by Madison Faye
9
Phoebe
Two months later:
The plane dips in the fading twilight sky, rippling through the low clouds as it starts to descend to the private air strip. The sun is fading low, a little bit of spring chill creeps over me, making me shiver as the sunset glows across the runway.
But then, it might not be the temperature that has me shivering. It could be that for the first time in two freaking months, I’m about to see the men who’ve stolen my heart.
One day. One damn day with them, and I knew I was done for. Ruined for any other man, ever. One day, and I was so head over heels for them that it hurt. And then, it all went to hell.
Calling in the cavalry was the right move. It was the only move, and I know that. I know Terry’s guys would have killed us otherwise. But making that call? Watching their faces as they realized who I was?
…It’s been haunting me for two damn months.
Life’s been a cold blur since that day. And mostly, I’m just missing them, terribly. For a long time, I thought about calling or getting in touch somehow. But I knew if I were them, I’d never want to speak to me again. Getting them out of the situation and downplaying who they were so that they could get away was a nice gesture, but I know it’s nothing compared to the betrayal of not telling them I was law enforcement.
But, however shitty the last two months have been, here we are—about to be face to face. There’s a part of me that stings knowing it was something else that brought them to this meeting besides me. But I push that aside. This can’t be about me and my regrets, it’s bigger than that. It’s bigger than me, and the brief moment of perfection I found with two guys in that room two months ago.
For a long time, I didn’t look at the thumb drive Eamon gave me. First, I was so busy processing the whole Terry case. But after that, less than three weeks later, I got the job offer I never imagined I’d get: the CIA.
I’d loved working with the Bureau, and working undercover, but the intelligence position the CIA offered was too good to pass up. And with making the career move, and with hating myself for losing Clay and Eamon, I almost forget about the little thumb drive. That is, until two weeks ago, and when I finally looked at it, it almost broke me.
We’d known Terry was a piece of shit mobster. No one new how much a monster he was though.
No one knew about the girls he was running, or the way he treated them as his own personal harem or punching bags. I’d poured over some of the testimonies from girls who’d escaped, and my heart broke. It’d been someone Clay and Eamon knew who broke the thing wide open—the daughter of one of the other kings on the Irish council, who’d come to visit Boston and found herself getting the shit kicked out of her by Terry trying to fight off his attempts at screwing her.
I read it all and looked through every picture. And after I was done throwing up in the bathroom, I made my decision.
And I have zero regrets.
What I’m doing isn’t exactly legal. But then, “the system” was going to fail when it came to Terry. They were going to get him on some mob-related shit, but with his kind of money and the kind of law team it buys, he’d be out in ten years, easily. Sure, there’s the thumb drive, but it’s inadmissible evidence, seeing as I got it from two crime kingpins who want to kill Terry.
So, I made the call, and now I’m following through with it. And my conscience is clear, considering the monster Terry is.
After September 11th, the CIA started a program they called “rendition”. It’s actually pretty awful stuff where they just made suspected terrorists just “disappear” to off-grid black-sites. Sure, it caught a bunch of the bad guys. But it also destroyed some truly innocent people. It’s mostly not in use anymore.
Mostly.
See, my new job with the CIA involves a whole lot of, well, secretive stuff. Working undercover set me up for a pretty awesome position with clandestine intelligence. And I’m currently using that position to make sure Terry Morrow pays. Some paperwork I signed off on, a list he’s been added to, and the piece of shit is about to disa-fucking-pear. Multiple different files will have him listed at multiple different black-sites. At some point, I’ll shuffle them again, and anyone who’s even bothering to look for a missing two-bit thug will lose the trail pretty quick.
Is it an abuse of power? Sure. Is it wrong? Not in my damn opinion. I’ve seen what he did to those girls, and the idea of him getting away with it is what’s wrong. Which is why I’m making sure he pays.
I can hear the small cargo plane’s engine now, and I watch as the landing gear lowers as it drops out of the sky. The plane banks slightly left, and then right, and then it drops, and I swallow, feeling my pulse skip.
God I can’t wait to see them.
I didn’t leave a way of getting in touch when I sent them the secret message a week ago. All I told them was where to meet, and when.
Oh, and what I had for them.
But this will be the first time I’ve seen them or talked to them—and a girl can always hope—touched them, in two months.
The tires squeal as the plane touches down, kicking up dust and rubber smoke as it slows. I watch as it taxies towards me, waiting at the end of the runway leaning against the Jeep, and I feel my skin tingle.
It’s time.
The plane stops, and so does my pulse for a second as I make my way towards it. Terry’s still tied up and gagged in the back of the Jeep, but I’m not even thinking about that piece of shit as engines on the plane cut off. The back cargo door slowly starts to lower, and I stop, my hands clenching into nervous fists.
And then, there they are, and my heart just soars.
They’re even more gorgeous than I remember—tall and brooding and so masculine looking. They start to walk down the gangway, and when my eyes catch theirs, my stomach knots. I’ve gone over what I want to say to them a million different times and come up with a million different ways to say it. But as they step towards me, those piercing eyes of theirs burning right into me and so full of heat, I forget every single one of them.
