Page 14 of The Enforcer's Redemption

"Yes, Princess?"

"Da, I want you and Mum to pack a bag. Rebecca too. I want you to be ready. When I come to you, we'll run, okay? We can get away from these men and their wars and?—"

The door bursts open, startling me, and the hairy, tattooed man stands over me with a glare. "Give me my phone, ya bleedin' banshee." He reaches out and grabs for it before I can even finish my sentence. I don't know what he heard, but I don't want to give it up. I hold onto it tightly and pull back.

"No, I need to speak to my father." My hand wrestles against his until I'm standing, fighting him off, and he smacks me hard. It stuns me, causing me to stumble backward and bump into the wall. It also makes me relinquish my grip on the phone as I reach to cover my stinging cheek.

I can't believe he just did that. My mind is reeling even as Declan barges in and shoves the man out of the bathroom with a shout.

He turns to me and cups my cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing over my lip which stings now. I taste the faint hint of copper on my tongue and know the man busted my lip.

"Are you okay?" he asks, stormy green seas raging as he peers into my eyes. I nod and lick the blood from my lip. "Isla, you shouldn't have done that."

I nod again, not even knowing the right response. I feel like I’m on a yo-yo, in his arms begging for him to pleasure me one minute, terrified and being struck the next, then back in his arms wondering why my world is spinning out of control the next. He's here. I feel safe, but I feel trapped. But I want him here, and still I want to push him away.

Declan presses a soft kiss to my lips and as he backs away, I see a spot of blood on his lip before he licks it away. "I'll deal with him.You just get ready for dinner." He touches my lip again with his thumb, and for some stupid reason, I ache inside when he walks away.

I hear the shouting and angry voices in the hallway as I sink down the wall onto the bathroom floor and hug my knees to my chest. If I were the sort of woman who cried and wailed like a banshee, now would be the time that I'd do it. But I'm not.

I'm the sort of woman who thinks carefully, plans wisely, and moves with purpose.

I just don’t know what way to move now.

11

DECLAN

Ronan's eyes are dark and angry, almost black, clouded with hesitation as he looks at me. With doubt. Rage surges through my body over the position I'm still in with him. It's true what they say. You can do a million correct things and no one notices, but you fuck a goat once and they'll call you "One Goat" the rest of your life. My mistake of listening to Eamon, being lured away even in my thoughts for just a split second of my life, will haunt me forever.

"It's got to be dealt with, Declan." Ro's voice is as thunderous as his gaze. Brynn had absolutely no reason to march into my brother's office and try to smear my name. The way I handled Mick was on par with every other instance of interaction. My younger counterpart is a fool, and I know my own brother can see it, but the rest of the family won't always side with Ronan and his mercy.

Yes, I fucked up by allowing myself to believe our cousin's lies, but I didn't act up on those deceptive thoughts. Still, the one time I met with him in secret, where I didn't slit his throat the way I should have, and it hangs over me like an omen,a predictor of my potential future behavior. Behavior Brynn thinks he will prevent if Ronan cuts me out of the family now. Brynn is about to learn a lesson in loyalty.

"I'll deal with it," I grumble, wise enough to know if I attempt to unleash any of my anger right now, it will make me appear out of control, and that's the last thing I need. Ronan has me walking a tightrope here. Isla O'Connor and the alliance formed by our wedding is my future. Marrying her family to ours will establish the O'Rourkes in new territories and quash disputes that have been simmering below the surface for decades. Everything is in place to make that happen, and when it does, Ronan will see that I'm in this for the long haul.

I turn to head to the door and Ronan calls after me, "Today, Declan."

My shoulders tighten at the order. I know the weasel is here in this house, probably just down the hallway. I'll pass him on my way to Ronan's living room where my younger brother Connor watches over Isla, who I brought with me to avoid another incident like the one a few weeks ago when she ran.

I'm grateful for Ronan's belief in me despite my failure, but I know the rest of the family won't see it that way. Brynn is a rat and a nark, going behind my back to accuse me of slacking off, of turning my back on my duty as an enforcer. Ronan doesn't take things like this lightly, and I'm surprised he is allowing me to handle it instead of taking matters into his own hands. It makes me think there may still be more doubt in his mind about my fealty than I thought.

The hall is dark, doors to each room on either side of the hall closed. The house is cool too, giving off a foreboding sense. I see the light streaming from the room at the far end of the hall onthe lefthand side, where Isla and my brother sit waiting, and I see a form moving in the dark in my direction. The silhouette isn’t hard to distinguish. It's Brynn.

"What the actual fuck do you think you're doing going to Ronan like that?" My growl comes rumbling up my chest and out my mouth at the same time my arm draws back and I make a fist. A hard right hook into Brynn's gut forces air out of his lungs and doubles him over. He grips his stomach and coughs, gasping for breath as I bring my elbow down hard on the back of his head.

"You're lucky he didn't cut your tongue out for narking." He wants an enforcer? Well, I'll be an enforcer of our family's true laws and morals. We stick together and believe in one another. That's a fact that has never changed.

Brynn drops to his knees still coughing and sucking in air like he's a drowning man just revived. I stand over him, wishing I could kick him in the gut, but I know when to draw the line. This is nothing more than a chastisement. I won't cross that line and be called a traitor for attacking one of our own, not after my almost-mistake. I know how to teach a man a lesson, and that is what Brynn needs—to learn a lesson.

"Fecking hell," he gasps, and I knee him in the face, making him fall backward against the wall where he plops down and shakes his head.

"Do it again and I'll slit your throat myself, but not before cutting your snake's tongue out of your mouth. In this family we remain loyal, and your little visit puts a target on your back." I'm glaring at him, but in the darkness, I can't even make out his expression. There's no way he can even see my features, but I know he felt those blows, and I hope to God that he gets the point.

I leave him sitting there heaving and prowl the rest of the way down the hallway to see Connor approaching the door. He looks alarmed, likely having heard the way I struck Brynn. I hold up a hand to him and nod. "It's fine… Just a little discipline session." My eyes flick to Isla who has her arms crossed over her chest, staring out the window. She looks annoyed and bored, but she's still beautiful. "How was she?"

"Well, Princess Whinge-Bag is as feisty as ever." Connor chuckles as he turns to glance at her and then back to me. "But she wasn't a problem. Good luck taming that shrew, eejit." He shakes his head and slaps my shoulder as he walks past me. "I'm right glad you’re on the chopping block and not me."

Connor's passing comment irritates me, but I'm glad too. He has no clue what he's missing by not seeing Isla for everything she is. He sees only her complaining and anger, and he doesn't understand it because he's never had a disloyal thought in his life. Unlike me and Isla, Connor has always wanted to live this life. He loved it the moment our father started grooming him to become our logistics officer. He can't understand what it feels like to be forced to stay when your heart screams for freedom.

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