Page 3 of Cillian

Darragh’s—a place co-owned by an uncle on my mother’s side and Oisín—my late father, was the best place to make my time back feel official. Unbeknownst to me, the entire neighborhood had planned for my release, as a big welcome was waiting for me by the time we’d even walked into the pub.

“Rounds for Cillian on me!” various voices around me, some familiar, some new to me roared all over the pub.

“Is that Cilly? Littly Cilly?” A middle-aged woman with a heavy Old Country accent, emphasized my growth spurt. When I went in, I was only five-foot-five. In the time my family stopped coming, I’d grown well over six-feet.

“Not so little anymore,” I shrugged, reaching for a hug. It was hard not noticing all the pretty lasses sitting nearby at several booths in walking distance.

Leaning on the back of one of the booths, I flashed a smile and proceeded with, “Ladies,” met with coyness and the type of giggles a man like me went wild for, especially after a three-year bid.

My eyes went from the dark-haired lass to the blonde one. I wasn’t as attracted to her but she was a safer choice, as Oisín’s words were still stuck in my head after all this time. Go for them blonde and dumb. Which was odd given his forty-year marriage to our mum, a ginger.

“So which one of you ladies want to give me a?—”

“Cilly, come on. Get some food in you, there'll be plenty of time for that type of thing.” Tadhg forcibly plucked me from my seat.

“Why you trying to ruin my play? A man’s got needs, you know?”

Paddy sat opposite of me, leaning in to intervene. “Trust us. We're doing you a favor. The blonde may look innocent, but last time I heard, she’s got the clap. Or at least that’s what the last man that’s been with her would say.”

“Let me guess. You’re that last man?”

“I never said I was perfect,” Paddy joked. Without a moment’s notice, Darragh laid a jug down at our table, dipping each mug inside to fill them generously.

“Welcome, lad. Can't say how good it is to see you on the outside.”

“Good to be on the outside,” as one swig of my stout made me instantly want to fall back and finish the whole jug on my own.

“We got something cooked up real nice for you.”

“Aw, you shouldn't have,” Paddy interrupted, like he'd been talking to him.

“I'm fucking starving. I want my energy up for when I drain my balls in a lucky lass tonight,” I joked, which was met with an immediate silence and uncomfortable shift in posture from my brothers. Why were they acting so strange?

“We got you set up in a penthouse suite,” Bellamy changed the subject. “Figured you’d want privacy after three years away.”

If I hadn't already been suspicious of my brothers that should have given me pause. My brothers had never trusted me to live alone. I'd always either lived at home with Mum and Pa. When things got tense—when I became Oisín’s personal punching bag—I’d stay with Bellamy just to heal up.

“Oh yeah? Where at?” I asked, letting my hunger hide my suspicions.

“Stormridge,” Paddy answered.

“Stormridge? But that’s close to Black territory.”

“But it ain’t Black territory. Its…diverse,” Bellamy dismissed. “We think you’ll like it,” he insisted.

Before I could blink, plates of traditional Irish food were put before me, forcing any foreboding signs away. Tearing my teeth into soda bread for the first time in years, was as sweet as making love to a new woman for the first time. Shit, maybe even a second time.

Warm, savory mixtures of carrot and mutton forced me back home in our birth city of Cork where I had been lucky enough to reside until I was six.

“The food must be good, huh?” Bellamy taunted.

“I've been fucking craving it,” I said, washing it down with a gulp of Guinness. “Only thing that could top it is bringing a lass back to this so-called place of mine?—”

“What is with you and pussy today? You can't enjoy a day out with your brothers?” Paddy wasn't the oldest, but he sure did hold whatever privilege he had over me.

“You'd have a one-track mind if the only thing you've been fucking was your hand for three years.”

“You don't want anything or anyone here, Cilly,” Tadhg interrupted, ripping off a piece of the lamb of the plate in front of him. “Just eat your food and take the day, one moment at a time.”

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