Jonny Parsons could see the need in her face; she wanted a fight, she wanted a scene, and suddenly he wasn’t sure he wanted to be a part of that. As drunk as he was, he knew this could only bring him untold aggravation. She was a Flynn, after all – Michael’s daughter – and that fact alone was enough to sober him up, and remind him of why he had sought her out in the first place. She was even more fucked up than he had believed and, from what he had heard, she was a real fucking headcase. But she wasn’t worth dying for.

He threw her away from him angrily, aware that she wanted him to hurt her. She would always insist on being the star of her own show. It was pathetic. She was a good-looking young woman, but she was dangerous and vindictive. A deadly combination.

‘You destructive fucking bitch, you want me to hit you, don’t you? You want me hurt you, stoop down to your level. But I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction. You’re not worth a fucking slap – you’re not worth the aggravation.’

He walked away from her unsteadily, and Jessie watched him warily. She had asked for that, she had pushed him too far. It was what she did. She pushed everyone to the limit. She loathed people like him, who saw her as nothing more than a stepping stone into her father’s life, who thought that, by fucking her, they would somehow get Michael Flynn into the bargain. It grieved her, knowing that her only real value as a person was her name. She leant back against the wall once more and, closing her eyes tightly, she breathed in the cold night air for a few minutes, steadying her heartbeat, and trying to calm her nerves.

If only they knew the truth – that she was the kiss of death where her father was concerned. He loathed the men that she attracted; he saw them for the pieces of shit they really were. She did too, if she was really honest with herself. Not that she let that stop her, of course. She went out of her way to humiliate her father – he deserved everything he got.