Chapter 14

The office that stored all the administrative crap for the Irish pub, McGregor's, was located directly above the bar on the second floor. It could barely be called an office though, it was merely a cramped room the size of a walk-in closet with hardly enough room for one person, let alone two. It had a vintage wooden desk with rickety drawers underneath it, a miniature window to allow a small rectangle of light inside, a short stool that often remained tucked under the desk, and creative storage solutions cluttering the area.

Now that O'Reilly Enterprises had a decent amount of workers, she could have left the more menial tasks like checking books to some of the guys further down the chain. However, there were a few long-time supporters whom Layne liked to keep the relationship strong with. McGregor's and its owner, Sean, was one of those VIPs.

Layne stood in front of the worn desk. Her finger flipped to the next page of the book that contained all the cash records. Slowly she ran her finger over the line of each transaction, mentally calculating the incoming and outgoing cash flows for the past month. Nearly every transaction was appropriately labeled.

At her back, Gage was squeezed in behind her. He was close enough that she could feel each breath he exhaled while he hovered over her. The scent wafting off of him, spicy and warm vanilla notes, suffocated her senses so that she no longer noticed the musty smell of the ancient building that was strongest there on the second floor.

Not taking her eyes off the numbers written on the page she spoke up, "You could stand right outside the door instead of hovering over me like an assassin is going to pop out from one of these drawers." She shifted uncomfortably as she tried to find herself more space.

Sure, he could have given her the extra two feet of space, but where was the fun in that? He grinned as he watched over her shoulder as she continued her financial examination. "Can never be too cautious, ya know? I gave my word that I would protect every part of your body from suffering any harm." The deep register of his voice quieted as he spoke slower, "Every. Last. Inch."

She slapped her palm down on the current page of the accounting records she had been reviewing and turned her head to glare at him. "Can you not?"

His lips curved into a smirk that suited his face, drawing his mouth up in a way that she was sure had girls everywhere ruining panties. "Just doing my job. You're all mine to watch over today."

Layne gave an exasperated sigh as she spun around to fully face him, doing her best to still leave a little room for the grace of God. "You can do your job damn well while not invading my space. Just because you may have a history of playing nicely in the sandbox with Joey, doesn't mean it automatically makes you entitled."

His face shifted to one of delightful surprise. "So, he finally told you about Rose?"

As Gage leaned toward her, his hands planted themselves on the edge of the desk on either side of her. Layne did her best to keep her back rigid while holding her ground as her eyes stubbornly stared at him. "We talked about it." She prayed that the sound of her racing heart couldn't be heard.

"That sounds promising." He nodded to himself, seemingly impressed at this new development.

She scoffed at his ability to feel so full of certainty. "Get over yourself."

Finally, her hand made contact with his chest. As her hand applied pressure to try and give herself some space, she could feel the strength of the muscles tensing just beneath his shirt. When her thoughts strayed to pondering what his broad chest looked like without his shirt, her hand immediately recoiled like she had been burned by a lump of hot coal.

The sudden jerk of her hand off his chest had him casting a quizzical look at her before it faded back to the amusement of her reactions to him. His hand captured hers and placed it back on his chest, dragging her palm down between his pec muscles. He didn't stop there; he moved her touch further down over his rippling abs.

With her breath caught somewhere between her throat and her heart, at the last moment, she jerked her hand back before it made it down to his belt buckle.

Quickly she spat out, "I don't have time for this. Please, get the hell out of my way." Layne was now impatiently waiting for him to decide if he was going to take his foot off the gas pedal of flirtations.

Gage held his stance there before her for another heartbeat before he took two steps back, dropping his arms down at his sides. "Sure thing, lucky charm." He could still feel the ghost of her touch along the center of his body and it sank even lower to his cock.

He still managed to grate on her nerves with his snarky little nicknames for her despite complying with her request. Layne knew she needed to get some space to douse the flames he had stoked inside her with some water instead of pouring more kerosene on it.

Before heading back downstairs where Sean was restocking the bar, Layne grabbed this month's accounting records off the desk. When she arrived on the main floor with the book in hand, she dropped it on the bar top in front of him. "The numbers are off."

For as long as Sean had owned the Irish pub, she had never known his books to show as much as a penny difference. However, this month his books were reflecting a discrepancy of precisely six-hundred and eleven dollars and twenty-four cents. The entry in the book had her initials, ‘L.O.', next to it in the accounts payable column with no detailed description.

Thankfully, McGregor's wasn't even open to the public yet for another hour and a half so there were no prying ears to overhear this rather sensitive topic. Sean ran his hand over the back of his neck trying to look ignorant of the oversight.

