Page 6 of Irish Daddies
Reality creeps in, tying me down. The boys. My quiet life. My rules.
You can’t afford to mess this up.You can’t afford to be reckless again.
Still, the wicked part of me, the part I buried under laundry piles and carpool schedules, stirs to life. Maybe I can borrow afew tricks from my clubbing days. Maybe I can let myselfhavesomething. Someone.
The image flashes in my mind before I can stop it. Paul, rough and wild, bending me over the edge of my bed, his hands digging into my hips as he pounds into me without mercy. My core clenches at the thought, a desperate, traitorous throb.
I snap myself back to reality, cheeks flaming.Get to know the man first, Caroline.Maybe try a coffee before getting railed against your headboard.
Still, a slow smile tugs at my lips as I watch Paul exit the café, whistling to himself, the torn corner of my book tucked carefully into his pocket like a promise.
What would this Caroline do? Would she wait?
4
RIAN
When I get backto the house that my brothers and I rented out in the middle of nowhere, a massive expanse on a hill overlooking the Pacific Ocean, I pause before opening the front door. I already know what they’ll think. I steady myself to face Declan’s cold exterior and Kellan’s sick loyalty to the coldness.
The home is glass and gunmetal with doors as heavy as the concrete inside the walls, a masculine display of wealth. When I finally step inside, my brothers stand from their spots on the slick leather couch in the open living room. It’s a spot with no charm, just superficial class.
Declan’s face is alight with excitement, that sick heathenish look in his eyes that practically contorts his face from the one I recognize of my brother to that of a villain. “Where is she?” he asks, his eyebrows dropping as he sees that no one is behind me.
Raising one hand in a gesture towait, I dig the slip of paper from my pocket with the other and throw it down on the table. “She’s not here, but I made contact.”
Declan doesn’t even make a move toward the paper. The disdain on his face is evident, and he sneers at me. “Am I supposed to be impressed? The job wasn’t to ‘make contact.’ It was to bring her back here.”
“You don’t think it would be easier to bring her back here willingly?” I ask coolly, as if the proposition itself doesn’t give away how I felt when I talked to her.Who was that guy? He was supposed to be an act. So why did part of him feel real?
“Since when have we ever needed anyone we killed to be willing?” Declan sneers, the excitement that layered his eyes just moments ago long gone. Now his eyes are dull again, impenetrable walls.
Kellan pipes up, his voice almost teasing, “Maybe we should try it more often.” He walks over to the bar and pours himself a drink, which he swirls in his glass, anticipating Declan’s anger at the sentiment of consent. “Does it always have to be bloodshed this, bloodshed that?” he asks, his eyes meeting mine over the rim of his glass.
I shoot him a look, hoping to quiet him, but he tips his scotch at me slightly and takes a swig, throwing his head back.
Declan’s mouth falls agape, and his whole body pivots to stare at Kellan. “It isn’t about bloodshed. It’s about being efficient and quick.”
“For you, it’s always about bloodshed,” Kellan counters. He has a way of saying something too true just when you’ve counted him out as an idiot.
Declan takes a step toward Kellan, his brown curls bouncing as he does, making Kellan flinch. Satisfied, Declan stops in place and continues, “Bloodshed is a perk. We kill because if wetakeher out”—he kills me with his eyes—“then that gives her time to tell people about you. More security cameras. More witnesses. More time alive means more eyes. But our brother wasn’t thinking about that, was he? No, he was thinking with his dick.”
Guilty. I can’t deny that Caroline did something to my dick, made it twitch and harden behind my zipper, but there’s another reason I need to keep her alive for now. I’m afraid to tell them, afraid they’ll take matters into their own hands, afraid they won’t understand or care.
I’m pretty certain those boys I saw foisting Legos into their mouths like candies were ours. Well, one of ours. And whoever’s they are, they’re a part of the Crowley clan. Which means they’re heirs to all the Níamh Fuil brings, the bad of our father and his enemies, the good of our wealth and loyalty. I can’t kill Caroline until I’ve confirmed it.
I’ve killed plenty of people, but never the mother of my child. It feels like quite the line to cross, though I’m sure Declan would do it happily and without a second thought.
I usually trust my brothers implicitly with everything. You have to in this business. If you don’t have family, you don’t have anyone. But I know how bloodthirsty Declan can be. And how Kellan can be a pawn for him. I push my shoulders back and meet his disdain squarely. “She might have something valuable of ours. That’s all I can say for now.”
Declan sucks on his teeth, his angular cheeks hollowing out even more. “Since when do you make calls like what you can tell me? We’re a unit. You tell me everything, and we decide together what to do with the information.”
“Us,” Kellan quips quickly, settling on the arm of the couch. “You telluseverything.”
It’s a quick dig, and one that Declan doesn’t appreciate. “Are you going rogue?” he asks me.
“I’m being careful. Part of being a unit is protecting it,” I say, taking a step toward Kellan, who offers me his drink. I take a gulp and hand it back.
“I’m trusting you to do this job. You know what orders we got,” Declan says roughly, watching the two of us with jealousy. His jealousy is so pervasive in everything he does. He’s jealous of other people’s things, feelings, experiences—he lives in a shroud of green.
