Page 55 of Player
“Finn, don’t. He’s a giant.”
I arch an eyebrow at her. “Have you so little faith?”
Her lips part in horror, quick on the uptake. I roll my shoulders then my neck while shifting back and forth on my feet, loosening up my muscles. The best place to give the lads a taste of Finn McDuff is in the back room, inside the fight club. Out here, things can head south quickly with the glass pints and all. But as they say, when feckin’ opportunity knocks ...
“I can’t watch this.”
“Then close yer eyes and count to ten.” I ever so slowly turn his way, mulling over which choice words are best suited for the occasion. I settle on a simple insult. “He’s a right bollocks, isn’t he?”
I shove Clarissa behind me as Golden-grin erupts. Catching his punch in my hand, I squeeze my fingers around his fist and force him a few steps backward and away from my beour. When I position him where I want him, I do the unexpected and slap his face. His cheek turns Union Jack red.
Surprised rage fills his ugly mug.
“That slap was in case you were missing yer mam’s loving touch.”
“I’m going to destroy you,” he snarls.
I can’t help but grin. But before we get off to the races, a bell rings out and interrupts us.
Bloody hell. I missed getting my name on the lists.Suddenly annoyed for wasting time with this tool and feeling pressured to correct my mistake, I jab and throw a well-aimed punch to his chin, knocking him clear off his feet and onto his arse. He falls backward like a man three sheets to the wind. I don’t waste any more time on the gobshite.
I grab Clarissa’s hand and tuck her into my side. “Time to hustle.”
“Hustle?” she gasps. “Finn, you knocked him out.”
With the mot in tow, I barrel through the masses and toward the back room. But not before feeding her the simplest of lies she can add to her list, once she figures out the extent of the bullshite I’ve been feeding her. She’s a smart one. Eventually, she’ll do just that. If all goes according to plan, I’ll be out of her life by then.
“Lucky punch.”
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