Red. (Den of Mercenaries #1)(42)

Today was a good day for him judging by his attire—Jimmy dressed to fit his moods. He was more like the casual version of Liam than anything. He was in a pair of slim-fitting pants in a ruddy shade of brown, a chambray shirt, and a pair of oxfords. He had the same burnished red hair as she did, his cut low on the sides and in the back, left longer in the middle—as was the custom around these parts it seemed. He normally kept it styled the way he liked, but today, he left it free, strands of wavy hair falling in his face.

“What has you in such a good mood?” she asked as she eyed him, wishing she could read his body language as well as she could read his appearance.

He gave her an easy smile, shrugging a shoulder. “Is it wrong to be happy?”

“Of course not,” she said giving him a slight shove so she could take the chair he was sitting in. “But it’s you, so there’s probably more to the story.”

His lips turned down at the corners as he shrugged. “Fair enough. So where have you been?” He was good at avoiding questions by asking one of his own.

“With Liam.”

As easy going as Jimmy could be, when it came to Liam, he lost that easiness. As a brother would, he hated any boyfriend she had brought home for them to meet—them meaning her parents and brothers—even if there hadn’t been that many. And while they had all failed some test of his that only he knew, Jimmy had never warmed to Liam, not in the slightest. If anything, Jimmy outright detested him and didn’t bother hiding it.

If Liam noticed—and it would be hard for him not to—he never mentioned Jimmy except when it came to the pub. She didn’t even think he knew she had other brothers besides him.

But what he didn’t ask, she didn’t willingly offer.

“He’s a f*cking twat.”

“Jimmy…”

“You know I’m right. It baffles my mind that you even put up with him.” Jimmy’s phone chimed, breaking off his tirade as he reached for it, eyes scanning the text that had come in. But as quickly as his attention had been snatched, he gave it right back. His thumbs busy flying over the screen, he didn’t look up as he said, “Little bastard is going to learn he and his brother can’t—”

“Jimmy, don’t.” Even if they were having a private conversation in the back of the pub, she still didn’t want him talking that way. Sometimes it felt like the walls had ears. “Besides, Liam isn’t all bad.” That sounded like a lie even to her ears.

“The fact that you have to describe him as ‘not so bad’, there’s my answer.” Jumping to his feet, Jimmy grabbed his jacket, shrugging it on. “I’m going to check on ma. I’ll see you around.””

She was nodding, watching him leave until his words caught up to her. “What do you mean they’re going to learn? What are they going to learn?”

He kissed her cheek, heading for the door. “You’ll see.”

“Jimmy, don’t do anything stupid. Ma’ll be upset if she lost you because of something like this.”

She wouldn’t survive it, not like last time. And Jimmy knew better than anyone how fragile their mom could be. It wasn’t like they were the only ones there that day…

Without a response, however, Jimmy left.



* * *



Around three in the morning, when Reagan had sent everyone home for the night—including Bobby who’d left on his own after getting a phone call—she was busy wiping down the bar making sure that it shined when she heard the bell chime as the front door was opened, letting in a gust of cold air. She used beneath her breath, remembering too late that she had forgotten to lock it after the place had cleared out. Her hand tightening around the towel she held, she didn’t look up as she said, “We’re closed.”

This wouldn’t be the first time that something like this happened…and even those times had been easy enough to manage though she was on her own.

When seconds passed and she didn’t hear the door reopen, she tossed the rag down on the bar top. A reply ready on her lips, she looked up, but as she blinked and took in the person standing on the opposite side of the bar, those words died, because despite the years that had passed, there was no way that she wouldn’t recognize Niklaus.

A small part of her had wanted to believe that despite how very real and visceral his presence had been in her life for the mere weeks total that she had with him, he was merely a figment of her imagination. She hadn’t wanted to believe that he was real.

But now, there he stood. Merely a few feet away and she knew, even as she blinked a few times to make sure her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her, that he was real. Very real.

And for whatever reason, he had walked back into her life.

His gaze traveled from the top of her head to the toes of her shoes, making her feel terribly exposed, and while she had thought she would be unaffected by them considering the time that’d passed them by, it was definitely not the case. It was like she could feel his eyes on her like a physical touch, one that she was both desperately craving and wanted to get far away from. If there was one thing she knew about Niklaus, he was definitely the type of man she needed to avoid, if only so she didn’t fall back into the same feelings she once had.

When there was nothing but the bar separating them, he leaned onto it, making that space even smaller as the corner of his mouth tipped up, revealing that dimple in his left cheek. “That’s no way to treat an old friend.”