Tiernan: A Dark Irish Mafia Romance (Dangerous Doms)

by Jane Henry

  “We’ll see about that.”

  We bump fists, ready for the match to being.

  Before the sound of the bell’s stopped echoing, he decks me, catches me straight in the solar plexus, winding me. Fucking cheater wasn’t supposed to strike that fast, but the referee must feel the buzz of the overexcited crowd. He doesn’t call it.

  I duck his next blow and land one of my own, square on his chest. He falls back, and when he comes returns to me, his eyes are heated, his look venomous with rage. He attacks.

  I deflect and block, duck each blow, until he’s winded. I fall easily into my training, remembering every word Nolan gave me, every lesson I practiced until it’s become part of who I am. I bob and weave, duck and strike. Lachlan taught me that. I hope he sees me. I hope he’s proud.

  I pivot and spin, and he catches me in the ribcage. I double over, and he uses that opportunity to strike me again, but I’m thinner and in better shape than he is. With rapid movements I duck and strike, duck and strike, until every single fucking punch he throws hits thin air, and every single punch I throw hits its target.

  Adrenaline surges through me, my energy at an all-time high. I can feel him weakening, can see him beginning to cave. He’s not nimble enough. He can’t fight someone who’s been trained like I have.

  Cage strikes my head, and my world pivots and swirls. The crowd screams in fury, booing the referee when he hits my head again. Fucking illegal move.

  The referee blows his whistle, and I hear Lachlan nearby. I’m dizzy and dazed, but I will myself to get onto my feet. He’s been docked points for the illegal punch, but he won’t fucking care if immobilizing me wins him the match.

  Cage seems angrier. He’s at me now, throwing punch after punch. I can’t deflect them anymore. They’re coming too fast, too furious, and I can’t block them. The ref blows his whistle. The crowd’s hysterical.

  And then I know. It’s as clear to me as fucking anything, my Clan instincts screaming.

  He doesn’t care about rules. He’s trying to kill me.

  Christ.

  I see a flash of silver in his hand seconds before he strikes at me, but I’m fast enough to deflect the blow so only the very tip of his knife nicks me. I swivel, grab his arm, and in one vicious move, yank it at a right angle until I hear a snap. He howls with rage and pain. I snapped fucking bone.

  The crowd screams, the referee’s at us, but this isn’t a fight anymore but a bloody brawl to the death. He stabs at me again and I grab his wrist, throw him to the ground, and pin him beneath me. I hold his knife, my hand trembling with the temptation to slice his fucking throat right here in the ring, in front of fucking everyone watching.

  I hold his knife against his throat.

  “Who put you up to this? Who fucking did?” The fighter in me’s gone. Now I’m the cold-blooded McCarthy Clan enforcer.

  Trained to interrogate. Trained to punish. Trained to kill.

  He’s whimpering and crying like a fucking pussy, shaking his head from side to side. His broken arm hangs uselessly to the side, and he howls in pain. Strong arms are on me, and others are restraining him, but I shrug them off.

  “Easy, now, Tiernan. Fight’s over.”

  It isn’t the referee or a paid official, but Lachlan. He’s leapt onto the ring, his eyes furious. He’s prepared to defend me. His arm’s around me and the ref’s got my opponent. Lachlan signals to someone, and seconds later, I recognize Officer Walsh coming onto the scene.

  “To the changing room,” Lachlan says, half dragging me off. “Now.”

  My eyes go immediately to where the girls sat, scanning for the woman I know. But the seats are empty.

  Chapter 4

  Aisling

  Oh my God. Oh my God.

  When I entered the arena, I never imagined I’d encounter the men of the Clan. We’re nowhere near Ballyhock centre, and yet here they are. I don’t know why I’m surprised. They’re allowed to visit places like this, and I know that they’re trained fighters, but why here? Why tonight? What if one of them saw me?

  I know who they are. My best friend Fiona lived with them when she left Stone City. I spent hours as a youth with Fiona and her sister Sheena, and Sheena’s husband Nolan. I got to know the clan matriarch, kind and gentle Maeve. She isn’t here tonight. I know Keenan, the eldest, though he’s a bit older now. I wonder if he’d recognize me. I bet he would. He misses bloody nothing.

