Page 62 of Dublin Devil

Swiping my finger across the screen, I tap in my code and unlock it. There are sixteen texts and a dozen missed calls from Rory and Brody, a couple of calls from Mam, and one from Da.

One? Is that all my disappearance was worth to him?

I delete it without listening to it. Why should I? He called once, late on the night of my dinner with the Russians. He likely heard from Vladmir and Arkady and left me a scathing rant about how useless I proved myself to be and how I needed to fix it or consider myself cut off and cast out.

A week ago, that would’ve destroyed me.

Now it barely registers.

“Are you okay?” Sean asks.

I draw a deep breath and do a gut check. “I am. Or, at least, I will be. I’m Piper-fucking-McGuire. No one can make me feel weak and insignificant unless I allow it. From now on—I won’t allow it.”

Sean winks and pulls me in for a hug. “That’s my girl.”

I love the sound of that, but we both know I can’t be.

As amazing as this was—and it really was—it was temporary. My father would burn down their lives if he found out I was with a Quinn.

I can’t repay their kindness by bringing violence down on their family—especially when their family is expecting a new addition.

“Put your number in my phone. I’ll text you an update later. You’ll see. Everything will be fine.”

His thumbs glide over the screen, and then he hands it back. “I’ll be waiting for the text. I mean it, Piper. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll be crossing the river and out for blood.”

“That’s not your job anymore. I’m not your problem.”

Sean leans close and lifts my chin with his fingers. “You were never a problem, kitten—a complication, yes—but never a problem.”

His breath dust across my cheek and sexual energy hums over my skin. “That’s a fine distinction, Mr. Quinn.”

One corner of his deliciously full lips lifts into a cocky smirk. “I meant what I said about not letting anyone hurt you again. If anyone lays a fucking finger on you, I will cut them off with garden shears. And if anyone dares to make you cry, I will put them in the fucking ground.”

I hear the threat in the growl of his voice and see it in the storm darkening his emerald green eyes. “I’ll text you. I swear.” I press one last kiss on the scar of his cheek. “Thank you for being my black knight. I will always cherish you as my first. Be safe, Mr. Quinn.”

Sean

From the moment Brendan and Bryan leave to take Piper to the bridge closest to her home, I’m climbing out of my fucking skin. Her going back to Mad Mattie is a mistake. I feel that to the depth of my soul. It’s why I couldn’t take her myself. I knew I could never let her go.

The McGuires don’t deserve her.

Mattie doesn’t understand the meaning of family, loyalty, or basic decency, for that matter.

He’s a greedy fucker with delusions of grandeur.

Da’s larger than life presence and power always kept him in check. With Da gone, the truce isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on. Tag wants to believe he can earn that level of obedience from him, but it’ll never happen.

There’s no stopping a runaway train.

My bike roars to life the moment I give her some throttle and the throaty rumble soothes some of the rage burning like wildfire in my blood.

No, it’s not all rage. There’s a lot of panic, too.

I respect how far Piper has come in a week, but she still doesn’t know how petty and twisted Mattie can be.

My mind is a whirlwind of fury and not even the wind pulling at my hair and my leather cut flapping against my chest can soothe the beast within.

Gearing down, I lean into the turn to take me to the clubhouse and slow down as I approach the ten-foot steel door that keeps wandering eyes from prying into our business.

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