Gage had followed Layne downstairs, resting against the edge of the bar with his elbow. Still thinking about their moment upstairs, he wondered about the current state of her panties. He could see the appeal his brother had in her. She was a strong little spitfire who didn't take any shit. In this line of work, it was rare to find a woman able to hold her own.

"Is there?" was the only acknowledgment of the accounting error Sean gave.

Layne frowned at him. "Sean…" her voice lost some of its edge as she stared at the man who wore his age poorly. The crows' feet at the corners of his eyes were more pronounced, his hair donning a little more white, and the restlessness in his soul as seen through his eyes was heavier.

"Sean," she repeated herself. "You're off by over six hundred dollars. Where did it go? There's nothing here in the books and I sure as hell didn't sign off on it."

Using a bar rag, Sean wiped his fingers off before wringing the towel between his weathered hands. "Must have been these old eyes and rattled brain." The lie on his tongue caused Layne more distress than it should have. He quickly followed up on his excuse, "Let me double-check the entries tonight after closing."

She reached over and laid her hand on top of both of Sean's. "If it's anything but your eyes, I need to know. You've been a great asset to my family since I was a little girl."

Layne recalled the way she used to carelessly run through the pub while her father checked the books or held private meetings. Often, she had gotten underfoot and received a scolding from her father. A much younger Sean had been there to soften the stern tone of Scott O'Reilly and made a Shirley Temple with extra cherries to help lift her spirits. Now, even as an adult, when she was aggressively hungover, it was something she craved.

Sean gave a half-smile at her before pulling his hands away so he could remove the book from the top of the bar. "Layne, you've been like a daughter that I never had. I have always respected and honored your family."

His words rang true with sincerity and honesty, but there was something about the way he looked at her that reflected a soul in despair. Layne withdrew her hands and nodded, hoping that after closing she could sit down with him to figure out these numbers.

"I will be back by tonight after closing." She watched Sean secure the spiral-bound book containing the financials behind the bar. Layne looked over at Gage and nodded toward the door. He straightened up, pushing away from the edge of the bar, and joined her after she said her goodbye to Sean.

After they got back to her silver BMW, she placed her hand on the passenger door's handle. Before pulling on it to open the door, Gage was there with his hand on top of hers. The sunlight illuminated the intricate linework of the blossomed rose on the back of his left hand.

"Allow me." The soothing tone of his voice was like silk against her soul.

From an outsider's perspective, it appeared to be a chivalrous gesture. From Layne's perspective? It felt like an excuse to encroach on her space again. Her emerald orbs looked up at him, trying not to allow her breath to get caught in her throat again.

Layne slithered her hand out from underneath his palm, allowing him to swing the door open for her. Once she was settled in her seat, he closed the door for her before getting in on the driver's side.

She pulled out her phone and noticed a few messages from Joey, a smile immediately spread over her face.

Joey

How are things going?

I may be a little later than I thought tonight.

I would rather be there with you than waiting on these assholes.

Layne

I haven't strangled him…yet.

Be careful and don't do anything stupid. I love you.

Joey

Always and forever.

When Gage got in the car, he was watching as Layne's fingers tapped across her phone and the way her guard came down as her smile indicated she was likely texting with Joey. It was a glimpse past the hard exterior that she usually had wrapped around herself.

Layne looked up to see Gage sitting there watching her. The protective exterior snapped back in place as she shoved her phone into her pocket. "What?"

He sat up straight in his seat with his head held high. "Where to, your Highness?"

She shook her head. "Will you stop with the damn cutesy names?"

Gage relaxed his posture and smirked at her, hearing the irritation in her voice. "Just trying to see what fits you."

"Just fucking drive. 15 East 7th Street." Her hand waved him on, and when he complied, turning his attention to the road ahead of him, she couldn't help but allow her eyes to linger over his profile.

Casually he was sitting back in the seat with one hand on top of the steering wheel, the rest of him appearing at ease as he navigated each street on the way to the next location. His right elbow was on the center armrest as he hung his arm over the edge of it. The tattooed word on the back of his hand was in plain sight, WRATH.

"Wrath? Who the hell gets that tattooed on their hand?" It seemed a pretty interesting message to make part of yourself forever.

Gage smirked to himself as he shifted in his seat. "You'd be amazed at what types of tattoos I've gotten over the years. This particular one just happens to be a promise I've made."

Growing more curious, Layne's eyes roamed over his body while he drove. What other tattoos were hidden underneath all those clothes? "What type of promise?"

