I spared him a slick cheek peck as I passed him, almost feeling bad for him. He looked like he understood, as he had earlier that day when I explained that he needed to stop calling me. Telling him that the sun had officially set on our day in the sun. Kyle was fine. Not in the looks sense of the word. I guess he looked fine. I guessed he was ok. Nothing great about his body or face. Nothing great about his job or car. Nothing great about his sense of humor or personality. The poor man didn't have a lick of tactical awareness... but he was ok... I guess. I slid past his friends at the pool table and made my way to the jukebox. I was skimming through hard rock options when I sensed him approaching. I didn't react as to not scare him away. Instead, I continued my scroll and acted as casual as possible until his shadow loomed over me.
"Would you like to dance?" I could smell the Guinness on his breath as it ghosted through my hair. But unlike Kyle, the alcohol on this man's irish tongue felt warm and inviting.
I ignored the goosebumps on my arms and pulled a gun on him, turning to jam it into his ribs and face him as intimidatingly as possible. Before I could speak, a smile tugged at the corner of his inviting lips.
"I'll take that as a yes...?" He chuckled smoothly.
I smirked and watched him guide the firearm back into my waistband and take my hands in his. Smooth criminal was the only thing that came to mind as I stared into his light blue eyes.
"Michael McBride." His deep voice made my chest clench.
"Fiona Glenanne." I answered. "Mr McBride, if you knew what was good for you, you'd be leaving me be."
"It's Michael." He whispered. "And maybe I don't care what good for me."
"Ok, then..." I reeled at his words, mentally noting Kyle and his goons getting to their feet at the sight off Michael and I dancing slowly. "It looks like my friend will be joining us."
"He'll leave us be, I think." He sounded as if he didn't care one way or another.
"If you were smart, McBride, You'd not be talking about it all willy nilly."
"It's Michael... and maybe if your little friend was smart, He'd be leaving us be."
I looked over and spoke to Kyle as he approached us. "Kyle, there won't be any trouble between the two of ya. You hear me?"
Kyle stopped and looked at Michael as he spoke. "Less than an hour Fiona? One man to another. Just like that?"
I shrugged. "You want trouble, we can have trouble, but you've got no business with McBride, You understand me?"
"Is he mute?" Kyle smirked. "Let the man speak for himself."
"Mcbride." I warned as Michael dropped my hand and turned to Kyle.
In a smooth, flick of his wrist, he had Kyle on his knees, yelling in pain from what looked to be a dislocated wrist. Michael held his injured wrist at an odd angle and made eyes at me, muttering. "It's Michael."
I smirked.
"Shall I break it then?" He asked, slightly amused.
"Not necessary." I shrugged again.
"Get lost then." Michael muttered at Kyle. "As soon as the lady changes her mind, I can appease her."
Kyle and his hoodlums scampered off to leave michael to turn to me slowly. He assessed my expression carefully. I sighed heavily and placed one hand on his chest, dragging him by his shirt out the back door to the dark alleyway.
"Fiona." He whispered into the night.
"You spoil me." I pressed him against the grimy brick wall and kissed his chest, standing on my tip toes to reach his neck. "I thought it was my winning smile." He held me by my arms and smirked.
I was getting the feeling he was holding back on me... not only not kissing me back, but also, smoothly holding my body at an angle so I couldn't continue my onslaught of sloppy smooches on his collar.
"You know... McBride..."
He interupted "Michael"
"Michael..." I smirked. "Violence... in some cultures... is considered... foreplay."
He laughed out loud.
"It's not that funny." I smiled up at him.
"You make me laugh"
I lifted an eyebrow, content to stare into his eyes for the moment. "You made my laugh." He repeated, using a different word. "So, I did."
We stood there in silence for a moment until his expression grew serious. "I wonder about you, Fiona Glenanne."
"What about me?"
He grabbed my hand and started leading me towards the lot of parked cars. "All of it."
I smiled, but faultered, looking at the truck we were approaching. "Are... you... okay to drive?"
He turned to face me, smiling openly. "Would you like to test me?"
His eyes were clear and not glassy at all. "No... I think I trust you." I paused. "Should I trust you?"
He laughed once. "God No! Never trust anyone."
I laughed, then met his gaze once more.
"Shall we?" He asked.
"We shall." I agreed, climbing into the passenger seat.
He pumped the heat in the cab of the truck and asked me strange questions about myself the whole drive to his apartment. The midnight air felt electric as I jumped from the truck to the gravel. "What your favorite food, Michael McBride?"