“Okay, it’s not exactly my best apology—”
I don’t get a chance to finish, because suddenly, the both of them are just on me.
I gasp as Clay’s hands grab me, pulling me up into him as he spins me around. I moan as he crushes his lips to mine, kissing me fiercely and hungrily, taking my breath away and sending me reeling. He pulls away, and suddenly it’s Eamon who’s pulling me into his arms, dipping me low as he kisses me slow and deep and possessively, until my toes are curling and my pulse is hammering in my ears.
“You don’t have a single goddamn thing to apologize for, sweetness,” Eamon growls lowly, grinning at me before he moves in to kiss my neck. I whimper as Clay kisses my lips again, both of them holding me so tight right there on the runway.
“I—I should have told—”
“You owed us nothing, angel,” Clay groans, shaking his head. “Nothing at all. And yet, you gave us so fucking much.”
His eyes burn right into mine, a fierce smile spreading over his face.
“You gave us all of you, and, baby girl?” He growls lowly, shaking his head slowly. “We’ve spent the last two months in hell without you.”
I bite my lip, heat flushing through my cheeks and my eyes glistening as I look at the both of them.
“I missed you so fucking much.”
They groan, pulling me close and nuzzling into my neck, their powerful hands sliding over my body and tugging me tight to them as I breathe them in. And for the first time in months, I finally feel whole again.
“You’re taking a huge risk doing this, Phoebe,” Eamon says quietly. He shakes his head. “I don’t know if we can let you do this.”
“You can, and it’s not that big a risk. I made sure Terry made his way into a potential terrorist database.” I shrug, grinning slightly. “I mean, he is a terrorist to young, at risk girls, that’s for fucking sure.”
Clay grimaces. “You read the f
ile on the thumb drive.”
I nod before shaking the horrible thoughts of Terry’s crimes from my head.
“Well, he’s all yours now.”
“Thank you,” Clay grumbles, nodding slowly.
“Are you…” I clear my throat. “Are you going to do it here?”
Eamon frowns. “Do what?”
“Kill him.”
They both slowly smile.
“No, angel,” Clay says with a grin. “No, we’re done killing. Terry’s going to face the council tribunal for his crimes. If he’s found guilty, and he will be, it’ll be Connor Hanity—Kelsey’s father—who does the killing.”
Eamon’s eyes drag over me. “You okay with that?”
I only have to think about it for a second—the crimes he did, the young girls he hurt.
“Very,” I mutter.
I look up into their eyes, and before we can say another word, we all come crashing together all over again. My heart soars, and my body melts against them as the two big, rough, gorgeous men press me between them and kiss me like I’m their last meal.
“You should come back with us.” Clay purrs quietly.
“Oh, I should, should I?”
He grins. “We could use your skills in our organization, you know.”
I hoot out a laugh. “Are you trying to recruit a CIA officer into the Irish mob?”
Eamon shrugs, grinning. “Maybe?” He moves into me, and when I feel his hand slide down to my ass, I shiver.
“I can promise you, the job has it’s… perks.”
I giggle as the both of them pull me in tight, kissing down my neck as their hands slide over me.
“Well how about you come work for me?”
They chuckle.
“For you, huh? Us, with the CIA?” Clay grins.
“Oh, for sure. We could use some hot Irish kingpins at the Agency. You’d be working under me though, just so you know.”
“I think I’d be just fine working under you,” Eamon groans, his hands tightening on my waist as I giggle.
And then suddenly, it’s like the last two months just disappear, and that I’d only been with them for one day stops mattering at all. I fall into them, kissing them madly, losing myself in their lips as the world fades around me. We stay like that for a while, me kissing one and then the other, as the sun finishes going down.
“So, should we be worried, by the way?”
I raise a brow at Clay.
“About?”
“About you being the CIA, baby girl,” he grins.
I shrug. “Well, are you or your organization extremist terrorists?”
“Uh, no.”
I grin. “Then you’re good. That’s what they’ve got their hands full with these days. I don’t think they care about the Irish mob.” I blush. “No offense.”
Clay chuckles. “None taken, and good.”
I lean in, kissing him softly.
“So, you’re really not going to just shoot Terry right here? Or throw him out of the plane at twenty-thousand feet?”
Eamon laughs. “Nah, not really our style.
I raise a brow. “Really? Two big bad mob kingpins like you?”
Clay grins. “You know, we’re not nearly as scary as you might think we are, angel.”
He pulls me close, growling lowly.
“But we could be, if you wanted.”
I shiver as I feel Eamon move behind me, four hands sliding over me as they move into kiss my neck.
“I missed you so much,” I breathe.
“Well you’ve got us now,” Eamon purrs. “And sweetness?” he leans in, kissing my neck. “Trust me, we’ve got you.”
Clay grunts. “We just need to figure out how to stay on the council when we move over here.”
Slowly, I start to beam.
“Actually, I’ve got one more surprise for you.”
I’ve been holding this one back, waiting to see how it went when I saw them again. But now, I don’t know why the heck I was worried at all.
