𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛

sixteen

The Ritter was packed. Droves of men all crowded against the bar trying to grab the attention of the two barmaids. A baby had just been christened down the road and they couldn't have thought of a better reason to start drinking at noon.

Tara realised she'd done well by herself convincing Jerry to hire some extra help. 

She propped a full pint on the bar for a customer. "Will you..." He paused, looking like he was about to throw up before he swallowed what must have been either bile or nerves. "Will you marry me?" A bright laugh burst from Tara's lips in response as she shook her head politely. The drunkard was practically slung over the bar, his eyes more closed than they were open, but a sleazy smile still lingered hopefully on his lips.

Sloane had been a nervous wreck when the army of men burst through the doors, eager for something warm to guzzle down their throats. Tara had muttered quickly to her. It was her ass on the line if Sloane panicked and did something unreasonable seeing as she'd gotten her the job in the first place.

Among the parade of men entering the bar, Tara caught eyes with a familiar face. He made a line straight towards the private cubby beside the bar, opening it to allow two other men to enter. She recognised one as the man who'd helped him subdue Billy when he'd come to look for her.

Almost as soon as the cubby door clicked shut, Jerry pulled her and Sloane aside, skilfully ignoring the persistent calls from over the counter. 

He raised a hairy finger to point at the cubby as he spoke in hushed tones. "As soon as you see them Devons walking in, you grab a drink before you do anything else. Irish whiskey, neat." 

Sloane nodded nervously, going to pour the drink, but Jerry clasped a hand around her shoulder to pull her back. "Anything you get them is on the house and if it's on the house you say nothing to who you're serving, understand?" He looked between the two Irishwomen, unrelenting until they showed comprehension.

In the brief silence before he resumed, Sloane attempted to move away and was less gently dragged back into the conversation again. 

"One more thing. If that window's closed," He pointed again at the cubby to the small opening that gave direct access to the tenders behind the counter. "You knock before you open it. I don't care if it sounds like the Somme in there, you knock before you open."

The two barmaids acknowledged Jerry with a tight nod, standing stiffly in wait just in case he had something else he wanted to say. Truthfully, the more rules Jerry put down for the family he'd named the Devons, the more inclined Tara was to staying as far away from them as she possibly could.

Everything they order is on the house? Knock before you open? Christ, if he'd put up a poster of 'Dangerous Individuals Inside', it still would have been less effective than those few rules he'd divulged.

He straightened up, standing tall over them both as he shooed them away. "Well go on, don't just stand there all day." Sloane let out a breath like she hadn't had one since her boss started speaking.

Jerry left them to attend to his back room, as he usually did now that he had his extra help to run the counters for him. Tara moved to pull another pint for the pent up crowd gathered in front while Sloane hesitated. "You're not going to..." She vaguely gestured to the ominously enclosed quarters beside the bar.

Tara shook her head once. "I've had enough of those Devons and I've only seen them once my whole life." She tilted her head in brief thought as the glass filled before adding on. "...one of them twice."

She served the beer and turned to present the cubby to Sloane flamboyantly. "You can do the honours, Madame Murphy."

Sloane shot an indignant look back at her, glancing apprehensively at the closed cubby window. She took a motivating breath and procured a bottle of Irish whiskey from the shelves to pour for the infamous Devon brothers.