Tully: A Dark Irish Mafia Romance: Dangerous Doms

by Henry, Jane

  I lean in and take his pulse, as the door to the mansion opens and footsteps race down the stairs.

  “Put the weapon down, lass,” I say to her gently. I can tell just by looking at her that she’s traumatized.

  Slowly, with trembling fingers, she drops the gun to the ground. I wince, half expecting it to shoot, but thankfully it doesn’t. She’s shaking from head to toe. I get up off the ground and drag her over to me, as Lachlan and Tiernan reach us.

  “Bloody fucking hell,” Tiernan mutters. “Who was it?”

  “Her fucking ex-boyfriend. Paid by the Welsh, I’m guessing. Alice must’ve gotten him in, and he’s been biding his time.”

  Lachlan looks at the body and shakes his head.

  “I’m taking her back to the room,” I tell Lach.

  Lachlan nods. “Aye. I’ll take it from here.”

  Her limp is more pronounced than ever as we walk toward the large, flat stone steps that lead to the front door.

  “I… I didn’t mean to do that,” she whispers, shaking her head.

  “I know, love.”

  “I just…” her voice is tremulous. “I just killed a man,” she finishes on a whisper.

  “Aye, sweetheart.” I wrap my arm around her shoulders.

  “But you don’t understand,” she says. She blinks, one tear rolling down her cheek. “I’ve never done that before.”

  “Of course you haven’t, McKenna,” I say gently. “But you did today, and I’m fucking proud of you. He could’ve killed you.”

  She nods, closes her eyes, and exhales. When she opens her eyes, she’s surer. Pleased.

  “Yes. Yes, he could have.” Her eyes cloud and her voice tightens, my ferocious little tiger once more. “Or killed you.” She looks back at Lachlan as if she wants to kill Patrick all over again.

  I draw her over to me and lead her up the stone steps that bring us to the mansion. The lass needs a good meal, a hot bath, and a good night’s sleep. The trauma of all the events that led today will catch up to her. It can be a challenge to process all that’s happened, even for the most hardened members of the Clan.

  But McKenna is fierce.

  By the time we make it to the front door, Lachlan’s already removed all evidence of what’s happened from the main lawn. The lights blaze brightly in the house as if it’s any old day. Deep in the recesses of the basement there are enemies who will be questioned and punished, but tonight, my focus is on McKenna.

  I call Keenan when we enter.

  “Need you down here, Tully,” he says firmly.

  I have to take care of McKenna but can’t defy my Chief. I don’t respond at first.

  Maeve meets us at the landing, her face grave and sorrowful.

  “Keenan, I…”

  “I’ll only keep you a few minutes, Tully, and will excuse you at the earliest possible opportunity. Alright?”

  I nod. “Aye, sir.”

  “Go,” McKenna says. “I’m grateful you’re concerned for me, Tully, but honestly I know what tonight entails. I know what you have to do.” She smiles at Maeve. She’s even braver than I realized. “Maeve?”

  “Aye, love?”

  “Is there any more of that good Irish cream for the tea?”

  Maeve laughs. “Oh, love, we’ve a bucket if you want it.” She opens her arm and gestures for McKenna to come to her. “Let’s get you situated upstairs, shall we?”

  “Do you know where my mum is, Maeve?”

  Maeve’s eyes come to me. She holds so many secrets, sometimes I wonder how she bears it all. “We’ll leave Tully to find that out.”

  I stifle a groan. Excellent.

  I wait until McKenna’s secure with Maeve before I join my brothers in the interrogation room.

  When I return to McKenna, I feel the weariness in my very bones, like a soldier returning from war. We’ve guards outside our door who greet me with respect, and I don’t know if it’s my imagination, but even their welcome seems different.

  “We heard you singlehandedly held off the entire rival Clan,” a ruddy-faced, newly-inducted brother says to me. His eyes shine with the excitement of it all.

  I can’t help but chuckle at that. “Hardly.”

  “And your woman in there,” another says, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “She shot the rival Chief himself, did she?”

  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. This one I don’t refute. The truth will be out soon enough, or maybe it won’t. In any event, McKenna deserves all the accolades.

