Donnchadh

by Lynn Hagen

  “My son is gay? How the fuck did that happen?” Rocco beat a fist on his chest. “He came from good stock.”

  “Donnchadh?” Getty whispered.

  “Yes, shorty?”

  “Get me out of here.”

  Donnchadh pressed a light kiss on Getty’s lips. Even that chaste kiss had Getty swooning. He wanted to take things further, but now wasn’t the time.

  “Anything you want,” Donnchadh said. “But first let me take out the trash.”

  Donnchadh grabbed Bad Breath by his vest and slung him across the room. All hell broke loose. The two men with Donnchadh starting swinging, and the one with ox-blood-red eyes began to laugh, as if he was enjoying himself. He even went over to the jukebox and punched it, and thank fuck the music had stopped. It was giving Getty a solid headache.

  “Who the fuck’re you to come up in here starting some shit?” Rocco snarled at Donnchadh. “This is my fucking kingdom.”

  What in the hell had Getty’s mother been thinking when she hooked up with Rocco? He’d said he’d been a rotten bastard back then, but in Getty’s opinion, he still was.

  Donnchadh gripped Rocco around his throat and lifted him off his feet. Getty should’ve stopped him, should’ve told Donnchadh to put his father down.

  But Getty didn’t owe this stranger anything except a swift kick in the balls for acting as if meeting his son was no big deal, because it seemed that all Rocco cared about was himself and his reputation.

  Someone grabbed Getty from behind. Getty kicked out as he was swung around and pushed into the bar. Getty spotted a beer bottle and grabbed it, smashing it behind him.

  Shit. This was kind of fun.

  Getty gave a war cry as he grabbed one of the chairs from a table and swung it, hitting one of the bikers in his side.

  Donnchadh whipped Rocco across the room as the men who’d come with him finished off the others. Everyone lay on the floor, groaning as Donnchadh grabbed Getty’s hand and led him toward the bathroom.

  “You’re in serious trouble for leaving my apartment,” Donnchadh said. Then he smiled. “Let’s go home, my little warrior.”

  Getty would gladly follow Donnchadh anywhere.

  Chapter Nine

  Even after finding out that Richard wasn’t his father, and no matter how much Pete hated their father’s guts, Getty moved swiftly around the corner of the clinic and went inside.

  “I’ll be right here in the waiting room,” Donnchadh said. “Call my name if you need me.”

  His warrior was just too damn good to be true. Getty kept expecting to wake and find this all a dream. “Have I told you thank you for all you’ve done?” He pressed his cheek against Donnchadh’s hand. “I don’t think saying thank you is enough for all you’ve done.”

  “I just want you to be happy, shorty.” Donnchadh gave him a quick kiss. “Like I said, I’ll stay out here. I know your dad isn’t aware you’re gay, and I’ll respect your decision to tell him or not tell him.”

  Getty bit his lip and thought about Rocco. His reaction to finding out that Getty was gay. The complete disgust on his face. Then he thought about Richard. The guy was a complete screw-up on so many levels.

  “You know what?” Getty said. “I don’t even care anymore. I’m done tiptoeing around, worrying about how others will react.”

  Getty heard a door open and saw Bimbo coming out of a room. She looked between Getty and Donnchadh and went back inside.

  “Guess the cat’s out of the bag.” Getty sighed. “Let me make sure my dad is okay before we go back to your place.”

  In truth, Getty no longer cared about his house. The two could shack up there forever for all he cared. Getty’s place was with Donnchadh.

  His warrior took a seat and looked a bit silly. Donnchadh was so huge, and the chairs in the waiting area were of average size. With a smile, Getty went to the door he’d seen Bimbo coming out of. He gave a soft knock then entered.

  Bimbo was whispering something into Richard’s ear. She pulled away when Getty entered. He didn’t like the devious smirk on her face as she moved to the other side of the bed and took a seat, as if she were getting a front row view of the fireworks.

  Getty was not in the mood to deal with her. His dad already looked like he needed rest, and he was pretty sure having Bimbo here while he talked to Richard wouldn’t be helpful.