"Fettucinni and truffles." He held my hand, Leading me to the elevator.
I gaped at him. "Mine too!"
"Really?" He didn't seem as surprised as I was to find something in common with me.
"Have you had the alfredo dish at Ole Ma's"
"Of course." He smiled. "Its the best in northern Ireland"
I looked at him like he had changed my life. "When did you visit Belfast?"
"I live in Belfast." He laughed at my surprise. "This is just a loaner for a couple months."
I walked in after him, following him to the kitchen. "How did that come about?"
"I had to leave Belfast for a bit."
I smirked, knowingly. "Oh... a little heat on ya, is there?"
He smiled back, pouring me a glass of wine. "Yeah. Gotta get them off my back for a bit so I asked a friend if I could come down to Dublin for 6 months until the heat lets up."
"Not the authorities?"
He shook his head, pulling out a yogurt and offering me one. I shook my head.
"So, then who do you owe money to?" I asked.
"Nobody really." He grabbed a spoon and dug it into the blueberry yogurt. "I actually just sold a weapon to person A who used it to kill person B and now person B's associates have tracked down person A and he ratted on me like the bastard that he is, so now person A is dead. Person B is dead. And person B's associates are looking for me."
I blinked. "What makes you think that is something you should admit unilatterally to a girl you've just met?"
"I've a strong hunch you and I share the same job."
I blinked. "I don't follow."
"I've heard of a Glenanne who deals in big bad weapons to big bad boys."
I finished my wine and accepted the water bottle he offered. "That's Sean."
He started making a sandwich.
I was shocked at myself that I had just offered up that information. "I..."
He sensed my shock and turned to face me. "Don't be afraid, Fiona. Your secret is safe with me."
I blinked. "I don't know why I just shared that."
He shrugged. "Not worth losing sleep over. I'd have found it out eventually."
I accepted the sandwich he offered and nearly finished it in three bites. "Why's that?"
He crowded me against the counter and inhaled my scent. "You didn't think this was the last you'd see of me, did you?"
I smirked. "Oh.. a girl could hope."
I regarded me seriously. "I'm not done with you yet, Fiona Glenanne."
"That's good, Michael McBride because I too... am not done with you."
We talked well into the night, eventually making our way to the couch where he told me about jobs he'd done as an arms dealer. I was smitten by his tough hands and deep voice as well as his smooth criminal behavior and his well mussed hair. By the time morning sun shone through the livingroom window, I was sure of my feelings and I was sure of his. Michael McBride was gonna be the death of me. My past had been fun and he'd asked me about my past, but I didn't feel the need to elaborate on the past because of how much I was sure of our future. He eventually dismissed me with a polite kiss on the cheek and his phone number in my phone. I'd texted him immediately so he would have mine.
I actually wanted him to have mine. I wanted Michael to text me. I missed him already while sitting in my uber.
'Let me know when you arrive home safely, so I can sleep' Michael's text made me blush.
'Can you not sleep without knowing I'm safe, then? Isn't it too soon for us to be so attached?' I replied quickly.
'I don't know the meaning of the words too soon. What I do know is that my mindset is heavily relying upon your wellbeing, so, kindly be careful'
'I shall do as you ask, Michael McBride. I wouldn't want to cause a lack of sleep to come to you.'
'You can help me not sleep in other ways.' He caught onto my reference.
'I'll bet I could.'
'I'd bet more."
I smiled at my phone and didn't respond until my uber pullled into my apartment. "Thank you." I slipped out and let myself into my front door.
I was about to text Michael when Cheeto began screaming. My cat had aparently been waiting for dinner since the night before and I felt awful. I laid down his newly filled dish and changed his water. "Sorry, Cheeto."
I collaped into bed, feeling the effects of the alcohol after no longer being in Michael's intoxicating presence. After 10 minutes of staring at the ceiling, I was sure I wasn't going to be able to get any sleep yet, so I turned in the shower and began undressing. I was interrupted by my phone ringing in the other room. I ran in and answered, already apologizing.
"Michael! I forgot. I'm sorry." His relief was heard in his sigh. "Oh thank God."
I was silent for a few moments, realizing he was being truthful about my safety affecting his mindset. "That is an unhealthy amount of concern."
"I think it's a completely healthy amount of concern."
I shook my head. "Go to sleep, Michael."
"You too, Fiona."
I smiled and hung up.
"I love you." I whispered after I was sure the line was dead.
That was 8 months before he vanished.