Blowback (3 page)

“It’s about goddamn time,” he said with a hint of an Irish accent, slapping me on the back of the head. “Meet me in my office. We’ve got some planning to do, son.”

“I’m on it,” I said, running my hand through my hair that really had no rhyme or reason to it.

He slammed the door behind him as he left, and I wished I could just get on my Harley and ride as far away as I could without ever looking back, but I couldn’t. There was no other way of life for me.

I stood and slipped into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt before heading to the bathroom for a quick piss. It would more than likely be the only time I’d have to myself all day, so I took a moment to enjoy the silence… Well, you know, as silent as it can be when one takes a morning piss.

I glanced in the mirror after washing my hands a few minutes later and ran my wet fingers through my hair, trying to smooth it down, but it didn’t really help. It would have to do because that was all the effort I could muster. Why try when you know it’s probably just going to get all fucked up anyway?

Who the miserable bastard was this time, I didn’t know. Didn’t really care either. It was better that way. If I kept them anonymous and only judged them based on their affiliation with my old man, then a little part of me could hold onto being a decent human being, even though deep down, I knew I wasn’t. Reality was no matter how much I tried to marginalize my actions, I wasn’t a good person and probably never would be. At some point in my life, if I couldn’t manage to get away, I was destined to take over Niall’s empire when he was ready to give it up or ended up dead, whether I liked it or not. In the meantime, I was his enforcer. Violence had been my occupation since I was eighteen, and as much as I wanted to convince myself that I would walk away if I could, I got a rush when I faced my opponents down at the warehouse. Maybe in a different life, I could’ve been a professional boxer or a mixed martial arts fighter, but in this one, I was a straight-up ass beater, and it suited me just fine.

I made my way to the back of the house to the large mahogany double doors. Taking a deep breath, I opened one and stepped into Niall’s office. The room was lit with only two floor lamps, giving it a foreboding feel that was way too appropriate for the things that took place there. He sat like a king at the head of a large table with four chairs on both sides and a chair at the other end. A bleached-blonde woman sat beside him, practically wringing her hands as she looked down at the table. Her eyes rose to meet mine and brightened once she recognized me.

“Sit down,” he said.

I did as I was told, but took a seat beside him instead of at my usual spot at the other end of the table. The sooner I could get out of there, the better.

“This is Jerney.”

I nodded at her like I’d never seen her before in my life. Truth was, I’d fucked her not three weeks before during a drunken one-night stand, but her name was Christina when I met her. The last time I’d seen her, she didn’t have bruises under her eyes or a split lip, and I had no idea what her chosen profession was then. Thank fuck I always used a condom.

“She’s new, and some shithead roughed her up last night. Need you to pick him up,” he said, pushing a tablet toward me. A picture of Jerney and a man who looked vaguely familiar stared back at me from the page. I couldn’t quite place where I’d seen him before, but I’d definitely seen him somewhere along the way. I couldn’t tell much about his build from the picture, but I didn’t think he’d be much of a problem for me. They were rarely a threat since I’d been professionally trained to fight and most of them weren’t.

“Tell me what he did to you, sweetheart.”

“He’s just a monster. His name is—”

“No names,” Niall snapped. “He doesn’t like names.”

Her lip trembled for a quick second before she spoke again. “He cut my body up and then punched me in the face a couple times,” she said with a hitch in her voice. She tried to run her fingers through her tangled hair as she continued, “I passed out, and I don’t know what else he did to me.” A fat teardrop slid down her cheek. Her hand rose to wipe it away just before it dripped off her chin. “He kicked me out of his house this morning and didn’t even pay me.” Her voice cracked as the tears ran from her eyes.

And this was why I was able to rationalize what I did for my old man. Yeah, she was a prostitute, but it didn’t mean she deserved to be beaten and more than likely raped. These were the type of men I faced when I fought. The kind of men who murdered in cold blood. The kind of men who treated women like they were punching bags or their own personal sex dolls to do with as they pleased with no regard to consent.

