“Thank you.” I give her an appreciative smile.
She returns it with a glare. Her eyes are ocean blue and piercing, I could get lost in them.
“I want you to put a tracker on it,” I tell Charlie, handing him her phone. “I want to know where she is at any time.”
“Seriously?” she interrupts. She’s annoyed, and that’s fine. I want her to know I’m tracking her. I want her to know that I know where she is at all times. I want her to fear me.
I ignore her outburst, instead directing my focus on Charlie. “I need a minute. You got this?”
“Yep,” Charlie responds, then looks to Annie. “Mind if I use your table?”
“Sure, not that I get a fucking say.”
I laugh.
Yep, her sass is back.
I take a moment to freshen up in her bathroom, god knows I need it.
My hangover was dull now, at least I could thank Annie for that. I’m not completely sure what I’m doing here, why I’m overtaking this girl's life, but I know I can’t go back now and honestly I don’t want to.
I want everything Annie Byrne has to offer.
My little thief.
I scrub a hand down my face and look over myself in the mirror. I have three days worth of stubble growing on my jaw. A good made man would shave.
A good made man would do a lot of things I’m slacking on right now.
I feel motivated with her out there though. I currently want to take on the Pearce job and get shit done with her here.
It’s a stupid thought, really.
She has one use for me; she gets through that opening and then she’s done. I’m done with her.
Already, I wonder if that’s really what’s going to happen.
I slick my hair back with water from the tap and then change into my fresh suit. A fresh suit can make you feel like a new man, and that’s what I’m counting on right now.
“Jesus.” I hear Frank exclaim as he enters her apartment. I can’t help but to laugh. Everyone who walks in here is shocked by the mess.
The Irish really are a brutal bunch.
I’m surprised they didn’t hurt her, they’re known for their violence.
“Help her then, will ya?” I scold him as I exit the bathroom.
Annie is still in her position curled on the couch when I re-enter the living room.
Maybe this was a fucking bad idea.
She’s putting on a brave face, but I can tell she’s scared.
She’s loyal as hell though. It’s just too bad she’s loyal to two idiots and not me.
“Where should I even start?” Frank asks, waiving a hand to the mess of an apartment.
I wonder how well kept this apartment was before the Irish got here, she probably didn’t normally live like this.
“Books go on this shelf?” I asked, picking up a loose book and gesturing to her empty bookshelf.
She nods her answer.
“That’s where you start,” I tell Frank, handing him the book.
I still need to go over ground rules with her and I’m not sure when these assholes will get here looking to collect.
“Okay,” I release a breath and sit down next to Annie on the couch. She side-eyes me, not sure what to expect. “Let’s go over some ground rules,” I start. “You keep the phone on you at all times. I’ll be tracking you with it, okay? So don’t ever leave it behind, if I think something is up I’ll be on you quicker than you can even think up a plan. Got it?”
She nods, avoiding my eyes. Selfishly, I want to hear her voice again. “Verbal answers, sweetheart.”
“Got it.” She says, her voice is soft and light.
“When I call, you answer.” I continue. Her eyes still won’t look at me, so I reach over grabbing her chin to move her face to me. The action makes her scowl. “Listen to me, sweetheart. You need to answer every time. If you don’t, I’ll come find you. If I tell you to do something, do it. If I tell you to go somewhere, go there. Be on time, better yet, be early. Do you understand me?”
Her arms are still crossed over her chest. “I understand,” she mutters. She lifts her eyes to meet my gaze. “I didn’t realize by working for you, you meant taking over my life.”
Around me, I can see that Frank and Charlie have paused their actions. I’m known to be hot-headed, I don’t take kindly to people back talking to me.
But when she does it, it's different.
I chuckle. Then before she’s it coming, I grab her wrist and pull her close to me. I can tell I have her at a painful angle from the look on her face. “By working for me you’ll do whatever I fucking say. That’s the cost of your life and your brother's life. Not to mention the fifty fucking grand I’m about to hand over to keep you alive. You accepted my offer, sweetheart, so welcome to your new life.”
I release her wrist and she instinctively pulls it to her chest. Her eyes are glassy and she’s biting her lip trying to keep tears from falling. For a moment I feel bad, but all it takes is reminding myself that she tried to rob me for that feeling to go away.
She steels her spine and then stands from the couch. I can tell she’s trying to keep from crying in front of me, but I can’t give her any semblance of an upper hand. I grab the back of her sweatshirt and yank her back down to the couch. The move frightens her enough for a single tear to roll down her cheek.
“Sit down,” I say, this time she doesn’t argue. “Okay.
