Chapter 11
Amy
“Darling, what's the matter with you? You seem, I don't know, distant.”
I sat with my father at a restaurant by the river. I could feel the presence of his guards lingering in the distance, but he'd learned to make sure they were out of sight. At the moment, it wasn't them on my mind.
“It's nothing dad,” I said. “Nothing to worry you, anyway.”
“Honey, anything that worries you, worries me, OK. You can talk to me. I know it's not like talking to your mother, but I'll do the best I can.”
“Seriously, it's nothing.”
“Amy, come on, no secrets between us, isn't that what we agreed?”
We had. If we were to rebuild our relationship we'd need to be honest with how we felt and I needed to tell him when I had any problems and issues with what he did. It was all about getting things out in the open. I don't know if he'd been seeing some sort of councillor or something, but he certainly had a few ideas that I doubt he'd have come up with on his own.
“Yeah, I know dad, but this isn't about you and me or your work or anything like that.”
He leaned back, his face showing that perhaps he'd bitten off more than he could chew.
“OK,” he said, “if it's too personal, say no more.”
He probably thought it was women trouble of some kind that he really didn't want to know about. I guess, in a way, it was, and wouldn't be of any interest to him.
I hadn't realized that it was so obvious on my face, though. I'd been thinking about Jude for days now, unable to shift him from my mind. I wanted to, and I thought he deserved to the way he'd treated me, but still, I just couldn't budge that image of him from my head.
I don't know what had changed either. When I'd walked out on him that morning in the hotel, I liked him, but didn't care whether I thought I'd see him again or not. I felt like that because I believed, deep down, that I wouldn't be staying. I was in control of my feelings, just like I was in control at the poker table.
When I saw him the other day, however, I felt as though I'd just gone 'all in' with a hand, expecting to win, only to bust out and lose all my money. Only, this was 100 times worse.
I felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest when I walked away. I'd let him in, and he'd cut me down. It was a mistake that I hadn't made in years, and one I didn't intend on making again.
If he didn't want to see me, screw him. I didn't need a boyfriend anyway. My life was on the road, seeing new places, meeting new people. It was exciting, varied, and full of new experiences. Why the hell would I want my feelings ruining that? Why would I want to interfere with that in any way?
Sure, I was back here for now, but I wasn't going to stay, not forever. I needed to work, and for that, I needed to travel. To add insult to serious f*cking emotional injury, the only major casino in town was clearly a place he went to all the time. It was essentially my office, my place of work, where I made my money. But if ever I walked in there, he might be there, sat at the high rollers table, probably flirting with some blonde bimbo barmaid.
Well, screw him, he's not going to keep me from earning. I'll steer clear of his damn poker club, but I'm not missing out on the casino as well. No, that's my office, not his.
“It really is nothing dad, nothing important,” I said, turning my attention back to the conversation.
“Well if you're sure honey. If I've done anything, you will let me know, won't you?”
“Of course. Open mouth, open mind,” I said. It was a mantra he'd taught me. It basically meant, if you've got something to say, say it, but have an open mind about things at the same time. In other words, be honest, but not judgemental.
He smiled and sunk the remainder of his whiskey, before checking his watch. “I hate to do this honey, but I've got an important meeting coming up. We'll catch up next week?”
I nodded. “Definitely.”
He stood up and leaned down to me, giving me a kiss on the forehead. “OK darling, I'll speak to you later. Here, that should cover lunch.” He dropped a few notes onto the table and darted off. It was way more than we'd had. It reminded me of Jude when he took me for dinner the night I met him. He'd done the exact same thing.
And there he was, in my head once again.
….
Jude
It was that time of the week again – my weekly business catch up with Crash – and I'd been dreading it.
Any time any of us turned up with a bump or a bruise Crash wouldn't let up until you told him exactly what had happened and who'd done it. He was so perceptive he'd see through you if you lied, so in general you'd almost always spill the truth eventually.
I remember when I was only 16 and I was attacked by these seniors in high school. To be fair, I kinda deserved it for screwing this guy's girlfriend at a party, so didn't really make a big deal out of it when him and his mates gave me a kicking after school.
