My Irish Kings: A Mafia Reverse-Harem Romance (Quick & Dirty Book 2)

by Sienna Blake

  An apology stirs in the back of my throat. He disappears before I can get words out.

  I hear the bed creak and Magnar lumbers around the bed, dragging the blanket and another pillow with him. He drops the pillow above ours and collapses to the ground, curling around our heads like a guard dog.

  My King has lowered himself to guard position so he can lie on the ground with me. They all have.

  I choke on a sob. I bite down, jaw aching to stop myself from crying like a fucking pussy.

  Jace clears his throat. “Damn, that dust.”

  Bless him.

  He’s letting me save face.

  X, the unfeeling weapon, the steely sword of Magnar King, gets to keep his image intact.

  I wrestle control over my emotions as the room slowly fills with deep breathing again.

  As I listen to the sounds of the people I love the most sleeping, I find a kind of peace settling over me, a peace I’d never felt before.

  I finally feel like I’m not alone.

  Like there is finally somewhere in this cold, vast planet where I belong. Where I am wanted. Needed. Loved.

  Eventually, in the arms of my earthly angels, I fall asleep.

  Waylyn

  The next morning, I am the last to wake. On the bed in a tangle of sheets, of course, someone did lift me up here while I was sleeping. The perfection of the previous day sends a smile to my face and heat to my core.

  I bound into the kitchen with a smile on my face. “Morning, boys.”

  Magnar, Jace and X stop talking at once.

  I frown.

  Magnar looks resigned, his broad shoulders sagging.

  Jace looks pissed off, his beautiful features screwed up, his forearms tensed as he grips his hands into fists.

  X seems even more stone-faced than usual, his lips pressed together.

  Something is going on.

  Something bad.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  Nobody speaks.

  I take a step towards them and they fan out to face me, a wall of impenetrable silence.

  “Tell me,” I demand, fear making my throat tighten and my voice come out harsher than intended.

  I turn to Jace. Jace, whose normally sunny smile has been decimated by the look of pure rage on his face. “Jace?”

  “These assholes are going and they’re leaving us behind.” Jace slams the countertop with his palm before storming off. I hear the distant slam of a door, then a series of punches. Jace has gone to work his frustration off on the boxing bag in the small safe house gym, no doubt.

  I turn back to Magnar. “What is he talking about? Going where? When will you be back?”

  Magnar lets out a sigh and runs a large hand through his messy hair, falling out of its bun this morning. Magnar hardly ever looks disheveled. Today his shirt is wrinkled and there are bags underneath his eyes.

  X coos at me, coming towards me with outstretched arms.

  Now I know the world has gone mad.

  Jace is angry, Magnar is unkempt and X is being affectionate.

  I push aside X’s hands and glare between him and Magnar. “Stop trying to protect me and tell me what the fuck is going on?”

  X and Magnar trade a look.

  I’m about to go postal on their asses when Magnar speaks. “We all knew this was coming. I just didn’t think it would arrive so soon.”

  “What’s coming?”

  “War, little elm,” X says, his voice tinged with sadness.

  “What?”

  “Keegan is frustrated that he can’t get his hands on you or Charli for leverage with me. He’s announced a nation-wide call to arms. We’re going to war.”

  ~* * * *~

  Nothing I can say, no amount of pleading or begging can prevent Magnar or X from packing what little they have.

  Jace is still giving them both the silent treatment, hanging back during our tearful goodbye.

  X brushes my cheeks with his thumb as he stares at me with his stormy grey eyes. There’s a solemnness to his features that I haven’t seen before. He’s studying me as if it might be the last time he sees my face.

  “I’ll look after him for you,” X says, meaning Magnar, who is standing just behind him. But right now, all I can see is X.

  Precious X, always putting Magnar—putting every one of his brothers—before himself. I grab his face in my hands. “Look after yourself.”

  X has become just as important as Magnar to me. He needs to know this. “Come back to me, X,” I tell him, my voice breaking. “I need you.”

  X’s face softens before he dips his head to mine, bruising my lips with his, his hands clawing into me the way only X does. I kiss him hard, sucking at his lips as if I could suck his soul out of him to keep him here and safe with me.

  I whimper when X pulls back.

  “Listen to Jace, little elm,” he whispers just for me. “Stay alive.”

  Then X is gone and Magnar is standing in his place. Magnar. My overprotective giant. My savage king.

  He reaches down and crushes me against his barrel-like chest, lifting my feet up in the air. He tells me he loves me, that he’s never loved anyone like he loves me.

  I grip his shirt in my fists. “Don’t you dare leave me here.”

  He pulls back, love mixed with pain in his eyes. He knows I’m not talking about leaving me here with Jace…I’m talking about leaving me here on earth. “I won’t.”

  “Promise me.”

  “Way—”

  “Promise me,” I demand, as I grab him around his neck, trying to hang onto him. Determined not to let go unless he promises.

  He lets out a sigh as he rests his forehead on mine. “I promise I’ll try.”

  I grind my teeth. It’s not enough. But it’s all he can promise me. My stomach ties up in knots as Magnar pulls my arms from around his neck.