“I trust you’ll grab this one by the end of the day,” Niall said as he wrote down an address on a piece of paper and pushed it toward me. “Before he has time to forget what the fuck he did to
my
property. I’ll get Richie to set the warehouse for tomorrow night if you get him in time. Call Flint when you get an eye on him. He’ll bring the van.”

“I’m on it,” I said, standing up. “Walk you out?” I asked Jerney as she wiped at her nose with a tissue my old man had tossed at her a few seconds before. I wasn’t sticking around long enough for her to let it slip in front of him that I already knew her.

She instinctively looked over at Niall before moving an inch. Once he gave her the nod, she stood and made her way over to me. She wore a barely there black dress that had been torn up, exposing the cuts and scrapes that decorated her skin. She was waif thin, and if I had to guess, she was a user of one of Niall’s other products. If I hadn’t been drunk as fuck the night we’d hooked up, I doubt I would’ve looked twice at her. It wasn’t in my best interest to fuck with one of his girls or his product, and he’d never buy that I didn’t know who or what she was if he found out what I’d done.

She followed me through the doors and down the hallway to the large, open living room where I abruptly stopped.

“Hold up a sec,” I said. “Wait right here.”

Taking two steps at a time, I headed upstairs and opened the door to my baby sister’s room. Georgia was the reason I couldn’t just up and leave like I’d thought about doing every time I woke up from one of those dreams. Niall had never laid a hand on her, but it was only because he knew I’d kill him if he did. And at the same time, he knew I’d do whatever he wanted me to do in order to keep her safe from his abuse even one time. I never tried to fool myself into believing he gave a shit about either one of us. If he had to hurt or kill her to prove a point to me, he would. No doubt in my mind.

I didn’t want her to ever experience the things I went through during my life. Never wanted her to know exactly what it was I did for our father either. She was far too young to understand or comprehend why I did the things I did, and a part of me knew she’d be terrified if she found out some of the things I’d done. If I thought I could take her and just go, I would have done it in a heartbeat, but he’d have me arrested for kidnapping, or worse, kill me or her for turning on him. Either way, I couldn’t and wouldn’t risk being separated from her. I was the only true father figure she’d ever had.

I still remember the day he brought her home. I was seventeen and had a bad reputation due to some unsavory rumors spread about me. I worshipped Satan. I was a huge drug addict. I’d killed someone at my old school. None of it true, but in any case, very few ever picked a fight with Jet Flanagan. Except that day some dipshit thought it was a good idea to prove himself to his little buddy by saying some shitty things to my then girlfriend, Evie Adams—the subject of my recurring nightmare. Too bad he didn’t realize I was within earshot, and well, let’s just say his mouth started something his ass couldn’t handle, and I never had another problem from the kid. Neither did she as far as I knew. I sometimes think my willingness to beat someone’s ass to resolve a problem was why Niall put me to work the way he did, why he came up with using me to punish those who went against him.

I busted my hand up in that fight and was sitting at the kitchen table holding a bag of ice on my knuckles, angry at the world because I expected to see Evie smiling at me when I was finished. After all, I’d defended her and had only done what most guys would do to keep those they love safe. What I found instead was fear and confusion.

Niall, holding the hand of a two-year-old little girl with dark curls, chubby cheeks, and the biggest brown eyes I’d ever seen, came through the back door as I sat there stewing.

He tipped his chin up and asked, “You come out on top?”

“Yeah,” I said and took the ice off my hand to look at the damage I’d done. I’d won the fight, but maybe I’d lost the girl in the process, so did that really make me a winner? I didn’t think so.

He said, “That’s my boy,” and sat down across from me at the table.

I looked at the little girl like she was an alien. Who was she and why in the hell was she with him? Why was she in my house, and when was she leaving? I figured she was the kid of his latest fling, but it was rare for him to take on any kind of responsibility for a kid who didn’t belong to him. Hell, he didn’t even take much responsibility for me and I was his flesh and blood.

“This is your sister, Georgia. Her mother’s a junkie. Ended up stealing smack from the wrong person and got a bullet to the back of her head. You’re gonna have to help me take care of her,” he said. “She’s moving in permanently.”