Crash did, however. When he saw me all battered up he lost it and put the guy in hospital. I guess the guy didn't know who my family was, or else he wouldn't have done it.
And now was the same situation, only the stakes were about a million times higher. It had been a few days since those guys caught me outside my club, and the bruising had barely had any time to go down. I knew if I said I was ill or something he'd just come over to my apartment or make a surprise visit at the bar. So, I guess, I just had to lie.
I knocked on the door to the office and stepped in, all prepped to spout my fable. When his face lifted from the desk to meet mine his eyes went wide and his jaw clenched immediately. Crash had grown up recently, what with his new responsibility with running the family, so wasn't quite such a lunatic as he was before. Yet that version of him was still in there somewhere. It would just take the right nudge to set him off.
He stood immediately when he saw me and rushed round the front of the desk. I tried to keep my head up, as if it was nothing, but I couldn't help but bow slightly as he marched forward, a mixed look of concern and rage in his eyes.
“Who did this to you?” he asked quickly, putting his hand to my chin and inspecting my face. He peered down from his strong 6 foot 3 inch frame, waiting for my answer.
“Just a misunderstanding,” I said, making sure to maintain eye contact with him. If I turned away, he'd know I was lying.
“Over what?” he asked, still inspecting my battered face.
“It was nothing Crash. Some guy thought I was hitting on his girlfriend, you know how it is.”
“OK, and then what happened?”
“Well, I had a few drinks and when I went home, he pounced me with a friend, gave me a few good hits, and that was it. I barely remember it to be honest. No real harm done.”
“Where were you?”
“Huh?”
“The bar? Which bar were you at, and when?”
I expected the Spanish Inquisition, so had my answers ready to roll off my tongue.
“Erm, Rizzo's, Thursday night.”
“Right, and what did these guys look like? Did they have any clue who you were?”
I laughed. “I doubt it, otherwise they probably wouldn't have done anything.”
“And their look?”
“I dunno, normal guys. I barely remember. Look, it's nothing, I've had worse. And, frankly, I was probably being a douche and deserved it.”
“Hmmmm, right.”
He stepped back from me and walked back around his desk to sit down, seemingly satisfied with my story. As always, the whiskey came sliding across the table before he set into asking questions about the bar and how I was getting on.
Frankly, I had nothing to tell him, I rarely did. These 'meetings' were becoming a formality, just something to tick off his list. I don't know why he wasted his time.
“You know Crash, I could probably have just told you how things are going over the phone. Don't you already have enough on your plate to be coming down here every Sunday?”
He sat in his chair, twiddling a pen around his fingers. “No, I like to meet with everyone once a week. It's part of my routine. I don't want things sliding.”
Christ he was so organized now. It never used to be like this. In fact, he was even more businesslike and ambitious than dad had been. Every I and T was dotted, every single detail recorded and made a note of. This guy was shooting for the stratosphere, and he'd take the whole family with him.
“If you remember anything about that,” he said, gesturing to my bruised face, “you tell me straight away. Got it?”
“Sure Crash, sure.”
He left it at that, apparently believing my story. At the end of the day, it was just a beating, and he had a lot bigger fish to fry right now.
I left the office and walked down to the casino floor. It was the middle of the afternoon now, and the place was starting to get busy, casual gamblers flooding in to finish off their weekends with a bang.
I got a few funny looks as I walked around, my face black and blue. I guess people were used to seeing Cade like this, being a boxer and all that, but not me. Not that I was famous around here like Cade was; well, not as famous anyway. Being a Logan, we all had some level of notoriety.
I considered joining a table but put it out of my mind. Frankly, I wasn't in the mood right now. Instead, I headed for the main exit, battling the oncoming crowd as I went.
Just as I was inching towards the door, a face appeared in front of me that I truly didn't expect to see down here.
What the hell was she doing here! Here, or all f*cking places! Didn't she know this was my family's casino?
No, I guess she didn't...
I tried to turn but she caught my eye.
