Forever Dublin (Forever #2)

by Brittney Sahin

  “Well, I’m John,” the man said. “You all ready to get started?”

  Six

  Adam

  The twenty-page report about logistical issues from our manufacturer in Beijing, where Da was currently on a business trip, was giving me a headache. I had too many other things on my mind.

  The fight Friday night kept entering my head. Every punch. The blood that had painted the floors—my friend’s blood.

  I dropped the papers in my hand, shut my eyes, and steadied my hands on the desk, trying to force the images from my head.

  “You all right, bro?”

  I pushed back in my chair, snapping my eyes open, and looked at Sean. His pale blue eyes were on me as I loosened the knot of my tie. Was it hot in here? I rose to my feet, unsnapped the buttons on my vest and flung it on the couch near my desk.

  “Adam?”

  I gripped the back of my neck and came around in front of my desk. “I’m fine.”

  “And you expect me to believe that?” He tossed a file on the stack on my desk and slumped down in the chair in front of me.

  I shrugged. “No, I guess not.” I laughed a little. I was never good at keeping secrets from him. We were fraternal twins and, although we were nothing alike, he had a knack for reading my damn mind.

  “You tell Ma about Les yet?” Sean straightened his blue tie and cracked his neck, looking up at me.

  “No.” I started fidgeting with my sleeves and rolled them to my elbows. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. She’ll barrel straight to the hospital and give him one of her lectures. And I already gave him a mouthful.”

  “Good. You know how dangerous fighting is.” He wet his lips, and his brow wrinkled. “What were you even doing there? I thought you didn’t—”

  “I don’t,” I yelled. “But Les called me just before the fight. He knew he shouldn’t have been fighting that prick, and I tried to talk him out of it, but he’s a stubborn arse.”

  “He’s lucky to be alive. Does he know that?”

  “I sure as hell hope so.”

  Sean nodded. “Good. Then maybe he won’t be so stupid as to set foot in another ring again.” He looked back over his shoulder as a group of people started past the clear glass walls of my office and paused outside. “New interns?” His eyes found mine as he clapped his hands together and popped to his feet.

  “Sean.” But it was too late—he was already rushing to the door.

  I followed after him and stood in the doorframe, watching as he greeted the group.

  “How’s it going, John?” I asked quietly as Sean sputtered a few words about the company, giving the little speech he gave every year.

  John sighed and looked over at me. “I have high hopes.” He smirked. “For the most part.”

  John was a great judge of character. Within the first week, he could ferret out at least two candidates who had no business being in the company. The interns either quit, or he’d highly encouraged them to rethink their chosen career. He was by no means a prick, but he was tough, and he didn’t fancy wasting his time with anyone who wasn’t ready to work just as hard as himself.

  I cleared my throat a little when Sean stood in front of Anna. He held her hand between his two palms and must have said something funny because she laughed, which proved to be the sweetest noise. Damn. What was wrong with me?

  I still couldn’t believe that she was living at Les’s apartment. Les would have had a heart attack if he’d been there when Anna had come out of the bathroom in her tiny nightshirt.

  My eyes wandered to the stain on her chest, and I tried not to crack a smile. Her embarrassment was cute. But I couldn’t afford to think about what she looked like beneath her shirt. She worked for the company now, and I wasn’t about to get caught up in a sexual harassment lawsuit.

  Still, trying to wash away the memory of that night would require extra measures. Perhaps it was time I scrolled through my phone and called up an ex of mine.

  “I think you should let them get back to it,” I hollered to Sean, who was now at the center of the pack of interns. Anna, however, was just in front of me. Her back was to me, and my gaze dipped down her back to her long legs.

  I forced my eyes down to the floor.

  Stop it! Lawsuit!

  Our company never had so much as a whisper of indiscretion charged against our name in the hundred and fifty or more years we’d been open. Even as much as my twin liked to date women from the office, he didn’t hit on a woman within the walls of the building. I watched him like a hawk, too. Of course, I was no saint, either. We both had our faults.