Instead of saying I’d have to help him, what he should have said was that I had to be her sole caretaker. Building his empire and working his way up the local crime lord ladder was far more important than taking care of a child. I knew this firsthand.

I looked at her, wanting to hate her and the responsibility that’d been dumped on me. I wanted to loathe her so it’d be easier for me to make the break from Niall I’d been planning for when I hit eighteen, but her little mouth curled up into a smile that left me nothing more than a messy puddle on the floor. Something in me grew and, from then on, I knew I’d be the only protector she’d ever have. And here I was almost a decade later, playing by Niall’s rules to do just that.

Ducking into Georgia’s room, I caught her dancing around while listening to some bubblegum pop music. I envied her at times and the carefree life she lived, though I was quick to stifle it. It was only because of me that she could be that normal kid without worrying that she was going to get the shit knocked out of her at every turn. It wasn’t her fault I hadn’t been so lucky.

“When are you gonna start listening to
real
music instead of this crap?” I asked, folding my arms in front of me. A grin spread across my face.

Her back stiffened as she whirled around to face me. “You scared me half to death,” she shrieked and placed her hand over her heart. “And there is nothing wrong with what I listen to. We don’t all like grungy-looking singers you can’t understand.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” I said, looking around at the posters lining her walls. A picture of every baby-faced pop star you could think of could be found hanging somewhere in that room. I could only imagine the day her tastes would change, and she’d drag home some asshole like me. God help the both of them… “You got any sweatpants or leggings you don’t want anymore? Maybe a shirt?”

“Um, maybe… Why?”

“One of the girls needs something to wear. She’s in bad shape.” Just how much Georgia knew about the family business was a mystery to me. I didn’t discuss it with her, and she never asked questions. I preferred it that way. The less she knew, the better, and if she didn’t question Niall, she wouldn’t get the answer I’d grown accustomed to while growing up.

She crossed the room to her closet and opened it. After rummaging through it for a few seconds, she produced a pair of black yoga pants and a red T-shirt.

“I don’t really like these. I was going to get rid of them anyway.”

“Thanks, chipmunk,” I said.

Her mouth straightened, and she rolled her eyes at me in typical adolescent fashion. Somewhere around her tenth birthday she started pretending to hate the nickname I’d given to her all those years before, claiming she no longer had chubby cheeks. And to be fair, she didn’t, but she would always be that sweet little girl with the big brown eyes and the chipmunk cheeks to me. Too bad she couldn’t hide the smile creeping over her lips almost every time she heard me say it.

“Yeah, no problem.”

I left her to her teen idols and returned with the clothes to Jerney, who now sat on the couch with her forehead resting in her hands.

“Here… put these on.”

“Thanks,” she said with a sniffle, taking the clothes from me. She peeled the dress from her body, exposing more and more bruised flesh as she went. It was only a few seconds before she was in my sister’s clothes and following me out the door.

“Hey,” she said. Her fingers slid between mine as she grasped my hand.

“Yeah?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder at her and hoping Niall wasn’t near. The sunlight highlighted just how much damage had been done to her face. She’d been worked over by a real sick fuck. Someone who got pleasure out of it. I’d beaten dudes nearly to death before down at the warehouse and not caused that much damage to their face.

“You got any plans after you’re done being my knight in shining armor?” Her tongue graced her very swollen bottom lip. A small drop of saliva glistened at the corner of her mouth.

I looked at her for a second before pulling my hand away from hers. “Maybe, maybe not. It could be a quick one, but it probably won’t be.”

“Why don’t you give me a call when you’re done? We can pick up where we left off a few weeks ago. Get some coffee. Chat. See where things go.”

See where things go.
No, thanks. I had no issue with women selling themselves to make a buck. It was their body to do with as they pleased and all that, but I wasn’t looking to get serious with one either. I wasn’t looking to get serious with anyone really. There’d only ever been one girl I wanted to spend my life with, but I’d left her behind years ago for her own good. I thought about her less and less to ease the pain as time went on, but she still turned up in my dreams looking just the same as she did back in high school.