Stormy Weather (Storm Donovan Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

mauled her breasts, and kissed her. They were gentle, but it was so wrong. The girl was so young, barely more than a child, and she was not just letting these men use her, she was begging for it.
    Donovan stepped further into the room and tried to look past the scene. There were more empty bottles, traces of white on the surfaces of furniture, several spliffs in more than one ashtray. There were strips of pills scattered across a table. One of the men stepped away and the girl looked up, begging him to stay with a moan. She caught his eye then and smiled at him. “You, lawyer man, come and take his place.” Donovan knew instantly she was drunk and high as a kite. He wanted to say something, but he was distracted by an angry voice to his right.
    “Keep your fucking hands off me,” the familiar voice said, angrily but quietly. Then there was the sound of a slap and seconds later the man groaned and buckled over. Donovan could see the woman now and smiled. “Ms. Walsh!” he greeted the woman with the olive glow enthusiastically. “Pleased to see you again! Though perhaps not the ideal setting.”
    “No, indeed. A pleasure, Mister Donovan.”
    Donovan nodded to the man gasping for breath. He had now dropped to the deck and lay in the fetal position, clutching his groin. Donovan looked at the man's eyes and knew he was in the same sort of state as his client. “He'd remember you for a long time if he was actually capable of forming memories at the moment.”
    Naomh Walsh smiled. “Indeed. What brings you here, Mister Donovan?”
    “Just call me Storm, or Donovan. Everyone calls me Donovan.”
    “Okay, Donovan. What brings you here? I somehow doubt you're here to partake in the pleasure of my client as well.”
    “Your client, Ms. Walsh?”
    Ms. Walsh nodded to the blonde girl still being screwed by the four men and seemingly thoroughly enjoying herself. “I do her PR. Clean her mess up amongst other things. And it's Naomh.”
    “Then we're in the same line of work, Naomh. I'm her attorney. Though looking at this mess, I might not be her attorney for much longer.”
    Naomh sighed. “Tried to break this thing up since I got here, but it's no use.” She inclined her head to the door. “She's got a good espresso machine in the kitchen. Might as well enjoy a cup of coffee while we wait for her to be done with this.”
    They went down to the kitchen where Naomh set about making them each a latté.
    “You've done this before,” Donovan remarked from his vantage point at the end of the big breakfast bar in the kitchen. He had sat himself down on a stool and just watched Naomh make the espressos and foam up the milk.
    “Got to do something when mademoiselle is entertaining.”
    “That's what it's called now, is it?”
    “Afraid so. She entertains more men, and women, than a cheap whore on an aircraft carrier.”
    Donovan grinned. “Eloquently spoken.”
    “Thanks,” Naomh said as she placed two mugs on the marble of the breakfast bar. She grabbed a pot of sugar from a shelf and sat down. She scooped a single spoon of sugar into her cup and stirred it gently. “So how long have you been her attorney?”
    “Actually, I'm the attorney of her agent. My firm has represented her agency since she started. And since last year, we represent her record label as well. So we were the obvious choice to deal with this.”
    “Who do you work for?”
    “I founded the firm, so I guess I'm working for myself.” Donovan took a sip of the coffee. “You really have done this before!”
    Naomh smiled and then winced as she heard a scream from upstairs. “Fuck, yeah!” the voice of Justine Lavoie squealed. Naomh muttered, “And to think she was this innocent young kid from Québec five years ago.”
    “Yeah, I remember.” Donovan thought on it for a moment. “Strange how so many of them end up like this. Not that I often get to see it this up close and personal... but I do have my eyes and ears open.”
    “It's insane. It's