Daydreamer Meaning (Book 3 in the daydreamer trilogy)

Chapter 7

Chapter 7  

"WHAT THE HELL IZZIE?"  

We have landed hard and I'm slightly winded as I lift my body from the ground and search for Mo, he's not happy, I find him in a tangled heap on the floor with Regan, he is groaning and mutters something I can't make out as Regan offers his hand to help the man from the floor. Mo repeats his earlier question while staring doe eyed at me, but I can't tear my eyes away from the familiar building behind him, he hasn't see it yet, it seems like years since I have been here, but in reality it has only bee about 7 month. I'm shocked to realise in that time I have rekindled a relationship with my dead brother, found my soul mate and future husband, given birth to twins and managed to form escape death twice, along with everything else that has happened, how the hell am I still breathing!

  Mo realises immediately where he is, this street is his second home, it would be rude not to know every crack in the sidewalk, every brick in the neighbouring buildings. He turns slowly and staggers as he sees what I am seeing, his bar, the bar he shares and co owns with his only son, the bar I have worked in and become to see as a second home over the past two years. My stomach tightens and my heart aches for my old life for just a split second, until my eyes graze over Regan and I snap at my conscience, I would go through everything again if I had to, I would not give up my children and Regan ever!  

Mo walks up to the locked front doors of the bar and gingerly strokes the brass handle on the lock, he shivers and the cool march breeze brushes over his bare arms, I realise only then that  he is wearing a vest and thin linen trousers. My hand connects with his shoulder as he tries the door, I know it's locked so I'm not disappointed, plus we both know there is a key under the pot round the back. Regan silently follows us to the side alley behind the bar. I let Mo retrieve the key and unlock the door that leads to the hallway holding the door to his office and the lockers the I used to store my belongings. we have to cut through the kitchen to get to the bar, where I assume Mo is heading to get himself a stiff drink.  

Regan is now sat opposite Mo at a warn wooden table tot he left of the bar, he is tense as Mo pours himself a third shot of whiskey and knocks it back, he offers Regan a shot and he politely declines for a fourth time, before he can pour a fourth shot and become completely useless in a drunken haze I stride over and swipe the bottle from his grasp, he groans and attempts feebly to retrieve it, all of a sudden he looks old and warn, nothing like my old boss from no so long ago, but more like a warn out worried middle aged man, a guilty lump forms in my throat, the strain of knowing the existence of the supernatural is something I have taken from granted, it is obviously so much harder for out loved one. I set the bottle out of reach on the bar and lightly take a stool to Mo's right.

"Why did you bring me here Izzie, if it's not to get drunk?"  

Mo's says through a chuckle, but Neither Regan or I miss the worry and fear in his question, to be honest I have no idea why we came here, I only know something or one was drawing us here, and I have a distinct feeling it has to do with Mickey, it all must be torture for Mo, seeing his old life so close but not being able to enjoy it, knowing he will not be staying for long and instead will have to go back to agonising and waiting to be told he is safe to leave my fathers home. Regan twitches across from me and I open the link.  

"We need to tell him Izzie, and I don't like the feeling I have about this place, who was that calling to us?"  

He stares at Mo all the while having a conversation with me, Mo is patiently waiting an explanation that I can't give and Regan is pushing for answers I don't have either. I close the link and Regan scowl slightly making Mo sigh loudly, he stands and heads to the back of the bar, I automatically stand to stop him from grabbing the whiskey again but he walks right past it and lifts the latch to the bar to get behind it. He bends out of sight for a few minute's the only sound in the room is of him rummaging for something. When he does reappear a small sad smile morphs is lips. He looks slightly younger again. Mo's hands clutch a bundle of envelopes, they looks stressed and old , like they have been read and re read a million times, as he sits back at the table he throws them and they scatter over the surface spraying in all directions, there's at least twenty envelopes, all scrolled in the same black ink and holding a good few sheets of paper within them, the sound of liquid pouring has me zoning in on the sneaky man as he knocks back another shot of whisky, how I didn't see him swipe the bottle is a mystery to me and has me distracted enough to not notice that Regan's face has paled and hardened,