Page 126 of Forbidden Romeo

“What?” I say, suddenly confused.

Brute’s eyes flicker between us both, “Well, you are getting married.”

“The alliance was between my brother and the Novas,” Aimee says. “A Maguire/Duffy alliance was never on the table.”

The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. “But that’s not what it looks like, does it?”

Roisin Maguire was supposed to marry Arnie Knight, but instead, she’s apparently marrying me. Quite happily, it seems. It’s not exactly a stretch to assume the proposal was orchestrated by Connor as well.

“You seriously didn’t consider that?” Brute says, somewhat surprised by our expressions. “The Irish mob has been divided for centuries, only ever as strong as its biggest faction. If they ever made peace among themselves…”

“We’d pose a threat to the other families,” I finish for him.

Aimee frowns. “But that’s assuming Padraic would even name you heir.”

“Well, you got my vote, son.” Brute says, stretching out his arms and glancing back at his men. “I reckon it would be useful to have the leader of the reformed Irish mob owe me a favor.”

I give him an incredulous look. “Do you know?”

“You and your bride-to-be aren’t dead, are you?”

“Thank you for your help,” Aimee chimes in quickly. “We’re not trying to set up some sort of hearts-and-rainbows unity bullshit, but Jack would be more than happy to owe you a favor, right?” She gives me a pointed look

“Right,” I say through my teeth.

Satisfied, Aimee turns back to Brute. “And for what it’s worth, I’m also in your debt.”

“Thank you, Miss Maguire,.” Brute bows his head. “But your beauty is all the payment I need.”

“Watch it,” I growl.

Brute lets out a booming laugh and slaps me on the back. “You Irish are so easy to wind up.” He takes a couple steps backward toward his men. “We best get this mess under control before the cops start sniffing about. It’s been a pleasure, Jack, Miss Maguire. I hope we meet again.”

With that, he offers us a dramatic bow and takes his leave.

Aimee smirks at me. “He seems nice.”

“You need to go to a hospital,” I counter, ignoring her attempt to goad me into a fit of jealousy.

As I walk us back to the car, she leans heavily into my side. “It’s a gunshot. There will be too many questions.”

“We have a couple guys I could take you to… At the veterinary clinic?”

But Aimee is already shaking her head. “Going to need antibiotics. Maybe…”

“What?”

She looks at me nervously. “Could you take me to Lenox Hill?”

***

We pull into the car park of the ER twenty minutes later. Aimee looks paler than before, her head bobbing up and down every time we hit a bump.

“Stay with me,” I say for what feels like the thousandth time as I cut the engine.

Aimee looks over to me. “You’re not wearing a shirt.”

“That’s not exactly the problem right now, is it? Where are we going?”

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