  “She’s a brave one, that lass of mine.” There’s an unmistakable note of pride in my voice.

  They stand aside, so that I can enter. I unlock the door, and find Maeve sitting in the living room. She’s staring at the wall, a pensive look on her face.

  “Hello, Tully,” she says. I kick off my shoes, and walk to her on stocking feet.

  “Hello, Maeve. How’s McKenna?”

  She looks travel worn and tired. So tired. She nods her head. “Oh, she’s good. What a catch she is for you, son.” Though Maeve and I are closer in age than any other members of the Clan, she’s always considered all of us her adopted sons.

  “She is,” I say with pride. “That woman’s one in a feckin’ million.”

  She nods. “Aye.” She looks at me over her shoulder, her thoughts somewhere off in the distance.

  I sit beside her on the sofa. “And how about you?” I ask gently.

  “Me?”

  “Aye, Maeve,” I say, my voice just above a whisper. I love this woman as if she were my very own mother, and I know she’s experienced more pain than she’ll ever admit.

  Her lower lip trembles, and her eyes grow misty. Her voice is choked when she speaks. “He was a good man, Tully.” She blinks, and two tears roll down her cheeks. I know she’s speaking of Father Finn. “Wasn’t easy for him, you know.” She sniffs. “Being a man of the cloth, devoted to the church, and faithful to the Clan.”

  I nod. “I imagine so.” I run a hand across the back of my neck. “Most of us just choose to be heathens.”

  She laughs out loud through her tears.

  “Come here,” I say gruffly, reaching to give her a hug. She hugs me back, and breaks into fresh tears. I close my eyes, absorbing this for her. I owe her this much, to be strong for her when she literally needs a shoulder to cry on.

  “Oh, Tully,” she says, sniffing. “First Seamus. Now Finn. I know Seamus died over a decade ago, but Finn was the last of the brothers.”

  “The last of those brothers, aye,” I tell her. “But the McCarthy brotherhood lives on.”

  She pulls away, and wipes her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispers. I imagine there aren’t that many people who see her when she’s down. I’m honored I’m one of them.

  “Any time, Maeve. You know that.”

  She nods. “I do, and mother of God, if there’s a woman more blessed on God’s green earth, I don’t know who she is.”

  She gives me a grin and pushes to her feet. She sighs. “We’ll give Father Finn a proper burial, won’t we?”

  “Aye, Maeve. That we will.” I squeeze her hand farewell as she takes her leave. When I shut the door behind her, I turn to find McKenna standing in the doorway. She’s wearing a simple white gown that goes to her knees, her hair tossed into a messy bun. Her glasses glint in the overhead light.

  “You’re a good man.” She swallows.

  I smile at her. “And you’re beautiful, woman. You know that?”

  She blinks in surprise. “These jammies are nothing short of a cotton sack, I have no makeup on, my hair looks as if a mother bird made a hasty nest for her offspring, and you say I’m beautiful? Are you high, Tully?”

  I grin at her and prowl over to her. She flattens herself against the doorway and bites her lip.

  “Never been more sober,” I say as I near. She lifts her face up to watch me as I step right up to her. I bend and kiss her cheek. “But you’re mine, McKenna. All mine. And soon, you’ll be a proper member of the Clan. You’ll wear my ring and
bear my name.”

  She rests her head on my chest and embraces me. “I want that. I want that so badly.”

  “What’s changed?” I ask, running my fingers through her hair. “You didn’t want that before.”

  She takes a moment before she replies. “The only thing that’s changed… is me.”

  I nod. “Oh?”

  “For some reason, I thought that allowing myself to be a member of the Clan, I’d lose a part of myself. You know?”

  “Aye.”

  “But instead… I’ve found myself.”

  I continue to stroke her hair, holding her to me.

  “Have you?”

  She sighs. “I have. I’ve found family. I’ve found friends. I’ve found strength and courage I never knew I had.”

  “The rumor that’s circulating tonight is that you took down the rival Chief himself.”

  “Oh, Tully, no! Did you set them straight?”

  I shake my head. “Nah. Let them talk. They always do. You’re braver than you think, you know.”

