The McGilley Trilogy
The McGilley Trilogy
Brett McGilley was greeted with the loud beat of old time rock and roll music as he entered Colin's club and immediately felt his tension from a long grueling week in court ease as he made his way to the bar. Casey's, named after his, Colin's and Donovan's father, boasted its typical Saturday night crowd. Acknowledging people he knew with a nod or a wave, he waded through the throng until he got to the circular bar in the middle of the room manned by his brother, Colin.
His pro bono work as an advocate for child welfare and spousal abuse was emotionally draining at times but infinitely rewarding when he won justice for a neglected or abused child or woman as he did today. Knowing Sheila Monroe's scumbag of an abusive ex was going to prison for a good long while and his children no longer had to live in fear of their own father made the hours he had put in on this case worthwhile. Right now he needed a stiff drink to wash away the distaste of dealing with such scumbag.
"Congratulations." Colin greeted him by setting down a glass of his favorite bourbon from Knob Creek distilleries and thumping him on the back. "You haven't lost your touch big brother."
"Thank God, otherwise I might have been tempted to take matters into my own hands." Saluting him with his drink, Brett added, "Thanks, I needed this," before sipping the smooth liquor, savoring the smooth way it went down. "Donovan upstairs?"
"Yeah, said he needed to relieve some tension after dealing with the newer hires during foaling. Apparently college hasn't changed much since we attended. Young guys fresh out of high school still want to spend more time partying and screwing around than working and keeping their grades up."
"He'll have them sweating and loving it within a month and then they'll be too tired to party and screw around." Donovan's love of horses and the outdoors made him the logical choice out of the three of them to take up the reins of their father's two hundred fifty acre horse breeding farm that they all inherited after Casey McGilley's death in a small airplane accident five years ago. Even though Brett and Colin pitched in whenever possible, the stables required several full time employees as well as providing jobs for college students. The three of them had grown up in those stables, worked and played around the prized American Saddlebred horses since they could walk and could all agree that the hard work provided a satisfying outlet for young men who had a tendency to get into trouble if left on their own.
"You've got a good crowd tonight." Brett swiveled sideways on his stool so he could easily scan the crowd, a good number of them on the dance floor. His gaze skimmed over most of them until his attention was caught and snared by a girl who looked barely old enough to be in there legally. Long, wavy black hair whipped around a laughing attractive face as she spun and gyrated to the fast beat that the younger crowd preferred. She had kicked off her shoes sometime after entering the club, which, by the way she was moving, was a good thing. Dancing like that in heels could have been as detrimental to her safety as her dancing was to his libido. A quick twirl made her calf length, multi colored skirt flare out around her, revealing long, bare legs. She seemed totally oblivious to the lustful stare of her dance partner as he leered openly at the way her full, braless breasts swayed under her bright yellow halter top. Irritated with himself for lusting after a kid twenty years younger than him, he forced his attention away and turned back around to find Colin grinning mockingly.
"She's a sight for sore eyes, isn't she?"
Colin's grin widened at something the girl did, but Brett refused to turn back around. "She's a fucking kid, Colin."
Shrugging, Colin replied, "Old enough to be in here and drink. You know I'm careful about I.D. checks."
Colin had spent over ten