by Jane Henry
“Aye.”
And we did, making very specific plans for me to join up with Tiernan and solidify our alliance with the Boston connection. I’ll do what my Chief tells me. I’ve sworn a blood oath to do just that. But my heart is here in Ballyhock.
When we enter the back, the lights dim, and music filters through speakers overhead. The smell of drink and sex is thick in the air, and I won’t deny it appeals to me. But I can’t lose control. A man of the Clan doesn’t have that luxury. Still, a little stress relief appeals deeply.
“Boner’s wasted no time,” Tully mutters approvingly. Boner’s got a pretty girl on each arm. They’re dressed in skintight black latex, and he’s taking them down the hall to the private rooms. A part of me is jealous of him, of his ability to dive right into something pleasurable and satisfying, to not take anything too fucking seriously.
And didn’t a part of that used to be me? Tully used to say “Lach’s your man, the first with a joke or to light up your smoke.”
But the days leading up to Fiona’s birthday fell like petals from a flower, one by one, and with each passing day, a part of me sobered.
My phone buzzes with a text.
Fiona.
I feel like a damn boy, the way my heart pumps harder and my palms get all sweaty. I swallow hard. I’ve learned to master damn near everything in my life. Why is my infatuation with her the one thing I can’t?
Thanks so much for the locket. It’s lovely. xxx
I stare at those little x’s lined up in a row for far too bloody long.
“Oh my God.” A decidedly feminine voice comes from my left. I look over to see who spoke, but I don’t recognize the tall brunette. She wears a violet sheath dress so tight it looks like a second skin, her full breasts nearly spilling out over the top, and thick platform heels. I suppose one could say she’s lovely. But to me, not in the least.
“Hello there,” Tully says, and she gives him a pleasant enough smile, but it’s me she’s eyeing. She walks over to me, a drink in hand, her eyes promising wicked things.
“Hello,” she says. “I know you.”
I eye her curiously. I don’t recognize her at all, but to be honest, to me most women are forgettable.
Once you’ve seen perfection, it’s hard to see anything else.
“Hello.” I shouldn’t be here. I have no interest in any of these women, and the thought of a one-night stand or even a blow job feels somehow empty. Even though I haven’t had a really, really good fuck in ages, my appetite isn’t easily sated. I know this. I feel this. And yet…
I look away from her, and even think she goes away because I don’t hear anything for a moment. I chuckle to myself Boner opens a door and sidles in with his little harem.
I jump when I feel a hand on my arm. “This is mob ink.” I pull away from the woman’s touch. The brunette with the violet dress stands right beside me, her eyes widening in surprise at the way I flinched.
“Sorry to scare you,” she says. “It is, isn’t it?”
My body tenses, and I clench my jaw. “It’s what?”
“Mob ink.”
I barely contain my scorn. There’s McCarthy Clan ink, O’Gregor ink, Martin ink and the like, but I’ll not be lumped into the mob as easily as all that. The McCarthy Clan is respectable and powerful, and worthy of the recognition of that title. The others are not.
“There’s no such thing as fucking mob ink.”
She furrows her brow and takes a sip of amber liquid. “I thought you were one of them.” She reaches out a finger again to my arm, and I turn abruptly away, anger rising in me so harshly I’m afraid I’ll hurt her. I don’t want her to touch me. I don’t want her to talk to me. I never should’ve let Tully bring me back here.
When I was a lad, I had a vicious temper that landed me in so much trouble, I damn near got expelled from St. Albert’s. Malachy took me under his wing, under his firm discipline, and eventually Keenan did the same. I respected both of them, and hated earning their disapproval even more so than I did the punishment they meted out when I lost my temper. Over time, I learned to master myself, especially under Keenan’s tutelage. He was firm and unyielding, but he believed in me, and I learned to school my temper. I still remember his admonition when I was still a lad.
“Any man can rail in anger or fury. It takes a much stronger man to know how or when to act.”
“Easy, now,” she says with a laugh that grates on my nerves. “You seem awfully uptight, don’t you?”
