Mafia King (Young Irish Rebels #2) - Vi Carter Page 0,30

something.”

“Go fuck yourself, Shay.” Siobhan slams a hand on her hip. So she was still pissed.

“I like your hair.” I lie. She has it cropped to her head like a fucking choir boy. She’s still stunning to look at, but under all that, there really isn’t much.

“What are you doing here?” Siobhan questions.

“My house, my rules,” Michelle reminds her, and Siobhan’s defensive stance drops. Her hand slips from her hip, but she doesn’t leave.

“A word, please, Shay?” she says with a bittersweet smile.

“I’m Emily.” Emma appears beside me with an outstretched hand towards Siobhan. I wish she had stayed quiet. Standing beside me in my t-shirt didn’t leave much to the imagination.

Siobhan’s gaze digs into Emma before her bright blue eyes fire back to me. “Outside.” Siobhan leaves, and Emma drops her hand along her side.

Michelle departs with no words. “That went well,” I tell no one as I get my cigarettes and lighter out of my jacket pocket before leaving it on the chest at the end of the bed.

“Is she an ex?” Emma’s trying to hold back emotions that find their way into her words and brighten her cheeks.

“I don’t have ex’s.”

“But you were something?”

I don’t have to explain myself to anyone. “Not to me,” I answer. “Get some rest.” I close the door behind me and meet Siobhan’s sharp eye. She’s not going to give me a second before she starts.

“You’re a fucking wanker, Shay.” She starts.

I light a cigarette and lean against the wall. I’ll give her until I finish my cigarette to get it all off her very perky chest. After that, she can fuck right off like the rest of them.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EMMA

The clothes Michelle left for me look a bit tight, but I’m not fussy. I’m ready to change into the black jeans when Siobhan’s loud voice has me stepping towards the door. My heart won’t slow down the closer I get, and my blood starts to slowly boil at the words she is firing at Shay like he is hers and not mine.

“You could have called. You could have gotten word to me that you were okay.”

I step closer to the door, expecting Shay’s response to explain to me what she was talking about.

“I could have done a lot of things. I do what I want, Siobhan. I don’t answer to you or any other woman.” It sounds like he’s smoking.

“Who’s she? Another victim?” Siobhan’s closer to the door, and I’m picturing her getting close to Shay. My hands tighten into fists, and I hate the reaction I’m having.

Siobhan is beautiful in the most natural way. She’s tall and far more suited to Shay than me. Standing beside Siobhan, I’d look a mess. Everything about her is neat and put together.

“She’s a friend I’m helping out,” Shay answers.

Siobhan’s laughter fills the hall. “You don’t have any friends.”

It sounds like Shay is smoking again. His voice is further away this time, but I hear his words very clearly. They sink deep inside me, and I’m ready to open the door.

“What do you want, Siobhan. You want to suck my cock?”

“I hope it fucking falls off.” Siobhan’s words are still angry but grow distant.

“Don’t be like that.” Laughter in Shay’s voice would piss me off, but I don’t hear a response from Siobhan, so she must have left. She’s a far stronger person than I would have been.

I return to the bed and put on the clean clothes that Michelle left for me. The black running shoes are a bit big, but it feels good not to be standing in just a t-shirt. I fold and place the shirt under my pillow. I straighten the green jumper and lie on the bed. I don’t get under the covers. It’s weird being in someone else’s bed beside my own, but anything is better than the hard wooden wardrobe floor that I had spent last night on.

After a lot of tossing and turning, I get up. I had expected Shay to return, but he still hadn’t. I convince myself that I’m only getting up because I can’t sleep. It’s not the thought of him with Siobhan that drives me out of the room.

The hall is cast in shadows, and the slates under the runners have recently been swept. Light from the kitchen draws me in. Michelle is still there.

“Don’t you sleep?” I ask.

She gives me a half-smile. “You should be sleeping.” She returns to a large beige bowl. Her hands sink into the dough as she kneads