Jesus Christ, I hope her dad's men aren't watching.
….
Amy
I used to love going to the casino on a Sunday. There was something about it being the end of the week that dragged in all these hapless no-hopers. Or maybe it was all in my head, I couldn't tell. All I knew was that Sunday was always a good payday for me, and I wasn't going to let Jude stop me from taking advantage of that.
Anyway, for all I knew he was at his bar or his little underground poker den. It might have been a one-off, him coming here. I mean, the odds of running into him right now must have been slim...
Oh Jesus Christ!
Talk about tempting fate and everything.
I walked straight in and there he was, on the way out. I thought about turning straight back but no, I was drawn by his face. It was wrecked, his cheek heavily bruised, his lip cut, and two large black eyes dominating his face. He looked like he'd been hit by a damn truck.
“Jesus Jude, what happened?” I couldn't hide my concern, despite the way he'd been with me last time.
He looked guiltily at me, his eyes slightly down. I guess he knew he'd been a dick the other night.
“Nothing, I got in a fight.”
He was looking over my shoulder and glancing off to the left and right. He looked unnaturally twitchy.
“With who, Mike Tyson?!”
He laughed lightly, a smile creaking in the corner of his mouth. “Not quite. You should see the other guy though...you think this is bad!”
His face quickly lost its smile again as his eyes twitched once more.
“Hey, I was just leaving. Don't worry, I won't disturb your game like last time.”
He moved forward to pass me but I grabbed at his arm. Maybe it was the two glasses of wine I'd had at lunch, or maybe it was just me, but I wasn't going to let him walk away that easily.
He stopped in his tracks and looked over at me.
“I deserve an explanation for the other night Jude,” I said quietly. “I'm not the sort of girl to treat like that, OK. If you knew my father....”
I saw his eyes change at my words, widening briefly as he glanced again towards the exit.
“Or...you do know my father?” I said. “Has he spoken to you?”
He shook his head. “No, we didn't share second names, remember. I have no idea who your father is.”
His eyes were shifty and distracted. It didn't looked as though he was telling the truth.
“Look Amy, I'd better go, I've got a lot of work on.”
He pulled his arm away from me and made a move to walk forward, but was stopped by a voice sounding behind us.
“Jude, turn around.”
I looked over to see Crash Logan walking at us. I remembered him briefly from years ago. He was the oldest of the Logan boys, and I remembered having a crush on him when I'd met him once.
“Amy O'Brien, right, Conor's daughter?” asked Crash, holding his hand out. “I think we met once, a few years ago, at a charity function of your father's. You probably don't remember.”
I took his hand as Jude turned back to us. I glanced at his face but there was no shock in it that I was Conor O'Brien's daughter.
“I see that you know my brother Jude,” said Crash.
I only put two and two together when Crash said it outright.
Brother....
Jude was a Logan!
“Er, yeah, we've met. I had no idea he was one of you Logans though,” I said, widening my eyes as I looked at Jude, who stayed quiet.
“He's as guilty as all of us,” said Crash. “I understand you left town a while ago? Are you back for good?”
I smiled courteously. “Not for good no, my job keeps me on the road.”
“Oh? What do you do?”
“I'm a professional poker player. I know, not particularly normal for a girl like me.”
“As long as you enjoy it, who's to argue with you.”
He glanced back at Jude, who was still twitching to leave.
“Jude, I've got one more thing I want to talk to you about. Come back up to the office will you, when you're ready.”
He turned back to me and took my hand, kissing it lightly. “Nice to see you again Amy. You're welcome here any time.”
With that he smiled and walked away, once more leaving me alone with Jude.
“So you're a Logan,” I said to him. “That explains a few things.”
He looked directly at me, his eyes steeling. “Like what?”
“Like you being here, like running that flash bar, like having all the money.”
“Yeah, well, you're the daughter of Conor O'Brien, and that explains a few things as well.
“Enlighten me,” I said.
“Well, like you running away for three years for one. I don't blame anyone for running a mile from that psychopath.”
There was real venom in his words, in the way that he spat them out. I looked at him closely, watching memories float across his eyes.
