Page 25 of Wild Irish

“Ye okay there?” A deep voice rumbles behind me.

Running my tongue over my teeth, I close my eyes and pray that the world will stop spinning.

“Fine,” I slur, stumbling when I push away from the wall.

“Careful.” Large arms wrap around me, saving me from doing a nosedive into the bushes.

When I glance up, two faces become one, and I’m struck by the familiarity of the eyes that stare back at me, even though I’m sure I’ve never seen the man before.

Music blares out as the pub door opens.

The man’s eyes jerk in that direction.

I follow his gaze, wincing when I see Cillian standing there, his face red and eyes filled with rage.

“Take yer fucking hands off her.”

The stranger glances down, then releases me so quickly I almost lose my balance.

Cillian moves so fast I’m not sure the other man even has time to react before his head is snapping back with the force of Cillian’s fist.

Someone screams, and it takes me a moment to realize it’s me. “Stop!”

“Fucking bastard!” Cillian yells, taking another shot, but this time the man ducks, and his own fist hits Cillian with an uppercut to his jaw.

The other man gets in a few more good shots, but so does Cillian, and I’m pretty sure they’re going to kill each other.

People pile out of the pub when someone notices the brawl.

It takes four men, including Aiden and Shane, to pull them apart.

“Get off me,” Cillian yells, shrugging Aiden and Shane away.

“Just cool the fuck down,” Aiden says, standing between the men, one hand on Cillian’s chest.

The other man spits blood, then wipes his mouth with his forearm, glaring at Cillian. “Ye really are a volatile bastard, aren’t ye, little brother?”

“I have no brother,” Cillian lashes out, his words full of contempt.

The man must be Owen. I see the resemblance now. Only he’s a bit taller, and his eyes are more gray than blue.

“Get out of here,” Aiden says, turning to Cillian. “Before ye say or do something else ye’ll regret.

Cillian sucks back his bloody lip, then spits. “Loyal to the end.”

Aiden opens his mouth, then shuts it, shaking his head. “Go home.”

“Fuck off. All of you.” Cillian turns and glares at me. “Are ye coming? Or are ye going to stay here with these bastards?”

I suck in a shaky breath. The look in his eyes says he expects me to betray him as well. I give a small nod and follow him when he turns and starts walking to his car.

Silence stretches between us on the ride home.

My head is still swimming from the whiskey, stomach churning, and I have to clench my back teeth every time we go over a bump on the road.

I have no idea what just happened, or why Cillian reacted the way he did. But it’s obvious that he and his brother had a serious falling out. It must be the reason for the tension between him and the other men as well.

When we pull up to his house, Cillian gets out of the car and slams the door behind him, still not making eye contact with me.

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