Mafia King (Young Irish Rebels #2) - Vi Carter Page 0,76
late for that, Emma.”
She’s stomping towards me, and I can see the anger in her eyes. I place the drink on the bar as she rounds it. Her hand connects with my face. The sting is instant.
I wait for a second slap that doesn’t come. So I pick up my drink and empty its contents.
“You want to take another one?” I ask her through gritted teeth.
I don’t expect it, but she slaps me on the same cheek. The third time, I stop her. Her wrist in my hand would be so easy to crush. “That’s enough.”
“Not even close.” Her anger seems to grow, and I’m tempted to lock her in her room, but I remember how that turned out the last time.
I release her hand and refill my drink before leaving the bar area.
The tape in my pocket feels heavy, and I want to be alone to watch it. I want to see the man who destroyed my family. I want time to think and ponder on how I will track him down and take his life slowly and painfully.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SHAY
Amanda is sitting behind her desk. Head bent. I’ve been watching it the past few minutes, and so far, nothing has transpired apart from her writing in a ledger. I fast-forward it and hit play when the door opens. I can’t see the man’s face as he steps in. He’s tall, and Amanda rises. Words are exchanged, and he slides something across the desk towards her.
Amanda’s face tightens, and she glances up at the man. More words pass, and I curse the position of the camera. If I could see his face, I might be able to read his lips.
I’m zoned in on Amanda’s mouth, trying to see if she says Frankie, me, or my da’s name, but it’s hard to tell what’s being said. The man turns, and I’m sitting closer, hoping this is it, that I’ll get to see his face, but he bends his head, hiding his face from the camera, and leaves.
Amanda is standing behind the desk, and whatever was said has left her shaken. She goes to the cupboard and takes out a bottle of scotch. I sit and watch her drink three glasses before the tape rolls into static. The flickering black and white illuminate the living space, and I’m ready to get up and turn it off when a new image flickers to life. It’s outside the club. The streets are empty. Rain is visible as it blows sideways under the lamp-post. A dark-haired man leaves the building, and by his height and build, I recognize him from Amanda’s office. He keeps his head down like he knows he’s being watched.
“Look up, you fucker.” I don’t blink as he walks closer to the camera.
It’s in the last second, like he heard me, that he looks up.
My heart jumps in my chest, and I hit pause and stand up, staring at the man I don’t recognize. I’ve never seen him before. I return to the bar and pour another drink before returning to the TV. I stare at him, every detail about him, I allow it to sink deep into my brain. The small tear-drop tattoo on his cheek, dark ink rises along his neck, but I can’t make the tattoo out. His hair is shoulder length. His face I will never forget. I finish my drink and salute his image.
I will find him.
“Who’s that?” I pick up the remote and turn the TV off before turning to Emma. She looks different. She’s showered and changed into a pair of light jeans and a white blouse. With her hair tied up, she looks stunning. Her creamy skin looks fresh against the white blouse. Small red curls fall around her face, and her cheeks heat the longer I stare at her.
“You look good.”
Her hands are clasped behind her back, and when she brings them forward, she looks at the purple and white paper bag in her hand.
“I picked something up for you when we were shopping.”
I don’t move. I had left her for a few moments, but I had no clue she had bought anything.
“How did you pay for it?”
Her grin is quick as she steps into the room. “I didn’t.” She bites her red ruby lip, and guilt churns in my stomach. She looks so pure and innocent. She shouldn’t be subjected to this life. Emma deserved someone to take care of her and give her everything she wanted.