  Jesus, I recognize all of them, but when my eyes fall on Lachlan and Fiona, I sink into myself, turn away, hoping they won’t see me. I will die if they do. Die.

  I teased Fiona when she married Lachlan, asking her for an introduction to some of the single members of the Clan. I didn’t really want anything to do with them, though. Highhanded and old-fashioned, the men of the Clan fancy themselves heads of the house and that is not for me.

  Then why does my heart beat faster when I look at them? Why do I tremble when I see the line of handsome—no, sexy men of the Clan, powerful, muscled, and magnificent, sitting along the front row like the Vikings of old? Fearless, strong, and mighty.

  Jesus, I’m out of my feckin’ mind.

  I spent hours getting ready for tonight with Klara, but I had no idea it was here. I had no idea that the people I knew in Ballyhock would arrive, and that none other than Tiernan fucking Hurston would take the ring. If I knew, I never would’ve come at all. No fucking way.

  Am I high? Am I drunk? My mind’s gotten away from me.

  If I’m honest… Jesus, I’m both, but not so much that it’s affected my ability to think straight. I’d know Tiernan fucking anywhere.

  Before the match is even over, Vivian gestured for us to join her.

  “Come with me, girls,” she said. “We have to keep you safe.”

  Did she know something I didn’t? A minute later, as we followed her to the exit, the crowd began to scream and boo. The man was pummeling him, fists flying with a viciousness that went beyond a ring brawl. He’s came here to hurt him, maybe even kill him. I looked quickly around, only to find that bastard, Tiernan’s opponent, brandishing a fucking weapon.

  I froze. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even bloody breathe, as I saw him attacking to kill. I was dimly aware of the crowd’s screams of fury, but I shoved them out of my consciousness. My only focus was Tiernan.

  “He’s going to kill him!” I scream, but my shouts are drowned by the sounds of the crowd around me. I shoved off hands that reach for me, pushing my way toward the ring like a bloody maniac. What the fuck would I do if I get there? I couldn’t make it, of course, security guards holding me back.

  “Aisling!” Klara grabs me and drags me back. She’s stronger than I realized. I try to shove her off, but she pulls me alongside her and Miss Vivian.

  “He’ll kill him! He bloody will!” I scream, not even bothering to try to hide my crazy.

  “He won’t, lass,” Karla says gently, though her touch is anything but. “Have a wee looksie, will you?” She jerks her chin to the ring. “His brothers are here. No one will harm him.”

  And then the crowd goes wild, and even Karla stops jerking me away. Tiernan’s turned the match. He’s got the man under him, brandishing his very own weapon against him, and right then, right there, while I’m high as a fucking kite on drugs and adrenaline, my heart soars.

  He’s bested him. He’s bloody fucking bested him.

  And then I’m ushered away from the crowd, away from the noises, and into a brightly-lit reception room. Vivian shuts the door hard behind her, then swivels around and looks at us with wide, fearful eyes.

  She’s about ten years my senior, with hair as black as ebony, high cheekbones, and full, cherry-red lips that are perpetually painted and glossy. Large silver hoops adorn her ears, bangles along her wrists damn near to her elbows. She jingles when she walks, with a sway to her hips, mesmerizing both women and men alike.

  She snaps her fingers. “Sit, my loves.”

  She points a long, pointed fingernail at the seat
s that are scattered around the room.

  Where are we?

  We sit. She paces the room and sighs, glances at the door and bites her lip. What the hell is going on?

  “That wasn’t supposed to happen,” she mutters, shaking her head. She lights up a smoke and takes a drag. “Bloody hell.”

  “Miss Vivian?” One of the younger girls raises her hand.

  Vivian whips her head around to look at her, as if just remembering we were there.

  “Yes, love?”

  “Is there a victor in tonight’s match?”

  Vivian blinks, then runs her fingers through her hair. She blinks again, opens her mouth, then shuts it.

  “There will be,” she says quietly. “The McCarthy representative.”

  A low murmur goes through the crowd. A girl to my left mutters, “Would’ve preferred Cage, the monster,” but she’s in the minority. I want to slap her. Who would want anyone but Tiernan, and in all his muscled, powerful glory? Jesus.