  “Inside, I was screaming before I pulled that trigger, screaming like a little girl with a spider crawling up her arm or something.”

  I chuckle at the visual. “But you still saved my life.”

  She’s quiet for a moment, as I gently stroke her hair.

  “Is that what Clan life is? A give and take of winning and losing, saving and being saved?”

  “Aye, lass,” I say, as I hold her to me. “That’s it precisely.”

  I walk her over to bed. “And some sleeping in between.”

  She grins. “And one would hope some proper Irish meals as well?”

  I give her a teasing spank. “And don’t forget some proper Irish fucking.”

  “Incorrigible,” she says with a laugh. “But I love you.”

  “And I love you.”

  I dress for bed in silence, and she watches me, propped up on pillows. And soon, I join her.

  “Any word on my mum?” she asks, her brow furrowed. As I climb beneath the covers, she snuggles up to me. I hold her against my chest. I know she’s wondered this question, but perhaps only now had the courage to ask. Maybe she didn’t want to hear the answer.

  “She’s in our custody. She won’t be harmed, but we need to make sure she won’t pose a danger to us again.”

  She nods. “Understood.”

  “It looks like she was blackmailed by Patrick in coming here tonight, and he was on the payroll of the Welsh as well.”

  She shakes her head.

  “And that will grant her at least some immunity.”

  “I see.”

  Her voice is small, and I can tell she’s afraid.

  “Tell me what it is, McKenna.”

  “I’m just… nervous about what it means being a member of the Clan, really. What will be expected of me? Will I be subject to the same rules you are?”

  It’s a fair question. “You’ll be expected to follow my lead, McKenna. As you know, the men of the Clan are old-fashioned on principle, taught to be leaders of the home.”

  She gives me a look I can’t quite decipher, then laughs. “We’ll figure that one out.”

  God, I love her. “We will. Second, you’ll show respect to the Clan Chief. You won’t defy or disrespect him in any way.”

  “Got it. And I’m guessing you mean both Cormac and Keenan.” She’s a clever one.

  I smile. “Aye, love. Third, as a claimed woman of the Clan, your every need will be provided for. You’ll be taken care of in every possible way, as long as you draw breath.”

  “That’s a pretty big deal,” she says. “Like… life-changing, isn’t it?” She’s so adorable, I roll her over and kiss her. When I pull back, I frame her face with my hands and hold her gaze.

  “You’re a pretty big deal.”

  She snuggles up to my chest. “Oh, Tully,” she says, getting all bashful and flushing the way she does when she’s pleased. She swallows and nods, thinking. She shrugs. “Well. My cats live here, and it’ll make commuting to school much easier. So I suppose it’s worth all the bossing around and such.”

  “Is that right?” I ask her, giving her a warning look, but she leans right into the teasing.

  “They do have nice tea, here, really top of the line,” she says thoughtfully, stroking her chin.

  I growl, and she smiles, but keeps going. “And the best damn soda bread I’ve ever had.”

  “They do.” I fix her with a glare. “Are you using me, young lady?”

  She’s giggling like a little schoolgirl now. “And that shower, honest to God, it’s like a damn spa in there. Anybody’d be a fool not to stay.”

  “Is that right?”

  She nods and waves vaguely in the direction of the windows. “Crackin’ good view of the Sea as well—”

  I roll her over, pin her to the bed beneath the weight of my body, and hold her wrists above her head.

  “Oh, my,” she says in a whisper of a voice.

  “You forgot something, baby.”

  “Did I?”

  “Aye.” I bend and kiss the hollow of her neck, that sweet, vulnerable spot that pulses with life, and she sighs into me.

  “What’s that?” she asks in a whisper.

  “I won’t actually let you leave, so whether or not you like the tea or the view or the scones with the little currants in them’s a moot point.”

  “Moot point?” she says teasingly. “We’re using the fifty pence words now, are we?”

  That’s it.

  I release her, hike myself up on the bed, and haul her over my lap. She screams and giggles and flops like a fish out of water, but I quickly pin her down and arrange her over my lap.

