“He’s not banned. The corporate manager already said you couldn’t ban anyone,” Clare said defiantly.

Cian just narrowed his eyes at her, his nostrils flaring. Giving up, he stormed off to the back room, cursing under his breath.

“Feisty.” There was a spark in Rory’s eyes as he gazed at Clare.

“Don’t forget it.”

“I’ll see you later tonight to take you home, mhuirnín.” He gave her a quick kiss on her forehead, then released her and strutted back over to his brothers, who were clearly snickering and being juvenile about the interaction.

Rory whacked Quinn on the back of his head, which told Clare Quinn must have made some type of smart-ass comment. Cian shouted for her again, and she scurried back behind the bar to finish her shift.

Chapter 14

“Clare, don’t you have a cellphone or something?” Cian barked as he wandered back into the empty pub to find her counting her tips at the counter.

“Yeah, why?”

“Stop using the bar’s number as your own personal line, then.” Cian scowled, pulling open the cash register and replacing the empty tray after having secured all the day’s earnings in the bank envelope.

“What are you talking about?”

“You have a call on line one. Hurry up—you still have side work to do.”

He waved her away as Clare pushed the bills on the counter together and pocketed her tips, heading to the back room that led to the office. She couldn’t imagine who would be calling her here, since only her new, local friends knew she worked here.

She picked up the receiver that was sitting on the desk, off the hook. “Hello?”

“I’ve missed that sound,” a scratchy voice rumbled, and Clare instantly felt her stomach drop.

“Clare?” the caller said when she didn’t respond.

“What do you want?” Her teeth were clenched together, her tone stern.

“That’s not a very nice way to talk to your boyfriend, Clare.”

“How did you find me, Travis?” She tried to stay stern, but her voice was faltering. She bit her lip furiously, angry at herself for showing fear and even more angry at him for causing it.

“You were never the brightest crayon in the box, baby. I’ve known where you are for a while. I’ve let you have your fun, your little bout of independence, but my patience is running thin. You have something that is mine, and I want it back. So, either you come home or I come to you. And you know that if you make me come get you, you’re not going to be the only one to pay for your mistake.” He went from nonchalant to forceful and threatening in a flash.

“I’m not coming back, and that money is mine; it was my parents’. You stole it, and I stole it back. You’re not touching it, or me, again. We are over. I’m not your girlfriend.” She clasped the phone receiver in her hand tightly, her body shaking.

“You know I’ve always liked it when you pick the hard way. A lot more fun for me. See you soon, baby.”

The line went dead.

Trembling, Clare placed the phone on the receiver, closing her eyes. She felt nauseated and realized she was about to vomit. Jumping up out of the office chair, she rushed down the hall to the employee bathroom and instantly emptied the contents of her stomach.

“Well, that’s just disgusting. You could have at least closed the door,” Cian said from behind her, as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Sorry,” she whimpered, kneeling over the toilet, waiting for the next round of sickness to hit her.

“You better not be pregnant. I can’t afford to hire and train a new bartender right now.”

“I’m not pregnant, Cian. I just need to go home.” She stood up and washed out her mouth in the sink, then wiped her face with some paper towels.

“Fine, I’ll finish up tonight. But only because I’m afraid you might puke on me. You have a couple days off anyway, but you better be good to go by Saturday.” He marched back to the office, not showing any further interest in her or concern for her well-being.

She unsteadily trailed over to her locker and collected her belongings, then called a cab from her cellphone to meet her out front. She knew Rory would be mad at her for leaving early, but she didn’t want to explain to him. Things were still so new between them. She didn’t even know how to define what they were to each other.

Once thing was certain: She wasn’t about to burden him with her problems.

Especially when it now seemed like she was going to have to run again.

—

Rory checked his cellphone for the time. Clare was normally done by now, but she had yet to leave O’Leary’s and meet him and Ace out front. Circling around the alley to the back of the building, he knocked on the metal door.

“Fuck, what do you want?” Cian greeted him after pushing open the heavy door. Rory ignored the man’s unpleasant attitude, staring past him into the back of the restaurant.

“Is Clare done yet?”

“No, she left like ninety minutes ago.” He crossed his arms, staring Rory down defiantly.

“She left early?”

“Yeah, she was really fucking things up tonight, so I sent her home.”

Rory tightened his jaw at the comment, narrowing his eyes at Cian and seriously contemplating breaking his nose again. Ace snarled quietly next to him, feeling the animosity between the men. Rory put his hand out flat, a signal for Ace to calm down. Nervousness flashed over Cian’s weaselly face as he glanced at the dog and gulped.

“What are you talking about?” Rory tried to keep his voice calm and slow, when really he just wanted to smash a fist through Cian’s arrogant face.

“First, giving out the bar number like it’s her own personal line. I don’t tolerate employees using up our phone bill like that. Then puking everywhere the moment she finishes her call. Disgusting. That girl has been nothing but a headache since I hired her. Big mistake.”

“Cian, I’m trying really hard here to control my temper, but if you say one more bad thing about Clare, I will make you regret it.” Rory clenched his fists at his sides.

“Fuck, calm down, Irish Hulk.” Cian was getting bolder, and for a moment Rory considered helping him relearn his lesson. Not tonight, he decided, Clare needed him.

“Did she say where she was going?” Rory asked Cian.

“Don’t know, don’t care.”

“Thanks for all your help,” Rory said sarcastically, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he left. Ace dutifully followed him.

He dialed Clare’s number, waiting as the phone rang. But it didn’t ring, it went straight to voicemail. Rory hung up and tried again once he reached the sidewalk, wondering if his reception was faulty.

Voicemail again.

Cursing, he texted her, asking her where she was. He knew the route to her home like the back of his hand, so he began walking that direction, checking his phone every few minutes to see if she had responded. His mind was racing as a flurry of different thoughts bombarded him. He had just seen her a few hours ago, yet here he was, glued to his phone waiting for her name to pop up. He had never been that way with a girl before; it was frustrating as hell.

At his brisk pace, it wasn’t long until he and Ace were in front of her apartment building pressing on the buzzer for 3B. After multiple attempts with no answer, Rory began pressing her neighbors’ buzzers, hoping that one of them would let him in.

Luckily, someone did, and he heard the door beep. He grabbed the handle and swung it open, taking the stairs two at a time. He paused in front of her door, pacing for a moment as he thought.

Running his fingers through his wavy brown hair, he began second-guessing himself. Maybe she had just gone home early. Showing up on her doorstep might make her regard him as a crazy stalker.