  “Not me,” another girl whispers. “Bloody hell, his opponent was so fucking hot.”

  Oh no they do not.

  I’m surprised by the sudden vehemence that rises in my chest. No one will go with Tiernan tonight. No one.

  But how the bloody hell am I supposed to prevent that? I certainly can’t.

  “You alright, Aisling?” Vivian asks me, her brows drawing together.

  “Feel a bit faint is all,” I breathe. “Need to use the loo.”

  Vivian’s eyes stay focused on me, but after a beat passes, she nods. “Aye,” she says. “Security surrounds us. You’ll be safe. Out this door, immediate left. Come straight back.”

  I kinda feel like I’m back in grade school.

  “I’ll go with her,” Karla says, but both Vivian and I protest at once.

  “All set, thanks,” I say. “I’ll only be a moment.”

  Vivian nods. “Better to go one at a time tonight. I want the rest of you in here at all times. Easier to keep track of you.”

  I still have the distinct impression she knows something, but I can’t be chasing whimsical fancies, not when I’m out of my head like this.

  I exit the room and go immediately left like she said, but my eyes are skating left and right.

  I need to find him. I need to know if he’s okay.

  “Y’alright, miss?” A security guard to my left asks me.

  “Oh, fine, just need a breath of fresh air,” I say, flashing him my most winsome grin.

  “You can’t go that way—”

  “Be right back,” I say. I turn, and I run.

  He shouts and comes after me, when a wall of McCarthy men turns the corner and I come to a screeching halt. I know them immediately by their size and ink, and damn it all, I don’t want them to recognize me. I duck my head and run past them, but their appearance stops the guard from chasing me.

  One of them looks after me, but I don’t look to see who it is. I feel his eyes follow me. I see an open doorway nearby, and quickly duck in. I need to be able to observe them without being seen.

  “Did you see that?” says a voice I don’t recognize down the hall.

  “What?”

  “Swear I bloody knew that girl.”

  Their voices fade. I peek out the door as discreetly as I can. The guard’s gone back to his room.

  Oh, God. The McCarthys have Tiernan with them. They’re walking toward an exit.

  He’s alive. Thank fuck, he’s alive.

  Now what do I do?

  I look around and see an exit sign in this little room. I’ll make my way back home. I’ll text Karla to get my things. The McCarthy men aren’t taking any of us home tonight, that’s for bloody sure, and for some reason, that appeases me.

  I push open the door and pause. I have the distinct feeling I’m being watched. I turn to look behind me but see only the vacant room. The McCarthy men have left, along with the bloody guards.

  Is it safe out here?

  I have to lay off the fucking drugs. I swear to God I’m imagining things.

  When I turn, terror shoots through me when I feel a hand on my arm. I open my mouth to scream just as another hand clamps over my mouth.

  “Don’t you fucking make a noise.”

  I crane my neck to find the man I spent the night with glaring at me.

  No. My pulse spikes.

  “Think you got away, did you? Soon as I heard Vivian’s girls were coming tonight, I came to find you.”

  I try to kick him but he’s too fast. He ducks the blow, removes his hand off my mouth, rears back, and slaps me across the face. I use the opportunity to scream. “Help! Somebody help me!”

  “You bitch,” he growls, dragging me back into the room I just exited. I fight with everything I’ve got, shoving him off me only to have him return, angrier and more vicious than before.

  “You stole from me!” I scream. “You bloody stole! How dare you say I did anything?”

  “You hit me and ran with my wallet,” he says. I didn’t, the fucking loser.

  His hands are on my arms, and he’s shoving me to the floor. “You’re a good slut, aren’t you? Spread your legs, then.” He shoves my legs apart, and I know then he’s going to assault me.

  “Let me go!” I scream, writhing underneath his firm grip, but he’s stronger than I am, like a goddamn demon. He yanks my skirt until it tears, then reaches for his trousers.

  I kick and scream, which only gives him another excuse to strike me. Stars shine in my eyes, and my ears ring from the power of his blow. Tears stream down my face. He’s going to fucking rape me.

  “Help!”