She reaches a hand out to my shoulder and begins to massage it. I school my fury with difficulty, and probably don’t do a very good job. She winces a bit when I remove her hand.
“Don’t touch me.”
She still isn’t put off. Even her mate in the background’s calling her name, and Tully looks as if he’s about to intervene at any moment.
She throws back the rest of her drink, steps even closer to me, and I fear I may have to physically remove her, when she trips, her empty glass falling to the floor and smashing. She falls straight into me, and I can’t let the fucking woman fall and smash her face, so on instinct, I grab her.
She planned this. She feigned the damn fall; I know she did. The second I touch her, she wraps her arms around me and bends in for a kiss. I damn near throw her off me when I feel someone behind me, pulling me away. There’s a tumult of confusion, arms and legs and voices and warnings, and the next thing I know, Tully’s holding me back and her mate’s glaring at me, taking her friend with her.
“Jesus, Lach,” Tully says. “Let’s get you home. That was way too fucking close.”
I’m still shaking with the effort of holding myself back.
“I could’ve hurt her,” I tell him. “I fucking wanted to.”
“Don’t blame you, son,” he says with a paternal nod that’s meant to placate. “I’d have wanted the same, but you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself come morning if you’d lost it on a woman.”
He’s right, I wouldn’t. I nod, and I’m turning toward the exit when I spot a flash of red across the room.
I freeze, and look harder.
Is it? God, it can’t be. I can hardly see from where I’m standing, and she’s wearing a mask—goddamn, fucking masks—but I know the graceful slope of those shoulders—Christ, those bare shoulders. I know the way she twists her hair between her fingers, the way she lifts her chin in defiance when she’s angry. She turns abruptly, then she’s gone.
It can’t be her. I swear to God, if Fiona steps foot into this place, I will haul her home, haul her straight over my lap, and redden her ass ’til she can’t sit for a fucking week. I’ve never touched her, certainly never disciplined her, but there’s no way I’d let that deed go unpunished. I’d want to make it very fucking clear that the Craic is off-fucking-limits.
And then I’d have a talk with Nolan and Sheena.
“Y’alright, lad?” Tully asks with concern.
“Thought I saw someone,” I mutter. She’s gone, whoever she is. I turn away and shake my head.
I’m getting out of here before I do something I fucking regret. I’m going straight to Keenan and telling him I’m not going to Boston.
Chapter 3
Fiona
Five years earlier
I stand at the gravesite of my mother, a bouquet of flowers in hand. I came here tonight because I thought I was supposed to. Aren’t girls supposed to love their mothers?
I told Nolan and Sheena I was going out with friends. I told my friend Aisling I wasn’t up for going out. I went to Maeve’s garden in front of the McCarthy house quietly, the guards at the gate letting me in without question. I did my best to be sure I didn’t damage her garden but cut a few of the flowers that were already wilting anyway. I looked at the bouquet in my hand, when a wind kicked up and I shivered with cold.
It looked almost macabre. The white of a mum had faded, tinged with brown, and even the greenery was a little wan and darkened. I looked at the gorgeous assortment of flowers b
ehind me and shook my head.
No, I thought angrily. She doesn’t deserve nice flowers. And with that thought in mind, I stomped off toward the graveyard.
I don’t know why I’m here. Why I came at all. I never go out alone, and I never deceive Nolan and Sheena. But somehow, I need closure on this part of my past before I can step into my future. So, I march with purpose to the graveyard, not one month after we buried her in a plot behind Holy Family Church.
The trees shiver with the wind, as I make my way toward the freshly-dug grave, the flowers clutched in my hand.
“Going somewhere?”
I scream and drop the flowers on the ground. I spin around and see Lachlan a few paces away. I try to open my mouth but can’t speak.
He wears a t-shirt, oblivious to the biting wind that whips through the trees, rustling fallen leaves on the ground beneath my feet. His hands are shoved into his pockets, and his head’s tipped to the side.
