Lachlan: A Dark Irish Mafia Romance (Dangerous Doms)

by Jane Henry

  “Is our ticket to safety,” I say in a warning voice. “And you don’t know he’s an arsehole. You don’t know him at all.”

  She glares at me. “I’ve seen enough.”

  “Have you?” I ask. “You’ve seen Keenan at battle, lass? Have you seen what your own brother can do when he has to? Or your lover?”

  Her eyes are wide. Finally, she whispers. “My lover? Is that what you are?”

  Her lips part, and before I know what I’m doing, I’m kissing her, and she’s sinking into me, nestled in my arms and moaning into my mouth. I kiss her until she’s boneless, every ounce of resistance gone. I kiss her because I have to, because I need to, because the only way to show her how much she means to me is this public display of affection.

  “Aye,” I whisper in her ear. “Your lover, sweet girl, and don’t you fucking forget it.”

  She sighs and nods her head against my shoulder. “Okay, then. alright. I can handle this. I can handle myself. I’m sorry.”

  I hold her gaze a moment longer to make sure she is, in fact, obeying me, before I lead her to the bathroom.

  She opens the door and I follow her in.

  “You can’t come into the ladies’ room,” she says, shaking her head at me. “I’m sure I’ll be fine for a moment, won’t I?”

  I shut and lock the door behind me. “I won’t take that chance.”

  I lean against the sink with my arms crossed while she does what she needs to. She shakes her head when she washes her hands. “You act as if there’s a passel of wild dogs on my heels.”

  I don’t bother responding. For all I fucking know, there is.

  I go to open the door when a crowd of three women, all of them from the line of women outside that were entertaining us, suddenly swarm the small area. They come straight for me. I try to deflect one, but she’s giggling, and shoving her way up to me, and another’s running her hands along my shoulders.

  “Hello, there, handsome,” one begins to purr. I shove her off of me when I notice they aren’t alone. Someone in all black’s managed to sneak in right past them. He shoves his way toward Fiona, but he isn’t quick enough. In seconds, I’ve pushed past the girls and got him by the throat. I shove him against one of the stalls, and the girls scream.

  I pull out my phone and call Tiernan.

  Seconds later, Tiernan enters. The girls run off, screaming. The guy’s eyes are bugging out of his head, his face purple and contorted.

  “Lachlan! Lachlan, stop, you’ll kill him!” Fiona’s shouting, but her voice sounds distant, as if she’s yelling to me from a window.

  “Let him go, brother,” Tiernan says. “Calum will deal with him. You’re his guest, and this bastard’s broken the law.” I drop the bastard to the floor, when the armed guards enter.

  Tiernan turns to them and explains the situation. “Bring him to Calum.”

  The entire club’s gone quieter when I drag my captive bodily to the table where Calum sits. “Explain yourself,” he says, drawing a pistol. “Lachlan. Floor.”

  I know exactly what he wants me to do. I shove the man to his knees and drag his arms to his lower back so hard he cries out. I’ve been in this position before, only in the privacy of an interrogation room, not in a room full of people. The guy’s blubbering now, something about being paid for a hit, and how the girl with the red hair’s wanted. Calum looks to me, and I shake my head.

  “She’s related to the McCarthys,” I tell him. “And fucking sister to Tiernan.”

  Calum nods and pulls the trigger. Fiona screams when the man’s head hits the floor, but I don’t feel regret. Instead, I know we’ve won a victory.

  He tucks his gun back into its holster without a word. He jerks his chin to one of the bodyguards that stands behind him. “Get rid of the body,” he says. “Now.”

  Calum has chosen his side.

  Chapter 13

  Fiona

  It’s hard to believe what’s happening. It feels surreal, like I’m walking in a dream. I’m surrounded by sordidness that makes the Craic in Ballyhock look tame. A man just tried to attack me. They killed him, and now they’re taking his body to bury in a shallow grave.

  Here, in the world of the Irish mafia, alliances are formed and broken. Lachlan came in here looking for an ally. He’s leaving with one, but the blood of a man is on his hands.

