She wasn’t bold enough to say that she wasn’t his business either, so instead, she kept quiet.
“Besides, I’ve been thinking it might be a good idea for the two of us to get away for a while—a holiday or something.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and she knew within seconds that they weren’t what he wanted to hear.
He hit the brakes hard as he parked, shoving the gear shift into park as he sat back, his jaw tightening.
Before he could take further offense, she amended, “There’s just too much going on for me to get away right now.”
He rubbed his chin, then shook his head. “I’ll give you a few days to get your stuff together. With what Rourke has planned, I don’t want you around for that shit.”
“And what does he have planned?”
Liam’s frustration cleared as he draped an arm across her seat, smiling. “Nothing for you to worry about. It’ll all be over soon. Now, why don’t you go on and I’ll see you later.”
Not bothering to argue with him, she reached for the door handle. “I’ll call you when—”
“No need. Bobby’ll be here.”
Reagan froze. “What?”
“For your protection.”
“Protection from what?”
Putting a hand to the back of her neck, he tugged her forward, smashing his lips against hers, pulling away after a moment. “Nothing you need to worry yourself about. Go on,” he said with a nod of his head towards the pub. “Before I have a mind to keep you here.”
She couldn’t get out the car fast enough.
The last thing she wanted to think about was Liam, and what his words meant—she had the pub to think about after all. But, as she watched him pull away, only now noticing the car that was idling at the curb, Rourke’s man, Bobby, folding his big body out of it, she couldn’t help but feel like she was in the middle of something that had absolutely nothing to do with her.
* * *
Parting Glass Tavern was located in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen, a premiere spot that had gotten Reagan loads of traffic when they had first opened, but with the rise of more restaurants in the area, it was becoming harder for her to keep up with the growing competition. Especially when Conor was drinking more than he sold.
It wasn’t necessarily that her business was doing poorly, but she wasn’t doing nearly as well as she had in the past, and if she were being honest, she didn’t think all of it was because of her dad. Ever since it had become unspoken knowledge that she was Liam’s, a number of her regulars had stopped coming around, and when she happened to see them out and about, they always turned their heads and hurried away as though afraid to even be around her.
Reagan didn’t know what to do anymore.
As she entered the pub, breathing in the familiar and welcome scent of ale and Guinness, some of the tension swelling in her chest eased. She had made it a point to keep the place as close to her heritage as possible. The front was made of glass with black wood dividing the windows, and on a gold-plated sign that hung from the post out front was the name of the place lasered onto it. The interior had floors of polished wood, a bar of the same, with leather bar stools lined along the front. Fifteen tables made up the dining room, enough for people that wanted to eat, and for when the bar got crowded. Two flat screens hung from the wall, one currently playing rugby, the other American soccer. Depending on which crowd they got usually determined what was played.
Standing behind the bar was Joey and Shan. Shan had been dating Joey on-and-off for the better part of nine years now. It was surprising that he hadn’t already married the girl, but considering they had only just gotten back together after another stint—meaning a very public screaming match where Shan threatened to cut his dick off if he was cheating—Reagan figured it might have been best for them to hold out a little while longer.
Spotting Reagan coming in, Shan came around the bar, her smile already in place as she said, “We were wondering what was taking you so long. Last time you—” she paused when she caught sight of Bobby coming in behind her.
While they might not have been forced to answer to Liam, Rourke, and the others the way she did, they were all too aware of the kinds of men they were, and Reagan had never lied to Shan about Liam’s practices.
Giving her a look that promised an explanation later, Reagan headed for the back. She turned at the last minute to tell Bobby he didn’t have to trail after her—even if Liam had told him to do just that—but to her luck, his attention was snared by the rugby match and she was all but forgotten as he found a seat at the bar.