9. Gasoline

Chapter Nine

GASOLINE

A fter Sean's grotesque passing, McGregor's no longer held the same atmosphere and appeal it used to. Maybe Layne was just projecting her feelings, but the joint used to hold a sense of home and belonging that had seemingly been torn from it. Sean not only had been the face everyone saw behind the bar, but his dry humor and work ethic turned the joint into a safe haven for many.

With such a presence now missing, Layne had a hell of a time finding the right owner to replace the man who had been the backbone of this establishment for as long as she had been alive.

It had been sheer luck that Jillian, Sean's niece, was looking to move back to the city. She was every bit of a spitfire that Layne was. Turned out, she had experience managing a bar in the rougher parts of Chicago for several years. But when Jillian got homesick, she put up the dive bar for sale and decided the Big Apple was where her heart was.

At first, Layne was wary of Jillian's ability to turn a blind eye to the seedy business transactions that occurred at McGregor's Pub. However, in the first week that she was running things, it was made clear she was a perfect fit.

Layne and Ethan had been meeting to discuss business as usual when a disgruntled drunk not only disparaged Ethan's favorite waitress but refused to leave her a tip. Layne's senior enforcer didn't take kindly to it, and in a move of stupidity, ended up stabbing the man's hand and pinning it to the table with a steak knife. It took everything Layne had not to do the same to Ethan for his lack of awareness and unsound judgment.

Jillian's reaction had been outrage, but not because a member of Layne's crew had just blatantly attacked one of the patrons. No, she had been pissed because of the mess the drunkard's blood left on the table. Ethan had been made to apologize to Jillian and forced to clean up after his moment of indiscretion. Layne had never seen the table so shiny and clean in the entire history of McGregor's.

Currently, with the anniversary of Shannon O'Reilly's death only days away, Layne was checking the accounting records earlier in the month than usual. This was going to be the first year that Layne didn't show up to her favorite pub for her annual inebriated shitshow.

While Jillian seemed to fit in with the rest of the criminally inclined crowd, Layne didn't feel comfortable exposing the more vulnerable side of herself. This year, with Sean's presence no longer there, it would just add to the dark hole she planned to dive into.

"What are you looking for? Those are the books from months ago," Joey asked as he sat back in his chair with a bottle of cheap beer in his hand.

After the day Layne had suddenly taken off from the hospital, Joey and Gage had made it clear that she wasn't going anywhere without either of them. She would have been more agreeable to a thousand papercuts than having her guys risking their lives for her. But arguing with them had gotten her nowhere, the stubborn assholes dug their heels in just as much as she typically did. Only they used it to their advantage that there were two of them and only one of her. So here Joey was, keeping a watchful eye over her.

Layne had dragged the box of records down from the second floor to a table in the back and was now combing through each of them. "Trying to figure out if I'm as crazy as I feel," she responded with heavy distraction lingering underneath her words that indicated she was mostly talking to herself.

She flipped another page, scanning each line for the very thing that had raised red flags the day Sean was killed.

Joey's hand reached out and stopped her from turning another page. The skull on the back of his hand was staring right at her. Layne looked over at him, "What are you doing?"

"You've hardly said more than a few sentences to me since you got back from meeting with Liam." His look grew serious as he tried to read through the masked expression on her face.

She rolled her eyes. "I disagree." Layne attempted to pry his hand from the book, but he was determined to leave it there. She would have had better luck trying to lift a two-ton vehicle than getting him to budge.

Taking a measured breath, he shook his head. "Sentences that revolve around you moaning out ‘God, yes, Joey' don't count." He set the beer bottle on the table in front of him, wiping the condensation it left on his hand on the thigh of his jeans.

Not that he was complaining about both of them getting their insatiable fixes of one another, but she had been incredibly more guarded than normal. It was her raising of defenses that he knew so well that had him the most concerned about what was going on in her head. If her thoughts were spiraling, he needed to put a stop to it.

With a blank look on her face, Layne stared at him, waiting for him to say more. When he refused to back down, she let out a huff. "I'm just trying to figure shit out. The sooner we can resolve this fucking situation with Liam, the sooner we will all get back to normal." It wasn't a total lie, but it wasn't the thing that had been chewing away at her typically steadfast foundation.

It didn't seem that Joey was buying what she was selling as he inched his chair closer to hers. When she attempted to lean back, his hand was suddenly on the back of her neck forcing her to stay right where she was. "Layney, I was shot in the goddamn chest, not bashed over the head. Do you think I can't tell when you're putting up your barricades? I'm going to give you this one chance to answer my question. What has you pulling away from me?"

The way he asked that question of her tore a little hole in her heart. He may not have been a man who wore his emotions on his sleeve, but she knew him well enough to hear the pain in his words. Her hand came up behind her neck to rest on the back of his hand which was refusing to let her run and hide from this conversation. After several unsuccessful attempts of her fingers to peel his grasp off of her, she finally dropped her hand back into her lap.

Seeing his lips part to follow up on his unanswered question, she quickly let the words tumble out of her mouth. "I wish you had left the city the same night that Rebecca did."

Joey's hand loosened up its hold on her. "What?" His hand shifted from holding onto the back of her neck firmly, now to gently cradling it. The rich tones of his brown eyes reflected a series of emotions including one that made her feel guilty for even voicing her confession.

"Please don't look at me like that." She frowned. "I can't think straight with you around, I don't know what to believe anymore, and I can't stand that it was you bleeding all over the church steps that day when it was supposed to be me."

At first, she wasn't sure if he was pissed at her honesty or if he was simply in disbelief that she laid it all out for him. Perhaps it was both.

