Page 25 of The Warlord

Before Fallon could step onto the dancefloor, I tugged on her hand and pointed to the restroom. She gave me a thumbs up, and I turned, intent on detouring right out the front door, but stopped when Fallon caught up with me.

“I thought you had to go to the loo,” she yelled into my ear.

Fuck.“I do.”

“I need to go, too. They’re over here.” She tugged me forward until we hit the hallway, where another five women were already waiting to relieve themselves.

We waited in silence for a few moments before I asked, “What do you do for work, Fallon?”

“I’m at nursing school,” she replied. “First year of study.”

“That’s great. How’s it going?”

“So far? Good. I’m sure things will get more difficult as the course goes on.”

I nodded and shuffled up in the line.

“And what about you? You’re Finnan’s fiancé? How did you all meet?”

“We didn’t,” I replied. “I was sold to him.”

Fallon pursed her lips. “I know what my brother does to make money. For a long time, I wasn’t okay with it, but I realized that everything he does, he does it for the clan… and for me. To some of the men in this town, the clan is the only family they have. I mean, it’s mine and Grayson’s only family, so although I don’t agree with the things they do, I know it’s for the benefit of the clan and everyone in it.”

What she was saying wasn’t a foreign concept to me. My father had been the same way for a while. The members of the mafia were family.

“Finnan is a hard man, but he’s also fair. He’d never mistreat you, but his patience isn’t unending. If you push him too far, he will push back eventually.”

The line moved up again. “He’s like a lot of the men back home then. They have an antiquated way of looking at women. Their role is to have babies and look after the family.”

“And the man’s is to provide. It’s the same here,” Fallon said. “All I’m saying is that it could be worse.”

Another half step along the wall and I was next. I peered up the hallway to see that there was a men’s restroom a couple of feet away, then what appeared to be a janitor’s closet. This was a dead end.

The restroom door opened, and I slipped inside the single cubicle, locking it behind me. There wasn’t a window in there—nowhere for me to go. I didn’t need to use the restroom, so I flushed after an appropriate amount of time, washed my hands, and stepped outside. Fallon smiled at me and stepped in, leaving me alone.

Now was my chance.

Bodies pressed against me as I pushed through, making a path to the door. Freedom was so close that I could smell the fresh air. Before I left, I risked one more glance over my shoulder. Nobody was there. I’d done it.

I stepped out…

… and ran straight into a firm body.

The scent of sandalwood and leather hit my nose, and I knew exactly who it was.

“Going somewhere, lass?” he asked in an amused drawl.

I stepped back, cupping my elbows in a vain attempt to keep warm. The wind was frigid here in Ireland. His icy eyes dropped to where I was hugging myself and his jaw flexed. “You should go back inside. It’s cold.”

“I’m fine,” I replied, teeth beginning to chatter.

“You’re not. Go inside now, or I’ll take you in there myself.”

I arched a brow. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He threw me over his shoulder without preamble, showing me how easy it was to manhandle me.

“Put me the fuck down!” I screamed, drawing the attention of some curious onlookers.

---