Page 6 of Dublin Brute

The rich timbre of the man’s voice soothes the panic clawing at the inside of my chest. I’m not trapped—there’s just a hulking man in a leather jacket lying on top of me. His massive hand cups my jaw and the pad of his thumb brushes lazily over my cheek.

Emerald-green eyes draw me in. He’s not afraid. He’s calm and warm and with me wrapped in his protective embrace, the icy panic climbing my spine eases.

With only inches between our faces, my mind blanks out and I allow myself to get lost in those eyes.

“That’s it. I’ve got you.”

I swallow against the ball of anxiety blocking my throat, the fog of terror easing back in small measure. “I don’t understand what’s happening. Tanya and I…where’s Tanya?”

His expression softens, and he drops his head next to mine and speaks softly against the shell of my ear. “There’s been a shooting. You and your friend were in the line of fire. I wasn’t fast enough to save your friend. I’m sorry, angel, but she won’t be getting back up.”

His explanation falls off his tongue like warm honey, his breath caressing the skin on my neck. It strikes me as odd that such vile words could sound so alluring. “Tanya’s dead?”

He lifts his head, his gaze locked on mine as if he’s studying me. “Aye, she is. I’m sorry.”

“We’re clear,” someone shouts from the other side of the planter.

The stranger lying on top of me moves without hesitation and hoists me off the cold concrete of the walkway. He tackled me behind a planter, but I barely noticed as everything went mad around me.

Upright, my shaky legs buckle the moment I’m on my feet.

Leather Guy pulls me into his arms and steadies me against his solid frame. With my hands on the muscled span of his broad chest, I press my cheek against his jacket and close my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Och, you have nothing to apologize for. You’ve been through a traumatic event. Just keep breathing and give yourself a moment to catch up with what’s happened. I’m plenty strong enough to keep you upright ‘till then.”

I follow his instructions and take another couple of deep breaths, grounding myself in the heavenly scents of pub food, leather, and what’s left of this man’s cologne after a long day. Tanya’s dead. Tanyacan’tbe dead. We have plans.

So much happened, so fast. He must be mistaken.

I ease back and look up at my protector. He looks so familiar. Why does he look so familiar? “Who are you, again?”

“I’m Brendan.”

My mind is sluggish, but I’m certain he’s got it wrong. Not his name—I have no doubt he knows his name—but the part about Tanya. “She can’t be dead. We’re going to share a pint and celebrate our plan to move in together. Her, Kate, and I…It’s going to be amazing.”

The sharp shrill of sirens brings a strobe of blue and white lights cutting into the darkness of the night.

I cling to Brendan, anchoring myself against the maelstrom coming at us.

He guides me away from the chaos of the street, turning me to shield my view of Tanya lying on the cold pavement. I squeeze my eyes shut, but the image is already seared into my mind—her body lying at awkward angles, her pretty purple hair covering her face.

“Look at me, Nora.” Brendan’s finger under my chin tilts my gaze up. The green of his eyes is vivid and intense. “Remember your friend as she was, not how she is right now. Don’t think about it.”

I scoff, my voice shaky. “How can I think about anything else?”

He brushes a stray curl back from my forehead with a tenderness that seems out of place in this moment. “Tell me about yourself. Where are you from?”

My mind stalls on that. “What? Why?”

“It’ll help with the shock. Trust me.”

What makes this guy an expert on shootings and death? Is there some kind of biker summer camp that prepares them for life, like the Boy Scouts? And why would I trust him? Well, maybe because he saved my life?

“Where are you from?” he repeats.

“Born in Galway, raised in the UK, but have lived all over Europe for my da’s job.”

Brendan nods, his thumb still grazing my cheek in a soothing caress. “I’m a Dubliner born and bred. How does Dublin stack up against the other places where you’ve lived?”

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