  Feck. I needed to get back in my office and away from Anna. Away from her at work, at least. I started to turn, but I could feel it—her eyes on me. I looked over at her, and she was staring at my arms. More specially, the tattoo on the inside of my one arm.

  I shot her a smile when she dragged her gorgeous greens up my torso and met my eyes. Her long lashes blinked a few times, her cheeks brightened red, and she looked away. She pushed her long, wavy, reddish blonde hair to her back. It was . . . cute. And cute on someone as sexy as her was too much for me to handle right now.

  With that, I nodded at John and darted back into my office. I loosened my tie all the way and yanked it off, tossing it alongside my vest.

  “So?” Sean shut the door and leaned his shoulder against it, crossing his ankles and arms. My brother’s lips slanted into a smile. “Holy hell, thank God I’m not working directly with them. Did you see the blonde—or is she a redhead?” He shook his head and waved his hand dismissively, “And the other two? Three hot—”

  “Stop.” I groaned. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  He chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Oh come on.”

  “Anna is off limits. Not just at work. She’s off limits everywhere.” I sank in my chair and moved the mouse, making my computer come back to life.

  “Anna? You mean the blonde? Only her?”

  I’d fecked up. I hadn’t meant to single her out. I looked up at Sean, and he squinted at me as if I’d lost my damn mind. Then his smile grew even larger. “Oh. Say no more. You have a thing for her.”

  “What? No!”

  “Well then, why is she off limits?” He was pushing me on purpose, damn him.

  “She just is,” I grumbled and waved my hands in the air like a fool. “End of story.”

  ***

  I needed to get out of the office. I didn’t usually jet out at five, but I was suffocating today. Too much was on my mind, and I needed to breathe.

  I got up onto my motorcycle but paused as I held the helmet in my hands. The interns were exiting the building, walking down the wide steps and to the parking lot.

  One of the interns—I think her name was Kate—was talking to Anna, and I noticed her eyes laser focused on me. She elbowed Anna in the side, and I looked away. I wasn’t in the mood for small talk.

  I pushed my helmet on, secured it, and sparked my bike to life as Anna and Kate parted ways. Just as I was about to jet, my damn phone began vibrating in my pocket.

  I shut off the engine and propped my helmet between myself and the bike while reaching for my phone. It was Les.

  “Hey, Mr. McGregor.” Kate wet her lips and stopped at my side.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to take this call,” I explained. “Have a good night.”

  She smiled at me, and I waited for her to leave, then hit the green button on my phone. “What’s up?”

  “I have a problem,” Les said.

  I hung my head, waiting for the blow.

  “Can you come?”

  “Aye.” I ended the call and tore off in a hurry.

  The roads were dry now, making it easier for me to push the speed. Twenty minutes later, I parked my bike and started for the hospital entrance, the helmet tucked under my arm as I walked.

  I closed in on the building but halted a few meters away.

  It was him.

  I’d done my best to avoid him for so long. Feck L
es for bringing him back into my life.

  Donovan stood off to the side of the hospital with one of his lackeys. His thinning black hair was slicked back like normal, and his fat lips flipped into a broad grin. “There you are, mate. Been expecting ya.”

  Why the feck didn’t Les tell me Donovan was here? What the bleedin’ hell was going on?

  I tried to gather my thoughts as I approached him and the thug to his right.

  “Why are ya here?” I asked once in front of the pair of arseholes. I dropped the helmet to the ground, preparing myself for a fight.

  Donovan lit his cigarette, ignoring the no smoking sign just behind his shoulder, and then cocked his head, his pockmarked face shifting up. His dark eyes found mine, and I stood my ground, my jaw ticking as I grappled with the emotions that soared through me.

  Don’t start a Goddamn war with him, I told myself. But I was unable to listen to my own damn commands—my hands fisted at my sides as I eyed the giant by Donovan. “I asked why you’re here.” I attempted to maintain control of my twitchy palms by pressing my fingertips even harder into them.