  Plus he wanted some privacy. Richard might not be his biological dad, but he’d been a part of Getty’s life since he was born. She wasn’t family, nor would she ever be.

  “Can you give us some privacy?” Getty asked politely, but her eyes narrowed, telling him he might have an argument on his hands.

  “I’m not leaving his side. I called you hours ago, and you’re just now getting here?” She clucked her tongue, gave a heavy eye roll, and looked away.

  Getty clenched his jaw and told himself not to make a scene. He was pretty sure all the fights she and his dad had had were because she started them. She looked the type. It was probably their fighting that put him in the clinic.

  The woman was toxic, selfish, petty, and if Getty never saw her again, it would be too soon. “I’m asking nicely for you to give us some privacy.”

  “What, is your boyfriend going to come in here and kick me out?”

  And there it was. She’d been chomping at the bit to say those words out loud, to expose him, though she’d already whispered the truth into Richard’s ear.

  She wanted to see Getty and his dad fight, to tear them apart. Getty had faced true evil over the past week, but the truest evil was staring right at him.

  “Yeah, he will.” Getty had spoken calmly, his voice low, but the meaning crystal clear. “Should I call him in here?”

  “Richard, your son should leave. I don’t need him upsetting you.” She tucked his blanket at his side, as if she really cared. In some fucked-up way, she probably did, but it would never be in the way that Getty did.

  His dad looked at Bimbo, and the scorch in his eyes was palpable. “Leave us, Amanda.”

  “But…” She stood so fast her chair scooted a few inches. Her lips pulled back, showing her teeth. She shot a finger at Getty as she glared at Richard. “I just told you he was kissing on a guy in the waiting room and you want to talk to him? What you need to be telling him is to get out.”

  Getty pressed his hands on the bed and leaned forward. “Have you quickly forgotten that it’s my house that you’re living in? My food that you’re eating? My utilities that you’re using? You’re not even worth my energy right now. My dad said to go, so get the hell out.”

  With an indignant huff, she stormed from the room. If it hadn’t been one of those doors that stopped at the last second and slowly closed, she would’ve slammed it.

  His dad sighed.

  “What did the doctor say?” Getty sat in her vacated seat.

  “Mild heart attack.” He closed his eyes and then opened them. “I’m not getting any younger, son.”

  There were so many things Getty wanted to say, so many questions he wanted to ask. But his dad looked as though he’d aged a decade since he last saw him.

  “I know you don’t like her, Getty. Amanda can be rough around the edges, but—”

  “But you don’t want to be alone.” Getty now understood his father. If Getty had to be alone again, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle it. Donnchadh had shown him so much, had made him feel wanted, needed, and loved. There was an ache in Getty’s heart to run to Donnchadh, even though his warrior wasn’t that far away.

  The warrior had erased Getty’s loneliness, even though Getty hadn’t thought he needed anyone, but he’d been wrong, and there was no way he could go back to his old life. Not after having his eyes open to someone as special as Donnchadh.

  “Can I meet him?” Richard asked. He held up a hand. “No judgment. If you want the truth, I’ve kind of always suspected. It doesn’t matter to me.” A wry smile curved his lips. “Who am I to judge? I’m a piece of shit who never deserved you.”<
br />
  Those words were an echo of Rocco’s, but Richard meant them, whereas Rocco had been indifferent, almost bored with Getty’s presence after his initial curiosity.

  And in that moment, Getty didn’t want to tell his dad that he’d met his biological father. It didn’t matter and wouldn’t change anything. And what if Richard had no idea about his wife’s affair? Getty didn’t want to break his dad’s heart, even though they’d been divorced for some time now.

  “Sure.” Getty gave him a smile as he got up and stuck his head out the door. It was no surprise that Donnchadh was right there in the hallway. Getty waved him in.

  “Dad, this is Donnchadh.” Getty took Donnchadh’s hand and led him to the bed. “And this is Richard, my father.”

  “You can call me Donny, sir.” Donnchadh shook Richard’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “You’re a big one.” His dad tried to sit up, his arms wobbly, so Donnchadh helped him, even fluffing the pillow behind his head. “I’ll be honest. I wasn’t sure what to expect.” He waved a hand at Donnchadh. “I love the hair.”

