Chapter 10
Amy
I sat in my hotel room, looking out of the window. Beyond there was a small patch of thick woodland, rising slowly up in the distance as the hills grew into mountains. I used to love the outdoors; the crisp smell of the clear morning air, the wildlife; the beautiful pristine lakes and rushing rivers.
I thought back to school trips we'd take into the woods, staying in cabins and going boating and hiking every day. It was a tradition among the schools in Branton to go up into the mountains for week long trips during the summer, and I always loved every minute. I guess part of it was getting away from my suffocating life living in my dad's mansion, like I was a bird being set free from its cage.
A smile hit my face as I peered over the wilderness, a wide open expanse on the edge of the city. For the first time since I'd returned it actually felt good to be back home. I'd seen beautiful sights all over the country: long beaches, incredible cities, wide, open plains and dusty deserts. But there was nothing that struck at my soul like the vision of mountains and the sound of rushing water. The purity of it all, the natural beauty; it was all so comforting.
My motel wasn't the sort of place I usually stayed at either, and there was something comforting about that too. It was rustic and basic, a cabin set on the side of the road. It wasn't flash or set up high on the tenth floor with wide views over the Las Vegas strip. No, I could almost touch the trees from my window, smell the clear, pure, air as it came flowing down from the mountains.
There was another reason I was smiling, though, and it wasn't just because of the natural beauty in front of me. No, I was smiling because, for the first time in years, I'd actually spent time with my dad and enjoyed it.
After meeting him in the restaurant, I'd made a commitment to really try and work through my own issues. He was doing his part, saying and doing all of the right things to try to get me to stay. So it was really down to me now to try to see him as my father, who loved me, rather than this mobster who's life I resented, and who's actions had eventually led to my mother's death.
We spent an entire day together, walking outside of the city through the woods and enjoying a show in town at night. They were the sorts of things we used to do when I was a little girl, before I truly began to understand what his life really was, what his work really entailed. We reminisced as we went, and he began to finally take an interest in my life, my travels, and even my successes at the poker table.
As we spoke it truly began to settle in my mind that all he wanted for me was to be separated from the world he lived in. That's why he never wanted me playing poker, that's why he wanted me to go to college, probably somewhere far away. His absence in my life as I grew wasn't because he didn't love me, but because he was protecting me. All he ever wanted was me to be safe. I guess it just manifested itself in the wrong way when I was growing up.
I began to see him in an entirely different light. For years I'd resented him for just being a mobster, for causing pain and suffering and taking advantage of people. I'd focused all of my anger on his seedy side, but he was a lot more than that. He was a respected businessman, a man who gave millions to charity, a man who supported local groups and was a prominent figure in helping to shape the future of the city.
Above all, though, he was a man who loved his daughter, a man who'd suffered for years at her absence. His wife had been killed, and all I ever did was blame him for it, and then run away. I'd been insular, self-righteous, and selfish. I had never considered his point of view, running off like a child.
Now, though, I was starting to see how my behavior had affected him, how I wasn't a completely innocent party in all of this. I'd never agree with my father's criminal endeavors, but that didn't mean I couldn't still see him in his primary role – as my dad.
So that's why I decided to stay, for a while at least. I made the decision to stick around, to meet regularly with him and go from there. I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know whether I'd stay for a week, a month, or more.
All I knew was that I had to try. I wanted to try.
But, now that I'd made the decision, there was something else I wanted as well. Maybe, just maybe, there was another reason to stay.
I stood from the stool by the window and walked out through the door. My hire car sat in a parking space just outside, its tires caked with mud from a recent trip out into the woods. I stepped in and gunned the engine, reversing out and pulling onto the wide road looking down the sloped hill into the city.
It was late afternoon now, the sun beginning to fall down behind the peaks in the distance, turning the sky a beautiful shade of orange. The sight made me smile again, but it was the thought of someone else that caused my heart to start beating just that little bit faster.
….
I pulled up outside the underground poker club and peered down the alley. The light was fading fast now, the night sky growing darker up above, as I strained my eyes to see into the darkness beyond.
There was no one outside, the alley deserted and quiet. I opened the door of the car and stepped out, walking forward towards the large metal door half way down the gap between the buildings. I felt my pulse rise quickly as I went, not sure what I'd say.
I doubted myself as I raised my hand to knock on the door, pausing briefly with my closed fist dangling awkwardly in front of me. Would he even want to see me after the way I'd acted?
Without letting my thoughts deter me I flicked my wrist and my knuckles bounced lightly against the metal three times. The sound echoed down the alley, disturbing the quiet night.
I waited, as I had the first time I'd come here, until I heard footsteps coming up towards me. My pulse quickened further as I started breathing more heavily. I calmed myself quickly as I heard the scraping of metal, the handle turning, and the door slowly creaking open.
A face appeared in front of me as it had before, the same face towering above me.