  “I’m guessing Les didn’t tell you.” Donovan blew a puff of smoke my way, and I dodged my head to the side. I didn’t want anything that touched him near my face.

  “Get to it, will ya!” I shouted.

  “Les owes me fifty large.”

  Fifty thousand? Jesus, did Les bet on himself in the fight? I rolled my eyes. “Damn it, Donovan. You know I’m good for it. I’ll go to the bank in the morning when they’re open.”

  “That’s not enough.”

  Great, he wanted interest. Why should I be surprised? Well, I didn’t care. As long as Donovan left Les alone—for good—I’d pay nearly anything. “I don’t want Les fighting again once the debt has been settled.”

  Donovan’s deep laughter had me lowering my head in disgust. “He’s already agreed to a rematch against Frankie in November.”

  That’s why Les wanted to fight Frankie again. My mouth tightened, and I took a step back, my eyes widening a fraction. “No. Hell, no. If he thinks he has to fight to try and pay you back—”

  “Of course not. If you’d shut your bleeding cakehole and let me explain.” He put out his cigarette and closed the gap between us. “There’s only one way Les is off the hook. I’ll forget the fifty plus interest, and I’ll even pull him from the fight if . . .”

  Don’t say it. Don’t fecking say it.

  “. . . you fight Frankie.”

  I closed my eyes.

  My mind gathered images from my past, and I could feel my hands trembling at my sides.

  “Fight.” Donovan’s hot breath was near my face, and I stepped back, my eyes flashing open.

  “No.”

  “Don’t be such a Goddamn pussy.” Donovan’s eyes gleamed with something that bordered on excitement. He was itching for this.

  “I can’t fight again.” I tried to keep my words steady as I spoke, but I worried the tremble erupting through my body would betray the message. “You know I can’t.”

  Donovan tipped his shoulder up. “Then Les fights again, and he keeps fighting until he earns enough to pay me back every penny he owes me. Because I don’t want your money. I want blood money.” Donovan sneered. “You never fought for the money. You did it because you loved it. It was a thing of beauty, watching you fight. You were the best, Adam. But you turned into a pussy.”

  “Shut the feck up.” I turned from him and dragged my palms down my face.

  “You want it. You know you do. You can’t even step into a room where there’s fighting because you’re too afraid you won’t be able to stop yourself from getting inside the cage.” Donovan was behind me now.

  I spun around and threw my hand into the air, holding my fist near his face. My jaw strained, my body tense—I wanted to knock the grin off his face.

  Donovan’s lackey rushed to his side, prepared to defend him, but Donovan motioned him away with a wave of the hand. “He won’t hit me, relax. I taught him everything he knows.”

  I stepped back and lowered my hand. “I won’t do it, Donovan. I’m not that man anymore.”

  I had to keep telling myself that.

  “Hey, when you saw Les in the Octagon Friday night, tell me you didn’t wish it was you instead. Tell me that being there didn’t excite you. That you don’t regret your decision to quit.”

  “Go feck yourself.” I jerked my chin up. “I’m done with this conversation. Les isn’t fighting. I’ll give you a hundred thousand euros, and you’ll keep away from him.” I stalked past Donovan and his thug and moved toward the sliding glass doors of the hospital, ready to blast my anger at Les. What had he been thinking, betting money he didn’t have?

  “What about the pretty girl staying at Les’s apartment?” Donovan barked out from behind, and my body trembled at his words. “American, right? Smoking hot. I’d like to see how she—”

  I turned back around in a flash, storming toward Donovan, but the blonde arse stepped in front of him. “What’d you say?” I gritted my teeth.

  Donovan moved in front of his lackey. “Maybe you should go see her. I think she’ll be getting visitors soon.”

  My heart jumped in my chest as I stared into his beady eyes. “If anything happens to her—”

  “Sure, because threats work so well with me.” Donovan’s eyes glimmered with amusement.

  I reached for my helmet off the ground.

  “I’m guessing we’ll be talking again soon,” Donovan called as I rushed back to my bike.

