Page 69 of Forbidden Romeo

Chapter Eighteen

Aimee

I’m completely frozen in place.

Of all the things that have happened in the last few hours, this is the thing that somehow dumbfounds me the most. Threats to my life, sure. Racing through the streets on a Harley? Whatever. But did he justproposeto me?

“What?” I reply, suddenly regretting not taking him up on the whiskey.

As if reading my mind, Jack goes to pour us both another glass.

“I appreciate,” he begins, not looking me in the eye, “that this might not be the most romantic proposal you could have hoped for.”

“It’s not romantic at all, Jack,” I reply, the bubbling hysteria seeping into my tone despite my best efforts.

“But,” he carries on through his clenched teeth, “it’s the only way I know to protect you from Padraic.”

I take the glass the second he finishes pouring. “What, with a ring on my finger, he’s not going to hold me for ransom?”

The alcohol doesn’t go down as smoothly as I hoped. It’s been a while since I’ve drunk hard liquor, and Jack doesn’t miss my quiet cough when I put my empty glass back down.

The bastard doesn’t flinch as he downs yet another shot. “There’s a code of respect. If I declare publicly that you’re mine, the Duffys won’t touch you. That I can promise.”

“But there are other ways they can hurt me,” I point out.

“Yes,” Jack says, finally looking at me with his fierce, hazel eyes. “But they might think twice about it if they think I’m invested in keeping you safe.”

The way his eyes pierce through me almost makes me want to believe him. But how many times has this man lied to me now with that same expression on his face? “Forgive me for not feeling remotely reassured by that.”

He looks away, but not before I see the anger that flashes across his face. “You have any better ideas?”

“I call my brother right now. He picks me up. You blame him for the attack on those three scouts. We go our separate ways.”

He blinks at me as if he wasn’t expecting me to have thought it through. “There’s a few holes in that plan,” Jack reasons.

“Worse than walking into the lion’s den with you?” I counter.

“The scouts know I was there, that I attacked them.”

I’m shaking my head before he even finishes his sentence. “They got hit over the head! They could be confused.”

“One of them, maybe,” Jack says, starting to sound exasperated. “But there were three witnesses. And my word doesn’t carry the same weight it used to.”

“Why?” I demand.

He looks at me for a moment, then pours me another drink. I watch as his hand shakes a little, and the liquor splashes onto the bar. “Padraic… He blames me for Graham’s death. He’s been punishing me ever since.”

I stare at the wasted alcohol, trying to piece together his reaction. Can Jack really be scared of Padraic? Or is there more to it?

“So what, you thought hunting down Roisin would get you back in his good books?” I deduce slowly.

Jack grimaces. “Something like that.”

We down our drinks in unison. This time, the alcohol pleasantly warms the twisting sensation in my stomach.

“God,” I say after a beat. “I really fucking hate the underworld.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I dragged you back into it,” Jack replies.

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