His voice grew more solemn. "To repay anyone who ever takes something from me again." In particular, to whoever had a hand in plucking his precious Rose from this lifetime.

All this time, he felt her eyes roaming over him and he suppressed the urge to look over at her and acknowledge it. The one thing he couldn't suppress was the way his cock twitched between his legs knowing he had her attention.

It didn't take much for the day to get away from them after several more stops checking in on a few establishments. There had been a variety of places on Layne's agenda, including a convenience store, a commercial real estate office, and the Brass Mirror.

After receiving several updates from Joey, it was clear that he was going to be lucky to wrap things up before the next morning's daybreak. Gage was far too happy to hear that his duties were still required well past the time frame he had expected.

Since it was beyond closing time at McGregor's, Layne figured she might as well get this awkward discussion out of the way with Sean to see if he was able to track down the accounting error she had discovered in his books.

Standing outside of the pub, she stopped and looked at Gage. "What are the chances of you staying out here so I can have this talk with Sean privately?"

He seemed to take a moment to mull over the response before he flatly responded. "None." Gage grinned as he leaned in, with his hand on the small of her back. "But, after this, I will take you home and you can tell me how close you want me." The innuendo was poorly hidden as the words held a husky purr to them.

"Keep dreaming." She stepped away from him and pulled on the front door to McGregor's. It didn't budge, the deadbolt already being turned. It was unusual for Sean to lock things up knowing she was stopping by. Fortunately, she had a copy of the key.

Flipping through each of her keys, she found the correct one and twisted it in the deadbolt. Letting herself inside, the place was cast in an unsettling pitch black. Sean had known she was coming, why would he have closed things up and left? Her hand reached over and flipped on the light switch that she knew was just to the left of the entrance.

The bar area lit up and exposed a horrific site before her. Bar stools were broken and cast aside, tables on their sides, glasses shattered, all the photos on the walls destroyed, and ultimate destruction had left no part of the front room of the pub untouched. Aggressive and angry red spray paint stained the back wall where the iconic McGregor's handmade sign and logo were still proudly on display.

Sprawled in all caps was a very clear message: BACK OFF BITCH. YOU'RE NEXT. Layne had a sick feeling expanding in the pit of her stomach. She carefully stepped over the trash scattered across the floor. "What the fuck?" Her words were barely audible even to herself.

Gage's head was on a swivel as he took in the devastating state of affairs in the same bar he had been in just earlier that day. "Layne, I don't like this." He kept close to her.

She chose to ignore him as she called out, "Sean? Sean, are you here?!"

When she made it to the back of the main area where the back room began, she reached a hand out to flip the switch to turn on that section of lights. Gage saw it before her brain registered the grotesque sight awaiting her discovery.

Despite his iron-like grasp snagging her backward and turning her into him, it was too late. The horror had already been captured by her vision. Sean's body hung from a blood-stained rope in the center of the backroom where her family had conducted so many meetings and negotiations over the years.

Adding insult to injury, Sean hadn't only been hanged but vertically ripped open leaving a sickening display of gore and guts pouring down the front of his body. Layne's brain had trouble reconciling the terrifying and grisly image, but once it did all she could hear was her scream ripping through the air. It couldn't have been Sean, it couldn't have been real, and it sure as hell couldn't have been a random and meaningless act of horrendous violence.

"Fuck." Gage's hand clasped to the back of her head making sure she didn't turn back to see any more than she already had. He had seen some sick shit before, but even with his iron stomach, this was one for the top of the charts leaving even him queasy.

Layne's scream against his chest made him ache to take away what she had just seen, wishing he could erase this memory for her. She may have been one hell of a badass woman, but she still had a soul deep inside of her that could hurt.

When her voice couldn't find any more sound to expel, her body began to tremble in his arms. Her form felt like it suddenly had no bones to support it, and Gage's strength was the only thing to prevent her from collapsing onto the floor.

"We need to get the fuck out of here." His arms easily supported her as he tried to walk her back to the front door. When he noticed her feet were unable to coordinate her movements, Gage leaned down and scooped her up with her legs draped over one arm and his other supporting her across her back. "I got you. Up you go, baby."

His hold was steadfast as he quickly navigated the destruction and got them both the hell out of there. If he could have driven without releasing his secure hold on her, he sure as shit would have done it. Instead, he managed to slide her into the front seat before taking up his spot behind the wheel.

Layne doubled over in her seat trying to fight through her heavy breaths as her face got buried in her hands. She had no doubts that the threatening note had been meant for her. The problem was figuring out who she was pissing off badly enough for them to send the type of message that was now burnt deep into her brain.