I look up at them, biting my lip.
“So, there’s a new intelligence position opening,” I swallow. “In Dublin.”
It takes them a second, but then suddenly, both of their eyes light up, and before I know it, I’m melting into them as they kiss me wildly and fiercely.
“I love you, Phoebe,” Eamon growls.
“And I love you, too,” Clay purrs into my ear.
“I love you,” I whisper back. “I love you both more than I even know what to do with.”
“How about you start by getting on that plane, and we give you a tour of your new city when we land,” Clay grins.
I grin from ear to ear. “I think I’d like that.”
“And by ‘a tour of Dublin,’” Eamon grunts, moving into me as my breath catches. “We actually mean we’re going to tie you to one of our beds and take our goddamn time with you.”
I whimper as the two of them hold me tight, hands sliding over me.
“I think I’d like that,” I breathe.
Clay groans. “Because trust me, after two months of not having you, we’re barely holding back right now.”
“Who says you should keep holding back then?” I gasp.
The both of them growl fiercely, tugging at my clothes as my pulse spikes.
“Terry?”
“Handcuffed and blindfolded, and the back of the Jeep is soundproofed.”
I whimper as they start to tear my clothes off, tugging at my shirt, fingers working the zipper of my pants down as the heat explodes through me.
“Your pilots?” I gasp.
Clay just shakes his head. “We fly our own plane.”
I moan as I tumble into them, and as they start to drag me into the back of the plane, our clothes begin to hit the ground.
Life has a funny way of putting you where you need to be, or making you bump into the people you were meant to be with. It’s crazy the way the universe shakes out, or how fate walks you in the right direction.
But then, maybe it’s just flip of a card in a poker game. Maybe it’s just dumb luck.
But honestly, no matter the reason, I don’t care. Because the good guys won, the bad guy went down, and now I’ve got my happy ever after with the two most amazing men I’ve ever known.
Just call me lucky, I guess.
Epilogue
Phoebe
Dublin turned out to be exactly what I’d always been looking for. The city itself was amazing, but really, it was Clay and Eamon that made it real. We could’ve all been living on a raft in the middle of the ocean, or on an iceberg, and I’d have been fine. Because wherever they were? Wherever we were?
Well, that was home.
I ended up spending two years at my new post in the intel position with the CIA office in Dublin. But eventually, I caved.
Well, at least that’s how my guys like to describe it, jokingly.
“Guess we finally turned you to the dark side,” Clay chuckled the day I told them.
And apparently, they had.
I ended up leaving the CIA. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy the work, it was just that I found something that excited me even more. And if it was “joining the dark side”? Well, count me in.
Instead, I took a position with the Irish council, as an intelligence advisor to Clay, Eamon, Connor, and the other two “kings” of the council. As it turns out, not all the “kings” are guys, which is kind of great. Fiona and Shay, the other two kings, ended up becoming really good friends of mine, and I was welcomed in like family. Which, I never really had in my life.
But now, I’d found one.
And for being the “dark side”, the organization really wasn’t very “bad” at all. Okay, yes, I won’t sugar coat that it’s a criminal organization, but they’ve got a code. There’s no drug pushing or pimping girls, for one. And they’re not exactly running around doing drive-bys and starting gangland wars.
Honestly, it might be a cleaner organization that either the FBI or the
CIA, all said and done.
I don’t know where my life would have taken me if I hadn’t been in that room on that fateful St. Patrick’s Day. Or if Clay and Eamon hadn’t been. Or hell, if they’d been dealt different cards, literally.
Maybe it was fate. Maybe we all got lucky.
…Maybe I’m too happy with the two most amazing men in the world by my side day and night to care one bit either way.
It’s St. Patrick’s Day again, and as I step through the doors of our favorite pub from the blustery street into the warmth of cheer and friends and family, I grin. Fiona greets me with a big hug. Shay passes me a glass of whiskey. Connor’s getting schooled in a game of darts by Collin—the guy who helped back at the bar in Boston—which is extra funny since the younger guy still has a kink in his shoulder from the bullet he took.
And then, there they are.
Clay and Eamon emerge from the crowd, wrapping me in their arms and kissing me slowly. When we first all moved in together here, we may have—and did—turn some heads when we did this in public around here. Now? No one bats an eye.
Whatever happened before, now we’ve all got each other. We’ve got our health, our family, our friends, and love. And that’s something to raise a toast to.
…Which is exactly what we do.
The End
Also by Madison Faye
Standalones:
Get Lucky
Taking Back His Bride
Bound To His Bride
Reclaiming His Wife (March, 2019)
Stealing Valentine
Screwged
Sharing Samantha
Claiming Candy
Trick And Treat
Sugar & Spice
Five Card Studs
Dear Stepbrother, I Want You
Blackthorn Mountain Men:
Claiming His Mountain Bride
His Captive Mountain Virgin
Her Mountain Baby Daddies
His Big Mountain Axe
His Hard Mountain Wood
Her Rough Mountain Outlaw
Unwrapping His Mountain Package