  Donnchadh smiled. “Thanks. I love the gown.”

  Richard chuckled, and Getty smiled. “I plan on going dancing in it later tonight. Show all the ladies my exposed rear end.”

  “Gross,” Getty said. “I don’t want to hear about my dad’s naked butt.”

  “Thanks.” Richard nodded. “Thanks for being there for my boy. I’ve been a shitty father, and Getty deserves someone in his life who’ll love him the way he deserves to be loved.”

  No one had said anything about love. Getty wasn’t even sure about his feelings, except that he never wanted Donnchadh to walk away.

  “I’ll take real good care of him, sir.”

  “I suspect you will,” Richard said. “I can see by the way you look at him that Getty means everything to you.”

  They talked for a bit more before Getty said his father needed his rest. “I’ll send Bim— Amanda in here.”

  His father waved. “She can cool off out there. There’s no rush.”

  “I’ll stop back by and check on you later.” Getty squeezed his dad’s hand and walked out with Donnchadh. Bimbo was nowhere around. She was probably off somewhere finding comfort in another man’s arms.

  “Thanks.” Getty leaned into Donnchadh as they walked to the exit. “For bringing me here.”

  “I told you, shorty.” Donnchadh kissed the top of his head. “Anything for you. I know you told me all about him, but he seems like a nice guy.”

  “Parents are far from perfect and can sometimes grate on your last nerve, but I’d rather deal with his imperfections than Rocco’s.”

  Getty had explained about the Black River when they’d gotten back to Donnchadh’s apartment, of how it had led Getty to the bar, and how Rocco, the guy Donnchadh had slugged, had been Getty’s real father.

  “Maybe knowing who your father is ain’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Donnchadh said.

  Somehow Getty had a feeling Donnchadh was talking about himself. His warrior had never known his father, and it was possible that was a blessing.

  “I need to stop at my house to grab a few things since I’m going to be at your place for a while.”

  Before heading to the clinic, they’d gotten Getty’s car from in front of Bistro. It was now parked in the parking lot, and once again Getty snickered when Donnchadh worked his way into the passenger seat. The guy looked folded up and very uncomfortable.

  “This mode of transportation sucks,” Donny griped. “I feel like I’ve stuffed myself into a sardine can.”

  “You could always meet me there,” Getty offered as he started the car. “It’s not that far of a drive.”

  “I’m not leaving your side,” Donnchadh said. “You’ve proved you know how to get yourself into trouble.”

  And things were still dangerous. Donnchadh hadn’t said that part, but it hung in the air between them.

  “Just get us there before I need a chiropractor.”

  “My poor baby.” Getty slid his hand into Donnchadh’s as he drove home. “I’ll massage out all your kinks.”

  “I have a huge kink between my legs.”

  Getty burst out laughing. That was exactly what he’d needed. A good laugh to ease the tension in his chest after seeing his dad looking so worn out and defeated.

  “I guess I better grab some massage oil while I’m at home.”

  Donnchadh squeezed his hand. “The biggest bottle you have.”

  “You think your dick is that big?” Getty teased, knowing damn well Donnchadh was hung.

  And the guy knew exactly how to use his cock. Getty had been addicted since the first night they’d hooked up and had sex. He never thought things between them would come to this, but he was glad they had.

  He pulled into the driveway, and Donnchadh peeled himself out of the car. He pressed his hands on his lower back and stretched.

  “While you realign your back, I’ll go grab what I need.” Like more clothes and some other things he needed for his laptop. Getty hadn’t thought he’d be staying that long at Donnchadh’s, but the guy had insisted, and Getty wanted to be as comfortable as possible in the demon realm.

  And he wanted some more of those delicious wings. As soon as they got back, Getty was having Donnchadh take him to King Wings.

  He stepped inside the house. He’d been half expecting to find a mess from his dad and Bimbo’s argument. He knew that was why his father had had his heart attack, and no one could tell him otherwise.