“It's you again,” the man said. “Amy, right?”
I nodded.
“You here to play again?”
I shook my head. “I'd like to see the manager please.”
His face stayed blank. “He's not here.”
“Well where is he?” I asked quickly.
He stared at me for a second. “Why do you want to know?”
“That's none of your business.”
“Well, actually it is my business miss. My boss' safety is my primary concern.”
Damn, this guy was loyal.
“Safety!” I said, almost laughing. “Do you really think a little girl like me is dangerous! Look, if you want me to spell it out for you, I will. We had a thing going on, OK. I just want to speak to him.”
He still looked at me through suspicious eyes. “He runs a bar called Sparks, it's on Broadstreet in the center of town. He'll be there for a little while I'd imagine.”
“Thanks for telling me. He's lucky to have a guard as loyal as you.”
His face refused to give up a smile as he pulled the door shut again with a metallic thud. Jeez, that guy needs to lighten up.
I turned back to my car and started off towards the center of town. I vaguely remembered he'd told me he ran a bar when I first met him. I'd passed it off as yet another lie, another part of his fake character, but clearly he'd let that truth slip.
So, he was 21 and ran a major bar on Broadstreet, as well as an underground poker club. Jesus Christ this guy was driven. In a way, he reminded me of my father.
The traffic grew thicker and more intense as I progressed into the center of town. Broadstreet, as I knew, was the central hub for entertainment in the city. In fact, I'd been there only a couple of days before with dad as we went to see a show.
It was full of bright lights and was almost always busy, day and night. The theatres and finer restaurants were down one end, with the louder bars and clubs at the other, pumping out loud music all through the night. Sparks, though, was a name I didn't recognize. When I used to live here, it wasn't the sort of place I'd go to.
I went straight for a parking lot a couple of streets down and parked my car. I sat there for a moment and pulled out my phone, before typing 'Sparks' straight into my browser. I loaded up the map to see that it was situated about halfway down the street.
It only took me a few minutes to get there, despite the growing crowds of people rushing up and down the street as I got closer.
The bar itself looked flash, with a short VIP queue on one side, and a longer queue on the other. I approached the bouncer at the front, who stood guarding a young woman holding a clipboard.
The bouncer held his hand out in front of me, his mighty digits blocking my path.
“Are you on the list?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No, I'm just here to see the manager.”
“You're going to have to join the queue,” he said, as if he didn't even hear what I said.
“Can I just go in to see the manager please?”
“Sorry miss, please join the queue to your right if you're not on the list.”
He looked away from me dismissively as I turned to the right and saw that the regular queue was unmoving and growing by the second.
“Look,” I said, “do you have any idea who I am?” I turned on my serious tone, making my voice sound as indignant as possible.
He shook his head casually, hardly registering that I was still there.
“You know of Conor O'Brien right?” I asked, still staring up at his wide face above me.
He eyes fell onto mine. “Yes.” He sounded slightly more interested now.
“Well I'm his daughter. I don't think he'd like it if he knew you were talking to me like this.”
“Bullshit,” he said. “Yeah, I've heard all this before. You'd be amazed at how many President's daughters and actor's daughters and foreign royalty we get down here. You students are all the same, pulling these pranks. Now miss, please join the....”
I cut him short as I pulled a picture from my purse, one of me and my father on my phone, taken only a couple of days before.
“Do you want to see my I.D. as well? I've got my driver's license with me here, look.”
I pulled that out as well, clearly showing my name as Amy O'Brien.
I watched on as he took it in, feeling like a total and utter hypocrite. I mean, I was using my father's feared reputation to get quick entry into a bar. It was a pretty low point for me.
“Oh, miss O'Brien,” he said, “I apologize. Please, go straight through.”
He turned and gestured to the bouncer behind to move the rope to let me through, and I walked straight in, still feeling a little dirty.
Inside the place was plush, with a long bar lined up against the right hand wall, It was black, but topped with what seemed to be white marble. Next to it was a walkway leading up towards a VIP area, a step up and closed off with heavy deep red curtains. To the left was a fair amount of seating, with black tables and chairs littered around the room and comfortable booths set up against the wall.
The place was filled with smart looking people wearing jackets and dresses, all sitting in comfortable chairs, sipping champagne and wine and expensive cocktails.
I moved forward towards the bar and found a gap between a couple of men waiting for their drinks. A barman came towards me, dressed in a white shirt and black waistcoat.
“Yes miss, what would you like?” he asked clearly over the music.
“Nothing, I'm just here to see the manager. Can you tell me where he is please?”
“Sorry, he's not available right now.”
“But is he here?”
“He doesn't want to be disturbed miss.”
What the f*ck was the deal with the people here! Did they get paid extra for being dismissive and rude or something?!
Before I had a chance to say anything more he'd turned away and was serving someone else.
Screw this.
