Page 36 of Dublin Brute

“Don’t fucking lie to me. If you’re not up for this, you say so and I’ll end the match here and now.”

“The fuck you will.” I lean in, meeting him practically nose-to-nose with the cage between us. “Win or lose, I have never fucking tossed the towel. I won’t be tossing one tonight either.”

The two of us are glaring at each other as my words ring out and then the tension is lost as both of us fight not to laugh.

“You know what I meant.”

“Aye, I do.”

I swipe my tongue over the wet warmth of my lip and let the copper tang work its magic. “These people came for a show. I’m good to give them one.”

“Fuck them. You’re more important.”

The buzzer sounds to signal the end of our one-minute break, and I push off the cage wall. “I’m good.”

I don’t know if he hears the lie in my voice or reads it in my expression. Tag has always had the gift of reading people and it’s really fucking irritating when that superpower is turned on me.

I’m good.I repeat to myself.

I’m good to finish this fight fast so I can get to my girl. Because no matter how angry or disillusioned she is with me, I won’t let Nora walk away from me without one hell of a fight.

Good thing I’m in fighting form.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Nora

Brendan Quinn?

The noise of the crowd fades to a dull roar as my pulse thunders in my ears. I can’t breathe. Maybe it’s the three Knockout Punches I’ve downed, but the colored strobes of light are blurring into a dizzying whirl.

How can this be happening?

The sexy safety net Brendan wrapped me in over the past week is unraveling, even as I scramble to hold on to the fraying edges. He’s a Quinn. The room presses in around me, suffocating me.

I can’t think.

No wonder he looked so familiar. I saw my father’s file on Tag Quinn a few times and the family resemblance is undeniable. Right, so that would make the young hottie at the bar the youngest brother, Finn.

“Brendan Quinn?” I murmur, barely recognizing my own voice.

“Yeah,” Kate replies, eyes wide with excitement. “The Dublin Brute. He’s like Dublin royalty around here.”

Royalty? Yeah, the king of chaos. No. Tag is the king.

Brendan would be a prince of chaos.

The slosh of three Knockout Punches swirls in my stomach as Brendan’s words from Friday night come back to me in perfect clarity. He told me he worked for his family’s company—in the security protocols department.

I make sure people toe the line. Discipline those who don’t follow the laws…

The Quinn Laws.

My god, I’ve been dating a mafia enforcer.

My mind races as I watch him fight. My sweet and gentle Brendan—the man who held me close after my friend was killed, who sent me a care package, and who took me out for coffee to make sure I was all right—is gone.

This Brendan is beating on another human being in front of hundreds of people for money. My stomach churns. I knew I was flirting with danger because guys like Brendan aren’t Boy Scout altar boys, but this is more than I bargained for.

---