sure I knew why. He wanted to offer it to me because I only had on a blazer, and I was shaking from the cold.

  “You want to learn, too?” Sebastian quirked a brow at his wife, surprised.

  “Maybe.” Holly shrugged.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea.” Cole came up alongside me and wordlessly handed me his coat.

  I planned a rebuttal, but I knew he’d win, so I slipped my arms into his coat and tried to breathe naturally instead of taking in a deep inhale of his sexy cologne like I wanted to. I tucked my left hand into his pocket, realizing the jacket would make it easier to conceal the evidence of what happened in that bathroom.

  “Maybe she should learn,” Sebastian said as if admitting defeat, which wasn’t like him. “With the city still a bit out of control, it might not be a bad idea. Carry a sidearm.” He glimpsed his wife. “You, too.”

  “There are restrictions and—”

  “We’ll do what needs to be done,” Sebastian interrupted Holly. “First, we hit the gym. Then we hit my private firing range.” Sebastian motioned toward the limo when it rolled up as if on cue. “Let’s get you home.”

  I started to remove Cole’s coat, but he held his palm up. “Keep it.”

  “Okay,” I mouthed, finding myself unable to protest.

  Cole stared deep into my eyes, so many unspoken words stretched between us. “See you tomorrow.”

  I did my best to offer some sort of not-so-awkward goodbye, then ducked into the limo and sat next to Holly.

  I just wanted to be normal. But after what happened with that asshole in the bathroom earlier, I was worried it was proof I didn’t know how to be me again.

  Once at the hotel, I got rid of my expensive clothes and went to my dresser for a pair of cheap, thin gray sweats and a white tee.

  And then I collapsed onto my bed, only t
o wake up a short while later from a nightmare.

  But my dreams hadn’t been the stuff of fiction. They were memories.

  I gripped the bedsheet to my chest, sitting upright. Tears streaming down my face.

  Fuck you, Luca.

  Chapter Seven

  Cole

  I kept my back pinned to the steel pillar in Adam’s gym, willing my racing heart to slow down, and my palms to stop sweating. I needed to get it together, but after spending time with Alessia at the pub last night, I knew that facing her this morning would have me all out of bloody sorts, especially since we were here to train her and Holly in self-defense moves. I shouldn’t have drunk so much espresso before showing up. I was already on edge.

  There was so much I wanted to say to Alessia, but we’d have an audience today, which meant sharing my thoughts about her letter would have to wait.

  The words she’d written to me rolled around in my head, and it was all I’d been able to think about. Standing inside that poker room last night with Sebastian, I’d been unfocused. Off my game, which was the last thing I needed to happen in a Russian-owned gaming room. And Sebastian had noticed, too. He’d pulled me aside, ready to knock the shite out of me.

  “I’m worried about Alessia,” I’d told him, and he’d backed off, his mouth tightening. A nod of understanding.

  Alessia entered the gym with Holly and Sebastian as I taped my hands in preparation. Emilia trailed in after them.

  Adam had closed the gym off to everyone for a couple of hours so we’d have the place to ourselves, but he couldn’t make it. Anna was having Braxton-Hicks contractions, and he didn’t want to leave her side in case she went into labor early.

  Without saying a word, only offering a small smile, Alessia retreated to the ladies’ locker room with Emilia and Holly.

  The heavy bag called my name. The need to strike something burned through my fingertips.

  I snapped out a hard punch. Then another. Before I knew it, I was breaking into a sweat, my rage for Luca Moreau filling every crevice of my body.