  Someone’s coming. I hear the sound of footsteps, but it isn’t from outside the door where everyone else is. It’s from the street side. The door yanks open, and a large, angry man stands in the doorway. Moonlight illuminates him from behind, casting the rest of his features in shadow.

  “Motherfucker,” my assailant mutters. “Get the fuck out of here. This has nothing to do with you. She’s consented. Likes to be fucked like this.”

  I turn to him, my voice wobbly and plaintive. “Please! It’s a lie! Help me!”

  “You fucking bitch,” the guy says, and he raises his hand to slap me again.

  The man in the doorway lunges. I scream when the men collide like rock on rock. My assailant stumbles off me, and I scramble away to gather my tattered clothing and get the hell out of here. I run to the exit, but find it locked.

  My stomach plummets to the floor. What the hell am I going to do now?

  Fists are flying, as they curse and roll on the floor, when a stream of moonlight hits my rescuer’s head. His hair’s tinged red, and he’s already bloodied.

  Tiernan? I blink. Is it?

  He assaults the other man as if he’s trained for just this moment, his movements violent and terrifying but somehow, some way, beautiful in their fluid grace. My assailant draws a knife, and I scream, but Tiernan knocks it out of his hand.

  “I’ll fucking kill her!” he screams. “You might have stopped me this time, but I will find her and when I do —”

  It all happens so fast, yet it feels like slow motion. They roll and tumble and he reaches for me, as if he’s going to attack me again, right here in front of Tiernan. And Tiernan seems to lose his mind. He snaps. His movements grow feral, his growls filling the room, as he reaches for the man’s neck, restrains him, and in one vicious, final move, snaps his neck.

  I fall to my knees as the body slumps to the floor.

  He’s dead.

  I just watch a man murdered.

  Tiernan murdered a man.

  For me.

  I’m on my knees, both palms braced on the floor in front of me. I don’t know if I’m breathing or trying to keep the contents of my belly in place. I’m swaying, and the room seems both too bright and dim. I close my eyes, but when I open them it’s no better.

  Someone else is in the room. There’s a pounding of fists on the locked door from the main arena, but others enter from
the large doorway with the moonlight. In my crazed state of mine, I fancy them werewolves or some mythical creatures, but a little voice in my head tells me otherwise.

  It’s the McCarthys. They were your friends once. It’s the McCarthys.

  I can’t place them like I did in the ring, though. I can’t seem to grasp a thread of logical thought long enough to identify them. There’s a large, bearded one—no, two. There’s one who looks older than the rest, the leader, I know him. One’s gangly and thin, and one is very familiar to me. He’s Fiona’s. That much I can remember. He’s the one that goes to Tiernan.

  “Fucking killed him,” Tiernan says, looking with disgust at his bare hands that just took a man’s life. “Motherfucker. He said he’d never let her go. Said he’d always find her.”

  The leader jerks his chin at the door. “Talk later. Move fucking now.” He grabs Tiernan by the arm and yanks him toward the door. “Boner, take him to the bunker until we lock this situation down. Tully, you and Carson get rid of the body.” He jerks his head toward me. “I’ll take the girl.”

  I blink.

  Take the girl?

  “You bloody well will not,” I say through gritted teeth. “If you do, I’ll tell! I saw everything! I’ll tell everyone!”

  But the leader’s with me now, and I faintly remember him.

  Keenan?

  He shakes his head. “Which is precisely why you’re coming with us.” He reaches into his pocket, takes out a handkerchief, and in moments, he’s got me gagged and tucked under his arm like I’m a little straw doll and this is just what he does on a Tuesday.

  Jesus.

  Tiernan’s eyes come to me but he doesn’t speak. For a guy who just defended me, he looks bloody fucking pissed.

  I fight against my bonds, but a part of me doesn’t want to. I’m terrified about what they’ll do to me.

  A part of me knows that what happened right now has changed my life forever, that there’s no going back to bloody anything. The McCarthy family is the most powerful crime ring in all of Ireland, maybe even all of the United Kingdom. And I’m being taken into their custody.

  I shake my head and fight, but I’ve no more chance of getting away than a mouse does from a lion. I’m easily overpowered.