sounding like a Brit to the manor born,
he’d told her,
and expect them to welcome you with open arms.
Digging in his pocket for the twenty-five cents, he said, “Sorry ‘bout what happened to your brother.”
“Did you know him?” Finn asked.
“No, but I—”
“No, you don’t, Boyle,” Finn growled as a grubby, boozy-smelling behemoth tried to squeeze through the doorway past Nell and Will. He pounced on Boyle with surprising alacrity, given his bulk, and seized him by his suspenders.
“But I ain’t so bollocksed now,” Boyle said in a heavily slurred brogue, trying to pry Finn’s grip loose as he was shoved out of the door and onto the sidewalk. “And I din’ really hurt her, not so’s she’d feel it tomorrah. I won’ do it again, I swear.”
“Not tonight, you won’t.” Finn gave the interloper a rough shove, sending him stumbling backward into the lamp post. The crowd loitering on the sidewalk hooted with laughter.
Finn said, “You know the rules, Boyle. Once I give you the heave-ho, you’re out for the night. Come back tomorrow and don’t give the chippies no trouble, and maybe I’ll let you stay.”
“Och, Finn, be a good lad,” Boyle implored as he lurched back toward the door, straightening his coat. “Lemme back in, jus’ fer tonight, and I swear on me dear departed mum’s—”
He broke off with a grunt as Finn grabbed him by the collar and rammed his left fist into his gut, doubling him over. The onlookers, appreciating the impromptu floor show, whooped and cheered. A second punch, this one to the head, dropped Boyle in a groaning heap on the sidewalk, blood streaming from his nose.
Nell instinctively stepped forward, ready to intervene, as Finn aimed a booted foot at the fallen man’s midsection, but Will pulled her back, tucking her behind him. “Bad idea,” he said quietly, but she could tell from his stance of coiled readiness that he was prepared to step in himself if need be.
The kick connected with a muffled crunch and a roar of pain.
Turning to leave, Finn said, “Not another word from you, you hear?”
“Christ Jaysus,” Boyle rasped, clutching his stomach.
Wheeling around, Finn dealt the big man another kick, then brought his boot down on Boyle’s throat and kept it there, making him gag and thrash. Leaning over, he asked, with studied calm, “Now, what did I say? ‘Not another word.’ That means you close that flappin’ jaw of yours and keep it closed. Got it?”
A gurgle rose from Boyle’s throat as he stared, bug-eyed, at his tormenter.
“Got it?” Finn repeated, bearing down with his foot.
Boyle nodded jerkily.
Finn kept it up another few seconds, regarding his victim with undisguised contempt, before easing up and backing away. “Get him out of my sight,” he told no one in particular. Several men scrambled to do his bidding as he turned back to Will, holding out a big, scarred hand, palm up. “Two bits.”
Will paid him, shoved his cap into a pocket of his jacket, and guided Nell into the saloon. “So. Finn Cassidy bounces as well as boxes.”
“Bounces?”
“Keeps order, throws out the trash. No small task in a place like this.”
“That doesn’t give him the right to such savagery.”
“Such savagery is a nightly occurrence in places like this,” said Will, “a fact of which Mr. Boyle was certainly well aware when he did whatever it was he did to get him ejected in the first place. More to the point, though, if I’d allowed you to call Finn Cassidy on the carpet for exercising his professional responsibilities as he sees fit, how willing do you think he would have been to grant us entrance to this place?”
“I know, but...” Nell shuddered, remembering the sickening crunch of those ribs. She’d softened over the years. Back when she was part of this world, or one very like it on Cape Cod, she’d had a thicker skin. On the one hand, it shamed her that she couldn’t handle things she used to be able to. On the
he’d told her,
and expect them to welcome you with open arms.
Digging in his pocket for the twenty-five cents, he said, “Sorry ‘bout what happened to your brother.”
“Did you know him?” Finn asked.
“No, but I—”
“No, you don’t, Boyle,” Finn growled as a grubby, boozy-smelling behemoth tried to squeeze through the doorway past Nell and Will. He pounced on Boyle with surprising alacrity, given his bulk, and seized him by his suspenders.
“But I ain’t so bollocksed now,” Boyle said in a heavily slurred brogue, trying to pry Finn’s grip loose as he was shoved out of the door and onto the sidewalk. “And I din’ really hurt her, not so’s she’d feel it tomorrah. I won’ do it again, I swear.”
“Not tonight, you won’t.” Finn gave the interloper a rough shove, sending him stumbling backward into the lamp post. The crowd loitering on the sidewalk hooted with laughter.
Finn said, “You know the rules, Boyle. Once I give you the heave-ho, you’re out for the night. Come back tomorrow and don’t give the chippies no trouble, and maybe I’ll let you stay.”
“Och, Finn, be a good lad,” Boyle implored as he lurched back toward the door, straightening his coat. “Lemme back in, jus’ fer tonight, and I swear on me dear departed mum’s—”
He broke off with a grunt as Finn grabbed him by the collar and rammed his left fist into his gut, doubling him over. The onlookers, appreciating the impromptu floor show, whooped and cheered. A second punch, this one to the head, dropped Boyle in a groaning heap on the sidewalk, blood streaming from his nose.
Nell instinctively stepped forward, ready to intervene, as Finn aimed a booted foot at the fallen man’s midsection, but Will pulled her back, tucking her behind him. “Bad idea,” he said quietly, but she could tell from his stance of coiled readiness that he was prepared to step in himself if need be.
The kick connected with a muffled crunch and a roar of pain.
Turning to leave, Finn said, “Not another word from you, you hear?”
“Christ Jaysus,” Boyle rasped, clutching his stomach.
Wheeling around, Finn dealt the big man another kick, then brought his boot down on Boyle’s throat and kept it there, making him gag and thrash. Leaning over, he asked, with studied calm, “Now, what did I say? ‘Not another word.’ That means you close that flappin’ jaw of yours and keep it closed. Got it?”
A gurgle rose from Boyle’s throat as he stared, bug-eyed, at his tormenter.
“Got it?” Finn repeated, bearing down with his foot.
Boyle nodded jerkily.
Finn kept it up another few seconds, regarding his victim with undisguised contempt, before easing up and backing away. “Get him out of my sight,” he told no one in particular. Several men scrambled to do his bidding as he turned back to Will, holding out a big, scarred hand, palm up. “Two bits.”
Will paid him, shoved his cap into a pocket of his jacket, and guided Nell into the saloon. “So. Finn Cassidy bounces as well as boxes.”
“Bounces?”
“Keeps order, throws out the trash. No small task in a place like this.”
“That doesn’t give him the right to such savagery.”
“Such savagery is a nightly occurrence in places like this,” said Will, “a fact of which Mr. Boyle was certainly well aware when he did whatever it was he did to get him ejected in the first place. More to the point, though, if I’d allowed you to call Finn Cassidy on the carpet for exercising his professional responsibilities as he sees fit, how willing do you think he would have been to grant us entrance to this place?”
“I know, but...” Nell shuddered, remembering the sickening crunch of those ribs. She’d softened over the years. Back when she was part of this world, or one very like it on Cape Cod, she’d had a thicker skin. On the one hand, it shamed her that she couldn’t handle things she used to be able to. On the
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