Page 26 of Sinfully His

So why was I so pissed off?

I stormed through the rectory’s hallways, making sure my rage was painted on my face so the few old fucks who still roamed the halls would give me a wide berth.

When I got to my room, the lights were off, but I knew exactly where my unwelcome visitor sat, waiting for me.

“Your men fucked up,” I said as I crossed to the crystal decanter of whisky on the bookshelf and poured myself a drink.

The room flooded with light as Declan turned on the lamp and stood to his full height, as if that was supposed to intimidate me. He didn’t scare me. He might be the leader of the fucking Irish mafia in New York, but I was a man of God, and going against me was fucking stupid when your own people were so soaked in whisky-flavored Catholic guilt.

“You wanted her scared. My men scared her,” he said, shoving past me and pouring himself a drink. Him not saying anything about my tardiness told me he knew that his men had fucked up.

“By all means, help yourself,” I sneered. I tossed back my drink then ripped the decanter out of his hand and refilled my glass before handing it back.

“Oh, I intend to, and we need to have a little come-to-Jesus moment,” he said, refilling his own cup and then moving to the couch opposite where I sat. “Did you have to be so rough with them? They’re new.”

“Why are you sending the new kids to handle your top contracts?”

“You’re not my top contract, little boy. You are not your father. You are not your brother. All you are is an annoyance that I am allowing, because of what you’re going to get me.”

“They tried to rape her,” I seethed before tossing back the second drink and throwing the glass against the wall and watching it shatter. “That would have ruined everything.”

“They did not. They were just trying to scare her.” He shrugged like it was no big deal.

“No, one of them cut her, left a wicked gash on her thigh that still isn’t fully healed.” I had caught a glance at the wound on her thigh as I was petting her, careful not to touch it and to keep my hands on the opposite thigh. I wanted to torture her, not hurt her.

Declan looked me up and down for a moment, like he was considering his options.

“They will be dealt with,” he said finally. “Though your jokes about inbreeding with sheep definitely brought them down a peg or two. Is that what they teach you boys at seminary school now? Vows of chastity don’t count if it’s livestock?”

“Fuck, no.” I scoffed. “I thought that shit was just common Irish sense.”

Declan rolled his eyes. “Are you trying to piss me off, or is this just some self-hatred thing because you’re not as pure-blooded English as your daddy would like people to think?”

“I don’t give a fuck what he thinks, nor do I give a fuck about being Irish. I care you found the four stupidest motherfuckers that just happened to be gingers and sent them, without simple instructions, to scare my girl.”

“Your girl?” He raised an eyebrow at me.

“You know what the fuck I meant,” I growled.

I stood and paced around the room.

Usually, a good blow job calmed me, but not this one. There was too much energy running through my body, too much anxiety that I needed to get out. It was like my skin was crawling, and I didn’t know why. I wanted to go back to the Astrids’ manor. I wanted to take Rose and bend her over one of those antique desks that get more polish than use and make sure she remembered who her pleasure belonged to.

“I really don’t,” Declan said. “But it’s also none of my goddamn business. I don’t give a shit who she belongs to, who she doesn’t belong to. My men did a job, and we had a deal. Did you get it?”

“No,” I said, running my hands through my hair. “But I will.”

“When?”

“As soon as I can,” I bit out, going to pour another glass of whisky, needing something to take this edge off.

Declan stood and slammed his glass down on the table. “See that you do, or the rest of our deal is off. I might want that information, but you need what I have. And never make me wait for you again.”

And he turned on his heel and walked out of my room, leaving his threat hanging in the air. I hated that he was right. Going to Mary Quinn’s house, I hoped to at least get an idea of where that information was, but I did not know. The only way I was going to find it was with my little angel’s help. I was going to have to move faster than I had intended.

Two seconds.

I had two whole seconds of peace before another man that I did not want to fucking see walked into my private room without invitation.

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