  I don’t listen to whatever else they say after that. I can still see the cold way Calum pulled the trigger, and the victory in Lachlan’s eyes. He may love me—I don’t doubt that he does. But I can never forget that he’s Irish mob. Ruthless vengeance is his bread and butter.

  A knot forms in my stomach. Tiernan’s no different.

  No matter what happens between me and Lachlan… if there are children, or a home, dreams we pursue, our lives entwined together in inexplicable ways… no matter what happens, he’ll always be Irish mafia. Once inducted, there is no way out, save death.

  I’ve known this about Sheena and Nolan. I’ve heard their arguments. I’ve witnessed her tears. Though she’s beloved in the McCarthy clan, it doesn’t mean it’s always easy. Sometimes it’s bloody hard.

  One thing I do know is that Lachlan got what he came here for tonight. The vicious men of the Boston Irish have chosen to help him win this battle. Calum in particular is furious the assailant came to his private club and has ordered his most capable men to find out who he is and where he came from.

  We leave victorious, though my stomach’s tied in knots. Lachlan holds me by his side like I’m a victory prize as we leave. This time, it isn’t the hotel room of the night before but a different one. My mind’s so far away from anything remotely normal, like the frat party Aisling’s invited me to, or the syllabus emailed to me by my professor. It seems like that is only a dream. This is my reality. The two men I love more than anyone else in the world are mired in the lies, betrayal, and brutality of the Irish mob.

  Can I choose such a life?

  Do I want to?

  We take a ride back to hotel, and Lachlan’s speaking to Tiernan on the phone. His voice rises and falls, but I barely hear a word he’s saying. He’s not happy about something. I stare out the window, when we pull up a few blocks away from our hotel.

  Lachlan hangs up the phone and pays the driver, opens the door, and this time, it isn’t wariness on his face, or awareness of every detail, but bold defiance. He’s daring anyone who’d threaten to hurt us now to come at him, as if he welcomes a chance to retaliate. I swallow hard. I bet he’s done just that. And more.

  He places a hand on the small of my back, and for the first time since that first night here, I see a shadow of a guard following us at a respectable distance.

  “Lachlan?”

  “Not now.” His jaw is tight, his eyes narrowed on the door in front of us.

  “We’re being followed,” I whisper.

  “Hush.”

  He speaks in such a harsh whisper; I clamp my mouth shut and look at him in surprise. Oh, my. He’s been stern with me, but this demeanor is something else altogether, almost cold and detached. I’m reminded again of who he is and what he’s capable of.

  He leads me firmly by the hand into the hotel, but we bypass the regular entrance. Instead, he leads me down a darkened hallway and into a smaller elevator. It’s then that I realize this is the private entrance.

  How much does he know that he hasn’t shared with me? Tonight’s been a revelation on so many levels. What else does Lachlan hide from me?

  I thought I’d gotten used to the Clan and who they were. I thought I’d accepted them. But now I feel as if I’m floundering with no anchor, and it worries me.

  If he notices my reticence, he doesn’t say. His jaw is tight and his eyes steely as we ride the private elevator to an unnumbered floor. I don’t speak when he takes my hand in his, laces his fingers with mine, and brings our folded hands to his lips to kiss the knuckle of each of my fingers. His eyes meet mine, and I don’t know if it’s my imagination, but I think I see apology in th
ose depths. My heart flutters.

  No, I tell myself. Stay strong. I can’t let whatever schoolgirl infatuation I’ve had for Lachlan keep me from pursuing truth. Stay strong.

  The elevator opens not to a hallway, but straight to a locked door. Again, he tugs my hand and leads me to the doorway, and moments later we’re in a massive suite so big, my entire family could fit in here.

  He arranges me just inside the door, shuts the door behind him, then sweeps the place before returning to me. When he does, he finally sighs. I swear he looks as if he’s aged years since this morning.

  “Come here,” he says gently, drawing me to his chest and wrapping strong arms around me. Wordlessly, I tuck my head into the hollow of his neck, and my arms go around his waist. I close my eyes.

  “You alright?”

  No. No, I’m not alright. Tonight, I saw a man killed. Tonight, I saw my brother and the man I love for the brutal mobsters they are. Someone wants to kill me, and I’m on the run.

