Page 15 of Cillian

“Come on, Cillian all you need is some time. It’s barely been a day. The lass, she'll come around,” Bellamy interjected.

“I know what I promised you but if I don't get some pussy soon, I'm gonna go prime fucking mental.” Bellamy rolled his eyes.

“You’re so fucking stubborn. Just promise me you won't go poking about with that one girl you used to chat up. What was her name? Niamh?” My brows pressed together confused.

“And what's wrong with Niamh?”

“What's wrong with Niamh?” He asked, followed by a slap at the back of my head. “You want to know what’s wrong with Niamh? The girl is a gold digger and has shagged half of Boston since your sentence.”

“Yeah, well, I never liked the girl because she was good. She just did all the fucked-up shit I liked and if she's been around town, it means she ain't gonna make me work for it.”

“Hell,” Paddy said, taking a long drag of his cigar. “He's definitely onto something.”

Tadhg rolled his eyes, pointing to his pocket as Bellamy pulled a condom from his waistcoat.

“Do the smart thing and strap up with the lass. If you're going to be daft and desperate, just don't bring nothing home to your wife. And oh yea, don't bloody kill anybody. We got lucky with your Mrs’. Second witness might not be so forgiving.”

***

How I found myself outside the door of an old flames’ flat had brought me to an all-time low. Calling her an old flame was generous. She was more like, the one I came back to because it didn't take much convincing to get her to go to bed with me.

Maybe she fancied me, maybe I’d ignored the signs of her wanting more, but she never seemed to mind when I didn't stick around to cuddle afterwards. After a quick knock on the door, I could hear rustling inside and the sound of a door chain sliding as the door slowly creaked open.

With ocean blue eyes and dark contrasting hair, the presence of a deep scowl adjusted what I had once remembered to be girly features.

“What do you want?” She said, opening the door slightly ajar.

“What do you mean what do I want? It's me, Cillian. You haven't seen me in ages, and that's the way you greet me? Did you know I was out?” She rolled her eyes.

“I did.”

“And you're not happy to see me?” I said laying the Sullivan charm on thick.

“Why would I be? Heard you went on and married one of those Colored girls. You’re pretty much tainted now.” Anger curled its way internally, as I fought the temptation to push her inside so that all of Boston didn’t have to know all of my business.

“Come on, you know how it is with my family. My brothers forced me to marry her. It's not like I did it for love.

“And that's why you're here? Because you love me?” I smiled, hoping that that was enough to let me in.

“I mean, you're the one I always come back to. That’s gotta mean something, right?” I said, leaning in, only for her to inch the door further closed.

“Yeah, well that's stops today. I hear Blacks carry all these diseases and I already got enough going on, on my end.” This time, I slid my fist into the wall.

“Come on, Niamh. I haven't even touched my wife. Soon as I was able, I came straight to see you.” She took an exasperated sigh, slamming the door wishing me a good night. “Oh, fuck off, Niamh. You think you're the only slag in Boston who wouldn’t love whoring herself out to a Sullivan? Your tits weren't even that big anyways, and you lay there like a hyper fish caught on a hooker.”

“Go home to your wife, Cilly.”

“Fuck off,” I argued back. It was still early enough that if I took the next train to Dorchester, I could stop by Carol's place and see if she still took a liking towards me. The blonde was always sweet on me and even though she had a steady, from time to time she needed something darker and more exciting, and I was just the man she broke all her rules for.

Only when I got to her flat, I had another door slammed on me, and for some reason as Niamh. For marrying who my daft brothers forced me to marry. If they knew, it was spreading around town, already giving me a bad reputation. The irony was, I hadn't even touched Elizabeth. Not that she’d let me.

Did my brothers consider how this would affect me? No. For months they sat around making decisions about my life, and like a lapdog loyal to his master, I was forced to grin and follow. Tadhg said it would be different under his command, but it was feeling more or less the same as when Oisín barked the orders.

I stopped in the middle of the street, not ever thinking I'd be desperate enough to go to where my mind eventually considered. Frustrated and empty, I was at a point where it hardly made a difference where I emptied my mickey. I hailed the next cab to South Boston to a brothel my dad used to take me to when I was a lad. I remember the dread that came over me coming here, but now I just needed to blow off some steam and a pint and starting a bar fight just wasn't gonna cut it.

The brothel smelled of booze and sex. Topless lasses running around by hopeless men who hid their true natures to society. By the looks of things, I didn't quite see what I wanted but as a woman in charge approached me, she seemed to have a keen eye for variety.

“You look like you're in need of a good time. I've got slim girls, I've got curvy girls, I've got blondes and brunettes, even a nice selection of gingers.” She lowered her voice to whisper the next thing but unfortunately, it didn’t interest me in either. “I've even got girls with attached equipment. And because of the high requests I get for them, girls that are with child and lactating. What can I interest you in?”

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