Manumission

Chapter 14

"Well, if it isn't the Dalai himself."

"You starting to sound like Mick," Ryan grumbled as he slid onto the barstool and popped a stale peanut into his mouth, keeping his eyes averted from the backlit rows of bottles behind the counter.

"Don't be so fuckin' daft," Connor grinned back at him, nodding to the bartender who took the cue and poured two tumblers of Jameson. Connor slid one over to Ryan, who slid it back.

"Oh, so you're a dry-shite too now?"

"Thought I'd give it a go," Ryan shrugged.

"More for me, then." Connor consolidated the drinks into one tumbler and shot the bulk in one gulp. "This must be torture for you, huh?"

"Now that you mention it."

Connor wiped a hand across his mouth and leaned back, observing Ryan.

"You're not as much fun sober, I'll say that. Or did prison knock the jolly outta ya?"

Ryan hadn't liked this man when he was eighteen and he liked him even less now.

"Listen, Doyle, I'm just here to find my-"

"Whoa there, young mule. You might be a teetotalin' arse, but you're in no place to jump straight to business like so." Connor waved over the bartender. "Get me a pint of Smithwicks and a Roy Rogers for Dalai here."

"Make that a soda and lime," Ryan growled.

Connor howled with laughter and clapped Ryan on the back as Ryan did his best to refrain from twisting Connor's arm behind his back and snapping it.

"Ten years of prison, and you're still riled so easily. Relax, lad." He took a long drink of his ale and set it back on the bar. "Now. What is it you're in such an all-fired hurry to speak with me about?"

Ryan itched to walk out the door right then and forget any nonsense of taking help from this snake.

"Speak up, Dalai!"

"It's my niece. She's missing."

"Missing," Connor drew out doubtfully.

"Yeah. Missing," Ryan punctuated with a glare. He inhaled slowly and started again. "She was taken away from my sister and tossed into the system and I haven't seen or heard from her since. They won't tell me where she is or let me contact her."

"On account of you being a felon, no doubt."

Ryan bristled.

"I may be a felon, but I'm her next of kin and I've gone through all the listed steps to get her back. Or to at least see her. They're giving me one hell of a runaround and that gets my hackles up."

"You think they're hiding something?"

"Wouldn't be the first time," Ryan mumbled, spinning the depressingly dry tumbler around in its puddle of condensation.

"And just why do you want this girl back so badly?"

"Excuse me?" Ryan fixed him with a cold stare at the suggestive tone.

Connor's lips tilted into a sly grin. "She real cute, this kid?"

Ryan's eyes flashed and he was off the barstool before he could stop himself, a fistfull of Connor's shirt in hand before he registered the barrel of a handgun sticking into his back. As he released the infuriatingly tranquil man, a hand shoved him back down onto his seat. Connor straightened his collar and chuckled.

"There's the Dalai who earned his name."

The gun was removed from his back and Ryan didn't have to look behind him to know that Doyle's thug had only backed up marginally.