Chapter 2SheenaIt’s hard to walk on heels with a mini skirt while carrying an armful of groceries, but I manage. I normally change before I come home—no, I can’t call this place home any more. This is my mother’s place. This isn’t my home.
I didn’t change tonight because I didn’t have time. I have exactly one hour to drop these off, freshen up, and head into the club.
Someone catcalls behind me, and I grit my teeth. I’ve got twenty or so more paces to get to the door.
“Well, if it isn’t miss high and mighty.”
Jesus, no. The very sound of my ex-boyfriend’s voice sends shivers down my spine, and not in a good way.
“Leave me alone, Cian,” I say over my shoulder, not bothering to even turn to look at him.
“Lookin’ mighty fine there, Sheena.”
I try to mask the way I start when I hear him right behind me.
“Give those to me, now, lass. Pretty little thing like you ought not to be carryin’ heavy things, eh?”
He’s right next to me, reaching for the bags.
“I’ve got them, thanks.”
His voice hardens.
“Give it here.”
He’s in my space, blocking me. I’d do anything never to see his shaved head and skinny, inked neck again. How I ever thought the man was attractive is a feckin’ mystery. Now that I know him better, he resembles an underfed rat.
Though we stand eye-to-eye when I’m wearing heels, he’s stockier than I am. More vicious. He reaches for the bags.
“Leave off,” I say in my hardest voice. “I said I’ve got them.”
“Course you have,” he says, his black eyes narrowing. “You’ve got everything, don’t you? Posh clothes. Fancy car. Fancy job. Aye, you’ve got this.”
I try to walk around him, but he blocks my way.
“Need some help, there, Sheena?”
Relief floods through me at the sound of my brother’s voice. I look to my left to see him approaching me at a good clip. Though Tiernan’s only sixteen, and a tiny sixteen at that, he’s fierce. He’s determined to protect me, and just his presence brings a little comfort.
“Thank you, Tiernan. I need to bring these in and get back to work.”
Tiernan takes the bags out of my hands.
“I told her I’d help her, boy,” Cian says.
My brother’s cheeks flame, matching his hair as he glares at Cian. “Aye, and she told you she didn’t need it. So fuck off.”
Cian takes a step toward Tiernan. “Or what, you fuckin’ twat? You’ll beat me up? You and what army?”
“Leave off, Cian,” I tell him. “Go in the house, Tiernan.”
He takes the bags, but before he leaves, he glares at Cian. I’ve got to hand it to him. He’s brave. I wish he hadn’t provoked Cian, though. The man will stop at nothing, and I fear some form of retaliation.
I walk behind Tiernan, ignoring Cian’s curses and cruel taunts, until I get to the door.
“Tell yer mam you frequent The Craic, then, why don’t you? Think she’d take yer filthy money then?”
I almost falter, almost give in to a smart retort, but he isn’t worth my time.
I don’t need him knowing I go there, dammit.
I open the door, cringing when it creaks on its hinges. One swift kick, and anyone could knock this down. They aren’t safe here.
It’s dark inside when I enter. The stale smell of whiskey and cigarettes lingers in the air. The sink overflows with dirty dishes, a soiled basket of laundry sits by the door, and the floor’s in need of a thorough sweep. My stomach swoops with nausea. I hate that my siblings live in such squalor. Aine Hurston, my mother by birth but the woman I’ve done my best to disown, hardly deserves even this.
“Sheena!” Fiona hurls herself at me and gives me a huge hug. At thirteen years old, she’s moving from childhood to adolescence, but she’s still as exuberant as she was as a small child. I nearly topple over when I hug her back. I remember her as a five year old, when she still had the chubby cheeks of babyhood. She still has round cheeks, wide blue eyes, and my family’s trademark red hair. I remember taking her onto my lap and brushing her long, gorgeous hair.
“Ah, hello there, Fiona.” I hug her back. My throat tightens and my nose tingles. If I could, I’d pack the lot of them in the back of my car, leave, and never look back. But I can’t. The courts would never allow it, and doing so could ruin my career. And if I lose my job, I wouldn’t be able to provide for them any longer.
It’s complicated.
Some day, though. Some day…
“Where’s mum, sweetie?”
“Sleeping,” Fiona says.
Passed out, then.
“Fucking sleeping,” Tiernan mutters. He hates her as much as I do, though he won’t admit it. He’s old enough to know why she’s sleeping.
“Language, Tiernan,” I whisper.