Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“Well, let’s just hope we can keep it at two,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice.
“I think that’s a good idea,” I agreed.
“I don’t really even know what life will look like now that I don’t ever have to worry about him again,” she admitted.
“It can look however you want,” I told her.
“However we want,” she corrected.
“However we want,” I agreed, really looking forward to seeing what that might be.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Vienna - 3 weeks
“You know, when you dumpster dive, you’re supposed to actually do it inside the dumpster,” a male voice called, making me yelp and jerk, nearly knocking my head against said dumpster.
My heartbeat hammered against my ribcage and my hand went into my pocket, closing around the weapon Murphy had given me as I turned toward the alley to find a man standing there, his hands tucked into his pockets.
He was tall and fit with dirty blonde hair, classically handsome bone structure, and stormy blue eyes.
“Though, fair warning, we had a wild bachelor party last night. A lot of idiots who don’t know their limits. Let’s just say the bags are full of a lot of… shit you’d rather not get on your… very fashionable buffalo jacket.”
“Bison,” I corrected automatically, making his lips curve up, giving me an appealing, boyish grin.
“I stand corrected. So, Red, what are you doing in my dumpster?”
His dumpster.
This was the alley next to The Bog.
I hadn’t been to the town’s only bar yet. But the guys at the club talked fondly of it. As did Nyx and Delaney, who had both worked there for a time.
If this man owned the dumpster, and therefore The Bog, it was clearly one of the infamous Murphy Brothers.
I knew them only by reputation, mostly thanks to the stories Delaney, their baby sister, and Nyx, their former bartender, told.
There were, apparently, five of them. Cillian, Sean, Rian, Conor, and Eoin. Looks, apparently, were no way to tell them apart, since they were all so similar-looking, outside of subtle changes in eye colors or frames.
But I understood from the girls that Sean and Eoin were more on the quiet and standoffish side. Not, I figured, the kind to joke with a strange girl about dumpster diving.
And Cillian, as the leader of the family, was probably more likely to ask me what I was doing, not make a joke.
Conor was the one with the hot temper.
But Rian? Rian was the lighthearted one of the family. The one who was always up for a good time. And quick with a joke.
There was no fear in me, not even facing a strange man. Who also happened to be a member of the Irish mafia.
Because I knew that the Murphy brothers were as good of men as you could come by, according to the girls. They certainly would never hurt a woman. Save for maybe some heartbreaking.
“Under.”
“Hm?” he asked.
“I’m not in your dumpster; I’m under your dumpster.”
“I stand corrected. Did you lose something?” he asked, rolling back on his heels, hands in his pockets, looking perfectly at ease.
“I think I saw a kitten,” I admitted.
“This time of year?” he asked, dubious.
“They can breed as early as February,” I insisted.
“True, but one being away from its mom this time of year? Dunno.”
“Well, I have to check. It could freeze to death out here,” I insisted, feeling the chill move through me even under my layers and heavy jacket.
“Sure, sure. Carry on,” he said, waving toward the dumpster.
“You’re just going to watch?” I asked.
“I’m intrigued,” he told me.
“You could help,” I suggested.
“I could, but I like these pants,” he said, waving down at them. “It’s a dead-end. I promise to catch it if it runs my way.”
“Okay,” I agreed, ducking down again, trying not to think about the sick I might be putting my hands in, letting brush against my clothing.
“Psstpsstpsst,” I called as I heard rustling near the back corner. “Come on, baby,” I called, voice sing song. “I’ll get you some warm formula,” I added. “Psstpsstpsst.”
The sound moved closer, and I reached under the dumpster, feeling my fingers brush something furry.
But I started it out from under the dumpster, making me fall back on my ass and shriek as I saw something that was decidedly not a small, sweet, needy kitten.
“Yeah, I’m not catching that,” Rian said as a rat the size of a small cat ran past him, disappearing down the street. “It was a valiant effort,” he told me as he walked down the alley, offering me his hand. “I’m sure the rat felt very wanted and loved.”
I placed my hand in his as a snorting laugh escaped me.
He pulled me to my feet and gave me that boyish smile again. “I’m Rian, by the way.”
“I know,” I agreed.
“You do?” he asked, tone curious but with that hint of flirtatiousness. “Does my reputation precede me?” he asked.