  I don’t respond at first.

  He pulls me away from him just far enough so he can grasp my chin and hold my eyes with his. “You’ll learn to talk to me, Fiona. I don’t want anything hidden in that heart of yours that you don’t share with me. Do you understand me?”

  He’s got the same stern expression I’ve seen countless times, but I don’t know how to respond.

  “There are so many things on my mind, though,” I finally say with a sigh. “And I don’t want to tell you everything.”

  His eyes narrow, and his lips thin. The grip on my chin tightens an infinitesimal notch. Not enough to hurt, but enough to capture my attention.

  “I didn’t give you that option.”

  My temper sparks. “Oh, right,” I snap. “Just like you didn’t give me an option to go with you tonight. Just like I didn’t have an option to speak, or to partake in your conversation with Calum. And just like you didn’t even ask if it was okay with me to come with you to another hotel in another room, when all of my belongings are in my dorm or the other hotel.”

  I watch his nostrils flare, but he doesn’t speak at first. But I’m not done.

  “I came here to go to college. For a fresh start. Something new, that was only mine, so I wasn’t beholden to anyone. And now here I am. Not even sure where I am or who I am anymore.”

  Still, no response.

  I blow out an angry breath.

  “No response, Lachlan?” I shove my palm against his wrist, my temper igniting, but he captures my freed wrist with his other hand and pins it to my side.

  “I can’t decide if I want to kiss you or punish you.”

  That sends a tingle straight down the center of me.

  Zing.

  I roll my eyes. “You could do both, couldn’t you?”

  “Aye.” He stares at me for long moments. “No,” he finally says. “Not tonight.” He sighs and lets me go.

  Why does that disappoint me?

  “Get ready for bed.” His back’s to me, while he flicks the locks in place.

  Anger surges in me. I want to smack my palm on the broad flatness of his back. I barely resist the urge.

  “With what?” I don’t bother to modulate my tone. A flame of fury licks at my core, barely contained.

  “Bags are on the bed. There are clothes. Your phone should be there, too.”

  “Excellent,” I mutter under my breath. I slide one of my shoes off.

  “Watch it.” His back’s still turned to me.

  “Or what?” I finally snap.

  He jerks his head around, his jaw firm and eyes flinty. “Or you’ll sleep on your belly tonight.”

  I don’t even know what comes over me. I don’t even know if I could explain why I’m so furious. Before I know what I’m doing, my second shoe’s sailing across the room straight at him. He catches it mid-air.

  He whips it to the floor and prowls after me.

  Crap.

  I back up until the backs of my legs hit the sofa, and still he stalks nearer. He shrugs out of his suit coat, and tosses it to a chair. I scramble onto the sofa, scoot down the length of it, and stand on the other side.

  “Leave me alone.”

  Still he doesn’t speak.

  I watch as his fingers begin unfastening the cuff at his wrist.

  Why does that turn me on, even as my heart thunders in my chest? How can such a casual move be threatening?

  The button falls away and he folds the cuff.

  My eyes dart around the room.

  With a little squeal, I decide to make a dash past him, but I’m not fast enough, and he’s ready for me. Just as I run for the bedroom, his arm loops around my waist and he holds me mid-air. I kick my legs and fight him, but he’s way more powerful than I am. He drags me to the bedroom and tosses me onto the bed. I bounce, my dress rips, and I scramble away from him, but he grabs my ankle and yanks me back.

  “Let me go! Let me go or I’ll scream!”

  “Ah, no you don’t,” he says with an almost casual shrug. Completely unaffected. “Not today, lass.”

  With one hand he flips me over onto the bed so I’m on my knees. I fall forward and brace myself on my hands as his palm slams against my arse.

  “Ow! Hey! Don’t you dare!”

  But before I can say another word, he spanks me again. Of course he does.

  “I did not come all the way here,” he grates, with another smack of his palm. “So that you could act the brat and endanger yourself.” Another searing smack. I’m wriggling in protest but he holds me so firmly on the mattress I can’t get away. “Don’t push me, Fiona. I promised you my folded belt across your arse if you earned it, and you’re one second away from just that.”