I will speak to him. I must. It’s foolish for me to clam up in front of him every single time he’s near.
“Just to the—to the gr-graveyard,” I stutter. I suppose stuttering your way through a sentence is better than stone silence, but not by much.
He walks over to me, and my heart skips a crazy beat in my chest. What’s he going to do? Why’s he so close? Doesn’t he know I’m infatuated with him? Or does he know just that, and it pleases him somehow?
“I’m sorry,” he says, dropping to one knee. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Let me get them.”
But I’m gathering the flowers with clumsy fingers. He puts a hand out to stop me, and his voice lowers. “Leave them, lass. ‘Tis my fault, let me get them.”
I freeze at the tone of authority in his voice. I never met a boy like him.
But he’s no boy.
I don’t know much about the McCarthy clan except that they are criminals. I’m intrigued, though. I do know he commands men older than he is. I don’t know if he does it with authority or just because it’s in his nature, but I’ve heard him do it.
Why does that make my heart beat so?
Why does being near him make my belly swoop and a tingle shiver straight down my spine?
I let him gather the flowers and hand them to me.
“I’ll take you to the graveyard,” he says, the tone of his voice brooking no argument, as usual. It’s his way.
I am alone with Lachlan McCarthy! I sing it in my head, a thrill of excitement racing through me at his nearness.
“I’m sorry to see your family move out,” he says. “Though I’m happy you’ve a nice home now.”
I don’t reply at first. I wish he said he was sorry to see me move out, but he hasn’t. I’m not that special to him. And the mention of a “nice home now” is a stark reminder of the squalor I left behind.
“Thanks.”
He walks toward the grave, and I follow.
“It’s to the left, isn’t it?” he asks. It’s a full moon tonight. Clouds shift, and a beam of moonlight hits the side of his face. His hair is rugged and dark, and the shadows of a scruffy beard lines his jaw. My heart beats faster.
“I don’t know,” I admit with a shrug. “Haven’t been here.”
His eyes widen, but if he’s shocked by this admission, he doesn’t say anything.
“Aye,” he says. “I can see the freshest grave right there.”
“I’m glad I ran into you. It’s a bit spooky here at night, isn’t it?”
“You mean the ancient headstones, chilly air, full moon, and the thought of decaying bodies beneath our feet?” he says with a roguish grin. “Not spooky at all.”
“My God, Lachlan,” I say with a grimace. “Don’t!”
He chuckles, and I swear I feel that chuckle zing straight down my spine. My God is he handsome.
“Go on, then, Fiona,” he says gently. “You came to put the flowers on the grave, and it’s getting late.” He hands me the rescued flowers. I hold my breath as I wrap my fingers around the stems. It’s the closest I’ve ever been to him.
Again, bossing me around. But he’s right, so I nod, and take a step toward the grave. I look at the paltry bouquet and start bending toward the grave, but as I look at her name, a sudden fury swells in my chest.
I’ve always been crap at holding back my temper. This time, I don’t even try.
“No,” I say, my voice wavering and my hand trembling as I stare at the grave. “You don’t deserve flowers. You hardly fucking deserve this grave.” I rip the flowers in my hands into bits and throw them at the grave beneath me. “You were a crap mother. You were mean and cruel and selfish. Someday I hope to forgive you, but not…” I stomp my foot on the bruised flowers. “Today.”
I swipe angrily at the tears on my cheeks and stomp harder, grinding the stems and petals into the ground until they’re pulverized beneath my heel.
“Good girl,” Lachlan says softly behind me. I start. I damn near forgot he was there.
I turn to look at him. I must look a sight, with tears streaming down my cheeks and rage written on my features, but he isn’t shocked or surprised by my outburst. He gives me an understanding smile. I think I begin to feel a seed of love in my heart right then. He doesn’t judge, or scold. He stands by me when I’m hurting, and I will love him for that.
“Let’s get you home, lass.”
I don’t know how I make it back home.
I never should’ve come here to begin with, but my good mate Aisling corralled me into coming.