I looked around the bar again, scanning for an exit. At the end of the bar I saw a door and walked towards it. I hovered for a second, my eyes lingering on the barman who was furiously shaking a cocktail mixer, before stepping straight through into a quiet corridor.
The door shut behind me and the noise of the bar was quickly cut off, becoming only a dull thud in the background. I looked down the corridor to see a door at the end, so moved towards it.
I grabbed the handle and slowly turned it, opening it slowly to hear the sound of light music inside. Then, causing me to jump, was a familiar voice.
“Craig, I told you I wanted some peace for five f*cking minutes.”
When the door fell open, however, and he saw that it was me, his voice fell quickly and his mouth with it.
“Amy...what the hell are you doing here?!”
I hadn't had a chance to ask myself the same question.
I walked in and shut the door behind me as he stood up behind his desk.
“I wanted to talk to you Jude,” I said. “I wanted to see you.”
I smiled and expected him to do the same, to be happy to see me, but he didn't. His face stayed in this stage of shock and confusion.
“So you really do own a bar,” I said. “You weren't lying about that then?” I said it lightly, but he didn't lighten up.
“What are you doing here?” he asked again. “I thought you were leaving town?”
I walked forward towards him.
“I decided to stay for a bit. I felt bad for the way I acted before.”
“Stay?” he said quickly. “For how long?”
A smile crept onto my face. “I don't know, weeks, maybe longer.”
I kept moving forward, walking round his desk and coming closer to him.
“I'd like to spend some time with you while I'm around Jude. I dunno, maybe we could get to know each other properly?” I had a hopeful tone to my voice, but his reaction wasn't what I'd have wanted.
I was close to him now, close enough to smell his aftershave, close enough to see the shape of his pecs under his shirt. I wanted to reach out and grab him, drag him in and kiss him, but something held me back. It was the look on his face.
“You shouldn't be here,” he said, his voice colder than I'd heard it before. It was like the fire in him had gone out, like his exuberant spirit had been extinguished.
He stepped back slightly from me, widening the gap between us. He looked conflicted, like he was holding back. I stepped forward again but he gravitated away, like an opposing magnet being pushed back by another.
“I think you should go Amy,” he said, not looking me in the eye. “What happened with us was a mistake.”
His words cut at me. I barely knew him but they hurt.
“Look, I'm sorry for how I was before. It's just my reaction, to not let anyone in. I just thought that maybe we could go on a date, you know. I do....like you Jude.” I felt vulnerable as I spoke, opening myself up more than I had in a long time.
His eyes stayed away from me, but flicked back briefly. I noticed this divide inside him, like he was battling something.
I couldn't help it when a tear began to slowly form in the corner of my eye, and trickle down my cheek. His eyes found mine again, drawn back in. They softened at the sight and he stepped forward again, raising his hand to brush the tear away.
The touch of his hand to my cheek was soft and tender, his eyes now growing the same. His voice was a whisper when he next spoke.
“I'm happy you're staying Amy, but nothing can happen with us now, no matter what I want.”
I couldn't decipher his words. They were cryptic.
“Please,” he continued, his voice so quiet, “just go.”
Another tear rolled from my eye as he turned away and sat down, turning away from me again.
I walked to the door, turning back before I left. He held his eyes down again, his face pained, staring at his desk and refusing to look up.
“Bye Jude,” I said, opening the door and walking out into the corridor.
A feeling to run hit me again. Suddenly, despite what was happening with my dad, the city of Branton felt cold and empty to me once more.
….
Jude
I looked up as I heard the door shut.
I felt like shit, absolute f*cking shit.
When she'd walked in I'd had to fight the urge to grab her right there. I was like a crack addict being offered crack, and having to turn it down.
I wanted her lips on mine. I wanted to rush my fingers through her hair and my hands up her body. I wanted to throw everything to the floor and lie her down on my desk. I wanted to strip her bare and take her right there in my office.
But I also wanted to just talk to her. I wanted to go to dinner and tell her about the real me, tell her who I really was. I knew who she was now, but she didn't know me. Or maybe she did? Maybe that's how she found me here?
But I couldn't do any of that. I couldn't see her, talk to her, even be near her. Not with her dad breathing down my neck. Not with Crash warning me off. There was too much at stake, too much for me to lose.
I looked at the door now as it lightly closed shut. I felt an urge to stand up and run after her, tell her the truth, tell her why I was being like this. But I didn't. I just sat there and stared at the blank door, imagining her walking away, tears rolling down her face.
I'd been in this situation before, but never like this. I'd had women walking away from me in tears after being told I couldn't see them. I'd seen them cry and never cared. In a weird, perverse, kind of way, it usually made me feel good, like I was a player, God's gift to women, someone the girls would fall for after one date.