  I don’t know what comes over me, if it’s the temper I inherited from this flaming red hair—it’s a thing! — or if I need to see if he means it. Or maybe, for some reason I can’t quite fathom, I need to know he means what he says, for I kick my feet, don’t bother holding back, and scream as loud as I can, “You can fuck all the way off, Lachlan McCarthy!”

  He doesn’t speak but goes very still. That’s when I start to wonder if I’ve lost my mind.

  Without a word, he releases me. Is it over?

  I’m too stunned to move at first, and this is a strategic error on my part. He’s clearly an expert at removing his belt. In a flash, the folded leather leaves his waist. I try to scramble away, but he grabs my leg and yanks me back, all the way off the bed so my feet hit the floor and my belly pushes up against the corner of the bed.

  Now I’m second guessing my wild mouth and furious rage.

  “Okay, okay, I didn’t really mean that,” I begin. “Lachlan, I’m sorry, I swear I don’t know what got into me.”

  Still, not a word. Effortlessly, he gathers my wrists in one of his hands and pins them to my lower back. He yanks up my dress and tears my knickers clean off me. I crane my neck around to see his face tight with determination, jaw clenched.

  Oh God.

  I’m pressed against the bed, the corner pushed into my belly, when without a word he snaps the folded leather across my arse.

  It hurts, the bite of leather on my bare skin searing into me, and for a moment my mind clears. I can’t think, I can’t talk, I’m suspended in time when he spanks me a second time, then a third, until I’m squirming on the bed and my arse is on fire.

  After the fourth searing lash, he taps his belt on my arse.

  “I don’t want to whip you,” he says, but I can feel his hardened length against me.

  “Oh yeah?” I throw back at him. “Then why did you get a hard-on from beating me? Liar!”

  Another line of fire lights up my arse.

  “I warned you. I warned you about me. I told you not to push me. I told you what I would do. Do you think I want to hurt you?”

  A lump forms in my throat. “No,” I say, my voice sounding distant and strained. “I know you don’t want to.”

  But maybe I need him to.

  He spanks me again until
I can’t speak and I’m a blubbering mess.

  I’m crying freely into the bed now when the clash of metal tells me he’s dropped the belt onto the floor. He sits on the edge of the bed, drags me onto his lap, and cradles me in his arms.

  “Don’t you trust me, Fiona?”

  “Of course I do,” he says, his voice is softer now, I think whipping my arse has calmed him.

  “This has nothing to do with me trusting you.”

  “This has everything to do with you trusting me.”

  “No, lass,” he says, holding me close. “It has to do with your safety. I didn’t keep you in the dark because I don’t trust you. I didn’t want to be overheard. And God almighty, I don’t want to threaten our safety.”

  I reluctantly have to admit that makes sense.

  “Aye,” I say slowly. “Will you always beat me when I ask questions?”

  He lifts me off his chest and cups my chin in his palm. “I will never beat you. I will spank your disobedient little arse when I need to, aye.”

  I try to pout, but he’s turning me on.

  “We’re in another hotel arranged by Calum,” he says. “Now that we’re in this room, and I know it’s safe, I can speak freely to you.”

  Oh.

  “We came here so we wouldn’t be followed. This hotel is owned by the Boston Clan, and their friends are allowed access. It’s fully patrolled by them, carefully guarded, and a fucking fortress of protection.”

  I nod. “Okay. Well, since you put it that way…”

  “And I didn’t want anyone outside or our driver to hear where we were going or why.”

  “The men outside…?”

  “Our new bodyguards, assigned by Calum.”

  Ooohhh.

  I swallow. “Ah, I had no idea, though. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He rolls his eyes. “I couldn’t, Fiona. I needed to get you to safety first.”

  I feel small and summarily chastened.

  “Well. Maybe next time you can tell me,” I suggest helpfully.

  “Or maybe next time you trust me,” Lachlan says. I don’t know if it’s my imagination but I truly think he may be hurt. “All these years, Fiona, and you don’t trust me? Not yet? I don’t know how else to show you.”