Deciding to leave the heavy conversation there, she pushed her chair back to get up from her seat. His hand fell away from her neck when she stood. It wasn't more than a fraction of a second before his hand wrapped around hers, ensuring she didn't walk away from him.

He pulled her closer until his other arm drew her down to take a seat on his thigh. "Layne, I want you to listen to me." Both his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her securely.

"I know what you're going to say." She braced herself for him to tell her she was being ridiculous and that she needed to suck it up and deal.

He scoffed. "Are you going to shut the hell up and let me talk?" Joey paused, waiting for her to decide if she was going to let him get out what he needed to tell her.

After a few seconds, he continued, "Do you feel this?" His hand lifted hers to rest on his chest directly over his heart. The light pulse of the muscle circulating blood throughout his body thumped against her palm. "You're the only one that will ever have the power to make it stop beating. That's the only thing you ever need to believe."

Feeling the strong beating beneath her hand, it grounded her anxious thoughts. Layne leaned over and pressed her forehead to his, trying to focus on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "That's what scares me. You're caught up in all of this mess because of me."

"And I would do it all over again. The day I sat down next to you on that stool over there," he pointed over at the line of stools up against the bar, "was the luckiest day of my life."

"Look at you being all sentimental," she teased lightly.

Joey grinned at her, taking her face with both of his hands. "Now, this is the part where I'm going to tell you to suck it up. You're better than this. Don't try to put out your fire because you're worried about me or anyone else. I want you to pour fuckin' gasoline on that bitch."

A smile cracked at the corners of her mouth.

It was the way her lips curved that he saw the piece of her that had been shaken up after his brush with death beginning to fade to make room for the feisty Irish girl to return. "Speaking of sucking things up, I have something else you can use your mouth on while you're at it," his words lowered into a growl.

Immediately, her hand smacked his shoulder. "You're an ass. You should have quit while you were ahead." She laughed.

He smirked, "There's my girl." He pulled her face to him as his lips possessively locked onto her own.

Layne's hands balled up his shirt as she leaned into the kiss, passionately wrestling with him for control. Her need for more of him escalated quickly as she shifted from being perched on his leg to straddling his lap with her body grinding against him.

It wasn't until Jillian cleared her throat, standing in front of their table with her arms crossed that Joey and Layne halted their actions.

"You two almost done here? If not, God created these things called alleys you can go fuck in." Jillian motioned at the side door that led outside to the nearest said alley. "I would like to get these books back upstairs before I leave for the day." Her eyes dropped to the accounting records Layne had been perusing.

Biting her lower lip with a sheepish grin, Layne was definitely considering going outside to continue what they had started. Her thumb swiped below Joey's bottom lip, wiping away a bit of leftover saliva from their heated exchange.

She looked over at Jillian as she eased off of Joey's lap and back into her seat. "I am almost done, just give me a few minutes to finish going through this book and then we'll be outta here."

Jillian nodded, "Mmhmm," before walking away. She was not entirely convinced the two lovebirds would be able to keep their hands to themselves long enough.

As Layne tried to focus back on the records, her eyes stole a glance over at Joey. Damn, getting through the last few pages of this book was going to take every bit of effort and self-control she had in her. He was sitting back in his chair, legs spread with his hand casually resting on top of the bulge that pushed against the fabric of his jeans.

Telling herself that she could manage to keep her hands to herself for another five minutes, she forced herself to look back down at the book in front of her. Intentionally, she placed an elbow on the table and pressed her fingers to her temple to feebly attempt not to be distracted by him. Where were a set of damn horse blinders when you needed them?

She flipped to the next page, and when she got midway down, she paused. Cocking her head to the right she blinked a few times.

Abruptly, she popped up from her seat. "This!" Layne snatched up the book, strode over to the bar, and dropped the book down onto the counter in front of Jillian.

She tapped aggressively at the line item that had captured her attention. "Do you know what this is??" With wide eyes, Layne hoped her hunch was correct.

"Um," Jillian looked down at the transaction that was being brought to her attention. "Your initials next to a payment for $611.24?"

Layne shook her head. "Yes! But it's really not. Have you had any other transactions like this since you've been here?"

Now, the woman was beginning to believe some of the rumors of Layne's unhinged behavior given how she wasn't making much sense right now. "No, you take your cut straight from the cash reserves."

"Exactly!" She slapped her hand down on the bar. "Son of a bitch! Fuckin' Sean knew I'd question it." Layne unleashed a laugh that bordered on the brink of insanity now that she finally had a breakthrough and not a damn breakdown.

Joey came up behind Layne, laying a hand on the small of her back. "Question what?" He raised a brow, wondering how concerned he should be at the suddenly erratic behavior.

She pointed at the page again. "L.O. Those aren't my initials. Sean made sure that I never had my shares recorded in the books. It has to be Liam! It would explain how he was getting funds without me or anyone else noticing."

Layne cursed under her breath at both the ingenuity of it and whatever other heinous acts Liam must have resorted to in order to get the money out of Sean. If it had been anybody else checking the books, it would have likely gone unnoticed.

That's when the thought struck her. She only checked the books for a few long-standing clients and left the rest to be checked by the lower ranks of her crew. "Fuck…" Layne pulled her phone out of her pocket, quickly dialing up Ethan.

"Ethan? I need the books checked for every damn client of ours for the last few months. If any of them have records with my initials next to them, I want to know." She paused, listening to his response before cutting him off, "I don't care, get Jonathan or Sam to help you. Get it done and don't tell anyone else what you're looking for." She tapped the red circle, ending the discussion.

God help her if she discovered any of her clients were still actively funding Liam's ventures. They would see firsthand just how hot her fire could burn.