But this time, I didn't feel like that. This time, I actually cared for the girl. She was the one girl I wanted and the one girl I wasn't allowed to have. She was like the forbidden fruit, tempting me, drawing me closer. But I knew exactly what would happen if I ate that fruit. It was a path I wasn't willing to take.
I sent a shot of vodka down my throat, the liquid burning as it slid down into my body. I sent another, the sensation less intense this time, and another soon after.
I needed to get out of this office, I needed a change of scenery.
I stood up, the alcohol relaxing me, and walked out through the bar. It wasn't a busy night and didn't need my attention.
“I'm going out,” I said to Craig, my head bartender. “Call me if you've got a problem.”
I kept moving through, the eyes of girls on me as I went. I didn't care for them, not tonight.
The air was refreshing as I stepped out onto the street.
“Everything OK boss?” asked one of my bouncers.
I nodded and kept going, walking off down a side street off Broadstreet where my car was parked.
I got inside and gunned the engine, setting my sights towards the other side of town. The traffic was lighter as I drove, and grew even thinner as I moved away from the center.
As the cars thinned I began to notice one following. It was a black saloon with blacked out windows, smoothly gliding along in my wake.
I kept my eyes on it as I continued onwards, eventually lurching up the street towards my poker club and coming to a halt outside. The car kept coming, skidding in behind me.
I stepped quickly from the car and started up the alley towards the club. I could hear doors opening and closing quickly behind me as I went, and turned to see two men in black suits running towards me.
I instinctively raised my arms up for a fight as one of them came straight at me, his fist crashing into my defending arms. Then the other one was on me as I stepped back towards the door, reaching out to knock on it as hard as I could.
I managed a single knock before one of the men grabbed my arm and pulled it away, the other sending his fist clattering into my jaw. I crumpled to the deck as they both continued to kick and punch me on the ground, the breath in my lungs lost.
I was gasping for air as their fists and feet abated, my body curled up in a defensive position.
“Mr O'Brien told you not to see his daughter again,” one of the men spoke, his voice deep and heavy. “This is a message to stay the f*ck away.”
He sent a final kick to my midsection and I heard the door open behind me.
“Boss,” came Zig's voice as the men looked up at the man mountain ahead of them. They turned quickly and ran back down the alley towards their car, Zig jumping over my body and charging like a raging bull after them.
All I could see was his fist flying through the driver's window as the car lurched off. Zig followed, bellowing loudly, but soon gave up the chase. He quickly turned and lumbered back towards me, just as the world began fading into darkness.
….
My eyes slowly opened as I lay slumped on the floor down in the poker club. My vision cleared to reveal Zig holding a washcloth full of ice to my head.
“Jude,” he said, “are you OK?”
I leaned up painfully and sat against the wall, taking the cloth off him.
“Yeah I'm fine,” I groaned, “I've had worse beatings than that.”
The door to the kitchen opened and King walked in with a glass of whiskey.
“Get that down you son,” he said, handing me the full glass.
I took a gulp and struggled to my feet, Zig supporting me.
“I sent the players home,” said Zig, glancing over at the table, now sitting empty. “King's checked you over and there's no broken bones,” he continued, sitting me down in one of the poker seats.
I looked up at King, who sat down in front of me with his own glass of whiskey in hand. “I used to be a doctor Jude, so you're in good hands.”
My head was still swimming slightly, a dull ache throbbing inside it.
“So who were those guys?” asked King. “Do they not know who the hell you are?”
I huffed slightly. “They know who I am, that's the point.”
“So who were they?”
“O'Brien's men,” I said blankly, wincing as I touched the iced cloth to my bruised cheek.
King's face changed quickly. “Jesus, Jude, what sort of trouble have you got yourself into?!”
I shook my head. “I f*cked his daughter. He warned me off. Nothing major.”
“Jude, if Conor O'Brien tells you to do something, or not to do something in this case, you f*cking do what he says! What were you thinking!”
“I didn't do anything. She came down to the bar tonight and I told her I couldn't see her. I guess he must have had men watching her or something. I mean, how the f*ck can I control that!”
“Jesus f*cking Christ.”
I nodded, taking another gulp of whiskey.
“Did you get a good hit in?” I said, looking up at Zig. “Jesus, your arm!”
There was blood streaming from it, deep cuts running up his left forearm. “Zig, you need stitches on that.”
“I needed to make sure you were OK first.”
The guy was as loyal as a labrador. “Zig, you deserve a f*cking pay rise. Now seriously, you've gotta get to the hospital ASAP. King, do you mind?”
King stood up quickly and slammed his empty glass to the table. “Of course, Jude, no problem. Are you sure you'll be OK? They won't come back, will they?”
I shook my head. “Just get him to the hospital will you, I'll be fine.”
I knew they wouldn't come back. I knew that this was O'Brien's way of making sure I knew he was serious.
It also confirmed something else for me. He really, truly, hated this f*cking family.