  Seven

  Anna

  I was losing my mind. Okay, so maybe my past was influencing my paranoia, but my spine tingled, and my skin was dotted with goose bumps as I walked down the street and to the apartment.

  I peeked over my shoulder again at the two men in biker jackets that stalked with quick steps, trailing twenty feet behind me. When one of the guys—the uglier of the two, with a bulbous nose and swollen, inflated ears—made eye contact with me, I gasped and looked back ahead.

  I debated ducking into a store or pub, but the street was busy enough to keep me safe. It was Grafton Street, after all. A tourist spot. Even for a Monday, the street was hopping. Men with guitars played, wailing Irish tunes drifted down the street, and people stood outside the row of pubs up ahead, enjoying happy hour. What can happen to me here?

  I was being stupid. Just because the guys had been back there since I got off the bus didn’t mean they were following me.

  I turned off Grafton and started down a slightly less busy street. I was only two blocks away from the apartment. I had memorized the route to and from the bus stop yesterday, to make sure I would have no hiccups getting to work on my first day.

  As much as I wanted to steal another glimpse over my shoulder, I kept my head straight, looking forward.

  I rounded the last corner.

  I was almost there.

  I pulled my arms across my chest and attempted to pick up speed. Why hadn’t I brought sneakers or boots to wear for the walk? My heels kept jamming in the cracks of the cobblestone pavement.

  When I spotted the steps leading to the apartment building, I inhaled a lungful of air. I was so ready for this day to be over. It had been mentally exhausting, and mostly because of Adam. I still couldn’t believe I was going to work with him. It had taken all of my restraint to pull my gaze from his corded forearms at the office today. What were those markings? I’d never been one to be drawn to tattoos, but for some reason I couldn’t take my eyes off of Adam’s. Even thinking of it sent a strange warmth to my stomach.

  Reaching the door to the apartment, I raised my hand, ready to punch the code on the device outside the building, but my hand hung in the air in front of the black keypad.

  The two men who’d been at my heels were reflected in the glass door of the building. They had stopped at the bottom of the steps, and their eyes were focused on me.

  My lungs expanded and my heart rate increased as I tried to figure out wha
t to do.

  I noticed other people passing by behind the pair of men. I lowered my hand, deciding I’d be safer on the street than in the building. They might force their way inside if I opened the door.

  I turned around, not sure what to do or say. But what choice did I have?

  “You’re Les’s roommate?” one of the guys asked. His eyes roamed over my body, the slow and torturous gaze of a man mentally undressing me.

  Les? Ohh, Leslie. “Who are you?” I asked instead, hating how my voice quavered.

  The other guy, whose face looked like he’d been pummeled recently, started to ascend the stairs, which caused me to take an immediate step back. But there was nowhere to go, and my body pressed against the door. “We need to talk to you, love,” the guy said in a soft voice as if he was a friend of mine.

  Yeah, sure. Did he think sugary words would get me to open the door? I might be from a small town, but I wasn’t that naïve. “Please leave.”

  “I’m afraid we can’t do that.” The man was now on the same level as me, and his face was inches from mine. I wasn’t sure where the other guy was—I couldn’t see anything past this hulk’s torso.

  “Let us in.” He propped both arms over my shoulders, his palms pressing to the glass door on each side of me. My mind scrambled as I thought about what to do, and yet, my mouth wasn’t opening. Why wasn’t I screaming?

  “Get the feck away!”

  The back of my head hit the door as I heard Adam’s voice.

  The guy in front of me lowered his arms and turned around. I caught sight of Adam shoving past the guy at the bottom of the steps. He leaped up the steps two by two and grabbed hold of the man near me. He shoved him up against the building.

  I shifted away and tucked myself in the corner.

  “What’re you doing here?” Adam yelled, raising his fist in front of the lecher. The man’s face remained unchanged, even his hands hung loose and casual by his outer thighs. He had no intention of fighting, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. But the entire scene filled me with terror, and I shrank to a squat before them.