“You’re eighteen,” she said. “Have a little fun already. I’ve got a place I’d like to take you to.”
But then we met up with her friends, and we had a few drinks, and the next thing I knew they were dragging me into a club I’d never been to. I didn’t even know the name, or where it was. Maybe I was reeling a little, if I’m honest. Maybe I wanted to spread my wings and live a little. Maybe I was tired of trying to play by the strict rules set in place for the McCarthy family.
I had my guard with me, though they’re very good about staying in the background and being unobtrusive, so I figured I was safe.
I didn’t know this was a club that any members of the Clan would attend. I mean… I suppose I’ve been kept in the dark about those things. Why would I know, unless one of the other Clan women told me? So it shocked me to see Boner with a girl on each arm, and I blinked in surprise when I recognized Tully behind him.
But then… then I saw Lachlan. With… a woman. And my world came to a stuttering, excruciating halt. I tried to control myself, but I failed. My heart seized in my chest, my lungs constricted, and I stumbled to the back exit. I couldn’t breathe as I rushed toward fresh air.
I made some mumbled excuse about not feeling well to my friends, and for once actually beckoned the guard for help.
“I’m not well,” I breathed. I’ve not called on their help before like that, and I was thankful for their immediate attention and swift response. I found myself back home in short time, though I don’t even remember how I got there.
I make my way into the quiet, dark entrance of the home I share with Nolan and Sheena, and for the first time ever, a sudden pang hits my chest. My heart squeezes.
I’ve outgrown this place.
I don’t belong here anymore.
I used to, no doubt. I’ve always felt like I belonged. Nolan and Sheena have been so very good to me. But it was different when I was younger. When I was one of the children.
Maybe a birthday does make a difference.
Nolan and Sheena are in the living room when I enter, watching a movie. She’s curled up on his lap, and he’s got his arm around her.
“Y’alright, lass?” Nolan asks, his eyes coming to mine.
“Aye,” I tell him, making my way to my room.
“Got a text from the guard, said you were ill?”
Fucking hell, I forgot they’d report back to him.
“Got a little queasy is all.”
Sheena looks at me sharply. “Have you been drin
king?”
“Not much.” And it’s true, I haven’t. “And anyway, I’ll have you remember it isn’t against the law.” I give her what I hope is a pointed glare, and she opens her mouth, then closes it. She doesn’t respond.
I’m halfway down the little hallway that leads to my bedroom when I make a decision. I’m not that good about thinking things over and weighing my options. I’m known for rash decisions, but there’s a benefit to that as well. I’m also known for being willing to take risks.
I turn on my heel and face them. “I’ve decided I know what I want to do,” I tell them. “You know, what we discussed earlier today.”
Aisling is going to school in Boston. She’s invited me to go, too, and in the slew of college applications I sent, Boston University was top of the list with a generous scholarship offered as well. A part of me wanted to go because Tiernan’s stationed in Boston, and Tiernan’s told me I’ll love the city with its multicultural flare and old-school feel. I didn’t want to go that far away, I told myself. I couldn’t. My home is here with the McCarthys, in beautiful Ballyhock.
But tonight… I want to get away. I don’t belong here anymore, as a child under the protection of Nolan and Sheena. They’ve got my younger brother and children of their own. A little voice in my head tells me that it’s only Lachlan I want to get away from, and I am furious at him, but I ignore the inner censor.
Now I have Nolan and Sheena’s attention.
“Oh?” Sheena says. She brushes her bright red hair that looks just like mine out of her pretty eyes and looks to me. She tries to mask her surprise but doesn’t do it well.
Nolan just looks at me curiously. “Have you?”
“Aye,” I say with a sigh. I love it here in Ballyhock. I love my found family here with the McCarthy family. But tonight, I saw the man that I love with his arms around another woman.
I have to get away. I have to make my own way in this world. It’s time for me to become who I’m meant to be, and I can’t do it under the shadow of my older sister or in the presence of a man bent on tearing my heart into little bitty pieces.
