In Too Deep

Ronan turned his attention to his brother.

“I think we should tell her,” Brendan said.

“No.”

“Tell me what?” There was something brewing between the brothers. As much as she told herself it didn’t matter and she shouldn’t care, the reality was she was nosy. She wanted to know what would get Ronan so worked up.

“We think the Cahills know something about what happened to our dad.”

“Fuck,” Ronan growled. “She has to see them all the time.”

Her head was reeling. Their father? He’d been missing for twenty years. She replayed the conversations she’d heard them have about Ronan. “Wait. You don’t think they know something, you think they did something to your dad?”

“We don’t know,” Brendan said, calm as ever. Ronan, however, slammed his fist on the table and walked away.

“Why is he so mad?”

Brendan leaned back in his seat and put his arm across the back of the booth. Lifting his beer, he said, “If I had to guess, he’s worried about you getting caught up in a mess that isn’t yours.”

“Should you maybe go after him?”

“Nah. He’ll be fine. He just doesn’t see it yet.”

“See what?” She was only three beers in and she was having a hard time following.

“That you can be useful.”

“Me?”

“You’ve already been privy to two different conversations without even trying. Imagine what would happen if you put in some effort.”

Ronan took that moment to reappear. “Fuck no.” Reclaiming his seat beside her, he pointed at his brother. “I told you she needs to stay out of this.” Then he turned to her. “Go home, Chloe.”

She leaned closer, fury bubbling in her chest. “I am so freaking tired of people telling me what to do. You don’t make choices for me, Ronan.”

“I won’t take your calls. I won’t see you here or at the Rose. Your information will be useless.”

She smiled sweetly. “I think Brendan will be interested.” She glanced at Brendan, who said nothing but answered with a smile.

“I’ll kick his ass if he talks to you again.”

Brendan laughed.

“That’s real mature of you. Especially since I’m a grown woman who can speak to whomever I want.”

Ronan’s hand flexed into a fist on the table. “Didn’t he hurt you enough the first time?”

“I didn’t intentionally hurt her. You know that,” Brendan said.

She reached out tentatively and placed her hand on Ronan’s chest. His heart raced and his muscles were rock hard. “I know that. I was a kid and thought I was in love. We weren’t going to be a forever thing. I’m fine.”

His hand gripped hers for a brief moment against his chest before pulling it away. “You might not be this time.”

This made no sense. She was no one to him. A neighborhood girl. He’d said so himself. Why did he care?

“I want to help. Think of it as letting me pay you back for rescuing me when I was sixteen.”

“She’s the best thing we’ve got. Pressure from you on one side, her listening from the other to know how it impacts them,” Brendan said.

“See? All I’m going to do is listen. It’s kind of my job as a bartender. Nothing’s going to hurt me.”