Page 2 of Brendan (The Doherty Mafia)
I was a twenty-two year old mom, trying to keep two jobs that paid shit. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the door of the subway. I had to look away. I didn’t like what I saw.
I didn’t recognize myself. This was not the girl with dreams in her eyes.
But what about Davey? If I had all that—I wouldn’t have him.
And I wouldn’t have exchanged him for anything in the world. He was mine, and mine alone and I was going to keep it that way.
Me and my son against the world, and sometimes it did feel like the world was against us. Like we were at war, trying to survive. But we didn’t need anyone else, whatever happened. I wouldn’t make the mistake of bringing someone into our circle. Just like I hadn’t needed anyone else when I was little. It had always been me and Mom.
My life had come a full circle.
“You’re late!” Rocky complained when I rushed into the bar.
“I know, I’m sorry, I had to wait for the babysitter to arrive for my kid,” I said, while putting on my name tag.
The bar was already thumping and in full-swing for the night. Rocky didn’t care about my kid.
“If this keeps happening, we’re going to have a talk. Actually, scratch that. I’m not going to talk about it. You know what I’m sayin’.”
“Yes, I know, and I’m really trying here. Just cut me some slack. Okay?”
We were talking behind the bar while he mixed some drinks.
Rocky grunted in response. He didn’t have time for my excuses. Instead, he turned around and handed me the drinks.
“Table fourteen,” he growled, giving me a hard long stare.
I weaved my way around people who were standing and swaying and talking loudly. I hated working there. This wasn’t the career I had in mind.
I did morning shifts at a diner nearby, which didn’t help either. Both jobs were the kind where I wasn’t treated as a respectable member of the community. I was a waitress. I worked for tips. I had to smile and be polite, usually when I didn’t want to.
I walked up to the table with the drinks. A group of men sat around the table, leering at me when I went to them. I knew what they were thinking—they were trying to assess if they could grab my ass.
“Haven’t seen you around here before,” one of the guys said as I leaned over the table to place all the drinks.
When I worked this shift, I was constantly aware of the fact that my body was available to these men. Whether I liked it or not.
“I’ve been working here a few months,” I forced myself to respond. If I didn’t make an effort, I wasn’t getting tipped—and tips were what I relied on.
“I would have noticed a thing like you,” he said, staring directly at my ass now. I stepped away from the table quickly but he caught my hip and pulled me closer to him.
“Anything else I can get you boys?” I tried to keep it casual, trying my best to hide how much they made my skin crawl. The other guys smirked like I was putting on some kind of show for them.
“You could come sit on my lap, sweetheart,” he added.
“I have to get back to work or I’m going to lose my job,” I said, pulling away from him. He held on tightly, refusing to let go.
“I’ll give you a job. I promise I’ll make it worthwhile,” he replied and his friends broke into a fit of laughter.
It got harder for me to keep the smile on my face.
“I hope you boys have a nice night, but I really have to go now,” I tried again. This time he yanked me to him and I fell on him. His thick arms wrapped around me as he kept me pinned in place.
And I knew that even if I screamed, nobody would hear me over the loud music playing in the bar. More importantly, nobody would care.
Two
Brendan
Tristian and I stood at the bar, each of us was nursing a beer. Both of us were tired. We had a long day in the city and the meeting had drained us. This war with Aldo Baron was messing up our business everywhere. Our father had sent Tristian and I to meet with our associates here so we could convince them to stay on our books.
It took a lot of convincing.
The Dohertys and the Barons were the big players in New York. Everyone knew that. And nobody wanted to get in the middle of a feud between the two families. They didn’t want to piss either of us off. So the sooner the war ended, the better it would be for both parties—but Aldo Baron didn’t see it that way.