  Too bad Getty couldn’t find a decent woman for his dad and get Bimbo out of their lives.

  Getty was headed to his bedroom when he felt someone behind him. Suspecting it was Donnchadh, Getty smiled and turned.

  It wasn’t his warrior.

  Getty had no clue who the guy was, but suddenly all the joy inside him was zapped away and he wanted to ball his eyes out.

  “Thought you’d never get home.” The man grabbed Getty’s arm and yanked him forward. “I’m going to take great pleasure in killing you in front of the demon warrior.”

  Two more men walked from the kitchen to join the stranger. They looked like straight-up thugs.

  The sound of Getty’s heartbeat thrashed in his ears as he became lightheaded. “Donnchadh!”

  Getty struggled to get the stranger’s hand off him as Donnchadh rushed the house. He looked at the men then started battling the two newcomers.

  Donnchadh threw his head back and shouted, “Hondo!”

  Getty kicked at the stranger’s leg, tried to knee him in the nuts, and twisted around as if his life depended on it.

  And it did.

  One of the guys from the bar came barreling down the hallway. He’d been with Donnchadh when they’d come to save Getty from Rocco.

  He yanked Getty back, ripping Getty’s shirt to get him away from the stranger. Getty landed on his ass as Hondo fought the one who’d grabbed Getty.

  This was insane. What if it had been Richard and Bimbo who’d come through the door instead of him?

  His thoughts scattered when he saw balls of fire erupt in Hondo’s hands. Getty knew the demon warriors had powers, but fuck, Hondo could set the house on fire.

  Why did Getty care? That was the least of his worries right now. Getty looked to where Donnchadh was and saw his warrior with two sharp blades. Where the fuck had those come from? He wielded them with expertise, stabbing one guy in the head.

  The guy exploded into dust.

  Hellhounds.

  Getty’s knees became weak. They were fighting hellhounds. The same creature who had attacked Getty that night.

  Getty dodged around Hondo and the other guy and went for a fireplace poker. If one of them came after him, at least he’d have a weapon.

  But before he could get to it, someone grabbed him from behind. Getty shouted and struggled to get free as he was dragged from the house.

  Chapter Ten

  Getty groaned as he opened his eyes. He wasn�
�t sure at what point he’d passed out, but he wished he’d stayed unconscious. He was in some sort of cage that he could barely move around in.

  “The human’s awake,” someone said.

  That same feeling of zero happiness in his life was there, strong, beating against his chest like a disease. He had no idea where he was, if Donnchadh would come rescue him, or if he’d even make it out of there alive.

  As he looked around, Getty noted the sharp smell of stagnant water, saw tons of stacked crates, and rusted machinery that looked long forgotten.

  A guy in a suit, polished shoes, and a stylish haircut walked over, his footsteps echoing as he approached and hunkered down in front of Getty’s cage. “I’m Ari Gray.”

  Getty slammed his hand against the steel bars. “Let me out of here!”

  Anger rolled hard and deep inside him. Getty wanted to slug Ari for taking him away from Donnchadh. He wanted to kill the two men in the room who smirked at him.

  But most of all, he just wanted Donnchadh. Had his warrior beaten the guy he was fighting? Would he even know where to look for him? He had to, because he’d found Getty in that bar.

  “You’re just bait,” Ari said. “I see now gathering all the warriors into one place was a mistake, and I always learn from my mistakes. Now I’ll lure them to me one by one.”

  Getty turned away from Ari, refusing to look at him. He curled his arms around his bent knees. The guy had said he was bait. Did that mean they weren’t going to kill him? But that also meant Donnchadh would be walking into a trap.

  Ari made Getty jump when the guy slammed his fist on top of the cage. “Call him.”

  Of course Getty was terrified. The two men looked like thugs, and Ari’s eyes were flat and emotionless. People like him had no qualms about hurting innocent men and women. He probably derived joy from it.

  Getty tucked his head into his arms, refusing to call Donnchadh to him.

  To his death.

  “I see you need some persuading.” Ari opened the cage door, and as hard as Getty fought not to be grabbed, the guy slid him free and threw him at the two thugs.