“Look Amy, I don't wanna keep Crash waiting. He's a busy guy.”
I said nothing as he moved past me, and away towards the stairs going up to the gallery.
He was like a different guy to the smiley, fun, charming guy I met only a couple of weeks ago. He'd been all over me, drawing me in like a bee to a flower with his vivacious spirit and lust for my body. He'd followed me to my hotel just to see me again when I left him alone in that hotel room, our attraction to each other overpowering our senses.
But now, now he was completely different. He was stand-offish, he was twitchy and nervous, his face and body had been battered. When Crash mentioned I was Conor O'Brien's daughter there was no surprise in his eyes. No, he already knew that. I didn't know how, but he'd found out, and that was probably what had put him off.
I just hoped, for the sake of my father and our relationship, that's that where things ended.
….
Jude
Jesus f*cking Christ that was awkward. Why the hell did Crash have to come down like that. I could tell he knew something was going on, I'd seen it in his eyes. He was feeling the situation out, and now he'd summoned me back to his office to get the full story.
I walked up the stairs and glanced back at Amy as I went. She had this glare on her face like she was figuring something out, the cogs turning over and over in her head. Damn she looked cute like that.
I turned back quickly though, not wanting to be caught staring, and kept up towards the office door. I walked straight in without knocking. Crash was there, close to the glass, looking out on the casino floor.
“Tell me the truth Jude. I know you weren't beaten up by a couple of guys outside Rizzo's.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, still keeping up the charade.
“I called Kyle when you left earlier. He told me he was in Rizzo's all night on Thursday. You never went there, Jude. So tell me, who did this to you?”
F*ck it.
“Ah yeah, it wasn't Rizzo's. No, it was Druids Bar, that's it. Like I said, I can barely remember. Guess I must have had a bit of concussion or something.”
His face stayed firm, his expression flat.
“Why are you lying to me?” he asked. “Just tell me the truth Jude.”
I stood for a moment, thinking about whether to continue digging a hole or just give in. Frankly, the delay was proof enough that I wasn't telling the truth.
In the end, however, Crash spoke for me.
“It's to do with Amy O'Brien isn't it?” he asked. “It was obvious by the way you were with her. I saw you down there, Jude, it wasn't how you usually are with the girls.”
“Fine,” I said, nodding slowly. “It was his men, they followed me to the....um, well they followed me home and...did this.” I pointed to my face.
He turned away quickly and cursed. “I told you not to go there Jude. You don't mess with Conor O'Brien.”
“It wasn't my fault. He found out about us somehow and then warned me off, and that was it. I didn't go near her.”
“OK, so how did it happen.”
“She turned up at the bar the other night,” I said quickly. “She came in and I told her I couldn't see her. I guess O'Brien had his men watching her or something – I wouldn't put it past him – and they probably saw her go in. I left a bit after her and they beat me up. One of them said it was a message from him. So, like I said earlier, it was just a misunderstanding.”
Crash was nodding and looking at me, thinking things over. He had no anger on his face, there didn't appear to be any fury building inside him. This wasn't just a couple of punks he could punish. No, Conor O'Brien was above even Crash's paygrade.
“OK, does she know?”
“What, that her dad's a f*cking psycho and will have any potential suitor for his daughter beaten half to death? Erm, I doubt it, no. Jesus Christ if I told her that and it f*cked up their relationship, you'd probably lose your youngest brother.”
Crash's jaw clenched at the thought. “If that happened, then he'd have to kill all of us, because I wouldn't rest until I put him six feet under.”
I saw the old fire inside his eyes beginning to light. And I knew what he was capable of if he had the right motivation.
“Right, just stay away from her, all right. You remember what I told you about him. He doesn't like our family much, so you don't want to antagonize him.”
“Yeah, I've got the scars to prove that Crash. Trust me, I've got no intentions of meddling with her again.”
I said it with such conviction that I even believed it myself. The truth, however, was that my intentions weren't always the way things actually went and, deep down, I still wanted that girl like the desert wants the rain
.