  “You’re a little brat, you know that?” I slam my palm against the fullest part of her arse, immediately hard from the way my palm connects with her soft, tender skin. She squeals.

  “Can’t help it,” she says, panting, her legs scissoring in that way that makes me fucking harder.

  “Oh, you can, though, love.” Another searing smack. My cock throbs. “As I was saying…” I adjust her so that she knows I’m getting comfortable, just warming up as it were. I pat her heated bottom. “Leaving isn’t an option now.”

  “It isn’t, is it?” she says, looking at me over her shoulder and tossing me that cheeky look that I love.

  “Nope.” Smack. “You’re mine now.”

  “Like a prisoner?”

  “Oh, aye,” I say, waving toward the closet. “I’ve got the cuffs and everything.”

  She giggles and slumps over my lap. “Not surprising.”

  I rub my palm over the curve of her arse and give her a little squeeze.

  “That’s right,” I say, with mock sternness. “My men have been alerted. You’re not to leave here.”

  “Ever?” she asks, a note of curiosity in her voice.

  I roll her back over and nestle her on my lap. I trace a finger down her cheek and over her lips, memorizing the little dimple right there, the little pucker, the way her eyelashes flutter as she looks up at me.

  “Alright, then,” she says, as if we were having a reasonable conversation. “I suppose I can manage.” Her voice pitches off into a moan as I lower my mouth to hers and kiss her until she’s panting. Within minutes, she’s beneath me, our clothes forgotten in a tumbled heap on the floor. I’m gliding into her and relishing every inch of skin against mine, in the dance of ultimate surrender.

  She’s mine.

  All fucking mine.

  * * *

  Chapter 21

  McKenna

  ’Tis a cold, brisk morning on the cliffs of Ballyhock as the funeral procession makes its way to Holy Family. The fact that we have a visiting priest come to speak to the congregation and say the funeral services speak to the changes that lie on the horizon.

  So many people come to pay their respects, it’s standing room only. The small church bursts forth with the citizens of Ballyhock, on the steps, in the garden, all the way to the cemetery.
There isn’t a dry eye in the house as we watch the strong, strapping men of the Clan, Finn’s pallbearers, carry his casket into the church.

  I walk with the women of the Clan. We hold our chins high, and don’t bother to try to stop the tears that flow. Maeve holds Caitlin’s hand, weeping openly, and Megan stands on the other side of her. This good, strong woman’s wept buckets since the night Finn died, and my heart aches for her.

  Tully catches my eye as he enters the church. I’ve never seen the man in a suit, and I wonder if God will forgive me for thinking he looks damn hot. The flecks of gray in his hair and those deep, dark eyes look damn near regal in contrast to the sleek, charcoal-gray suit he wears.

  They walk as one, the men of the Clan, and it’s a somber, but moving procession. As the men enter the church, a little girl waves to me from the masses of people who’ve come. I recognize her as the little blonde who spoke to Tully the night of the ambush. I give her a wink and wave back. She ducks her head shyly, stepping back with her mum.

  The funeral is long and somehow, lovely. Finn’s priest friend came from England to perform the ceremony. His eyes shine with kindness at the men of the Clan who sit before him. Does he know who they are, then?

  Aileen’s beautiful, haunting voice leads us in song. I’ve never heard anyone sing Amazing Grace, but after hearing her, I’ll never forget it.

  Amazing Grace,

  How sweet the sound,

  That saved a wretch like me…

  Tully squeezes my hand at that, and I can’t help but tease him.

  “Saved a wretch, alright,” I mutter, and his lips twitch.

  “Behave yourself,” he hisses. Then we quiet as Keenan stands in front of the congregation.

  “Thank you, all, for coming here tonight, to pay your respects for my uncle, Finnegan McCarthy. To us, he was uncle, but to everyone else, he was father. There never was a more dedicated, loving, devoted father figure than Father Finn.”

  A hush falls over the congregation as he speaks. He tells stories of being a young lad in Ballyhock, how he and his brothers caused trouble under the watchful eye of Father Finn. He regales us with tales of being sentenced to cleaning up the graveyard as punishment, and how he convinced his younger brothers it was haunted.