  I clutch onto Jace as I watch Magnar and X ride off on their bikes.

  “They’ll come back. Right?” I ask, tears clogging my vision, my stomach feeling hollowed out.

  Jace pulls me tighter to him, his eyes on the dust in the horizon that the other half of our family has disappeared into. He looks haunted, like he’s already seeing ghosts. “Sure, dollface.”

  I don’t believe him. From the sound of it, neither does he.

  Magnar

  The Dublin River Liffey is ground zero. It snakes from the docks to the east, then to the west cutting the city in half, a murky slick of no man’s land, only a handful of bridges connecting our two sides.

  Our men and country-wide brothers are gathered in HQ and the surrounding safe houses on the south side. From what I hear, Keegan’s men are gathering on the other side in the North Wall area and beyond.

  There is an uneasy restlessness among us.

  An unease sitting in me.

  Least of all, I lied to them about why they’re here.

  I told them that they’re here to stop Keegan’s attempt at overthrowing the relative freedoms of their respective chapters.

  I said nothing about Waylyn.

  Nothing about the threat to my daughter.

  Nothing about the reasons why this is personal.

  I don’t feel guilt over that at all.

  Waylyn and Charli are my life. I would do anything—anything—to protect them.

  As much as I love the men who have pledged to fight by my side, I don’t know them. Not really. The unknown over who tipped Keegan off to Charli and Waylyn’s whereabouts still niggling at my mind.

  Liam and X are the only two here who I would say hand over heart, I can implicitly trust. The rest…there is likely a traitor among them.

  I eye the men who amble past me, barely nodding back while they respectfully acknowledge me as they pass, rifles strapped to their backs. Guns are illegal in Ireland, but I’m willing to bet that the entire illegal cache of guns and bullets have been brought out for tomorrow.

  That’s when Liam’s spies say that Keegan is planning to attack HQ.

&nb
sp; When he does, we’ll be ready.

  “King.”

  Speak of the devil.

  Liam strides up to my side, his voice low. “There’s something you should hear.”

  “What is it?”

  He shakes his head. “You need to hear this first-hand. For yourself.”

  Nerves coil in my belly. I was supposed to meet X here. He’s late. He’s never fucking late. “I’ve got to meet X.”

  Liam lets out an exasperated noise. “X can wait. This can’t. Come on.”

  I glance once more along the corridor. No sign of X. I check my phone. No word from him either. “Okay, fine.” I follow him down the corridor and into the elevator.

  He hits the button for the basement.

  I type out a message to X, going with Liam 4 a sec but the doors slam shut before it sends properly. The message sits in my outbox. No matter. It’ll send once I have reception again.

  I catch Liam glancing over at my screen. “Phone won’t work down here.”

  “Thanks for the reminder.” I tuck the phone into my pocket.

  The elevator dings and opens. Liam strides out and through the doors into the soundproof basement that doubles as our meeting room and interrogation room. He must have another informant in there. Maybe this is where X is; getting information out of whoever is unlucky enough to be in the chair this time.

  I follow him into the room. It’s dark in here and my eyes take a second to adjust. “Okay, what is it that you want me to hear?”

  The steel door clicks shut behind me, indicating it has been locked from the outside. There no one sitting in any of the chairs. I can’t see Liam.

  “Liam?” I call into the dim, the bottom of my stomach dropping out. “What the fuck is going on?”

  Waylyn

  I glare at my phone, the one that Magnar gave me so he could contact me with updates. Ring, damn you, ring.

  The obstinate hunk of metal remains silent. It’s been several hours and I haven’t heard from Magnar.

  He promised to call every few hours with an update. At least to text if he was busy.

  I’ve sent him several messages but still no reply.

  My nerves twist around in hollow knots. Something is wrong. I can feel it in my bones.

  I run to the gym where Jace has been punching a bag on and off since they left.

  He’s dripping with sweat, his shirt sticking to his lean muscles, his fists moving rhythmically, the bag swaying with every powerful hit.

  I have no time to appreciate him. “Jace!”

  He spins on his heel, his face softening when he sees me. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, hair sticking to him, before he drops his guard. “What is it, doll?”

  “Magnar hasn’t called in, like, four hours.” I exaggerate. It’s barely been three but it’s still three hours too long between updates. “Something is wrong.”

  Jace lets out a sigh. “He’s probably just caught up with stuff. He’ll call.”

  “We can’t wait for him to call. We have to go find him.”

  “Dollface, I don’t like it any more than you do, but if Magnar told us to stay put, we need to stay put.”

  Frustration and panic winds around inside me. He’s not listening to me. How do I make him listen?

  Before he can turn back to that damn bag, I grab him by his arms, all sweaty and pumped with blood from exertion. I look right into his eyes, pleading, begging for him to hear me. I let the fear pour from my features, let it coat my voice. “Have you ever just gotten the feeling like you know that something is wrong?”

  Jace shuffles his weight. “Yes.”

  “Magnar is in trouble. I can feel it. He needs our help.”

  “But Magnar said—”

  “Magnar isn’t here!” I shake him as hard as I can. It barely moves him. “It’s just you and me. Not Magnar. He can’t tell us what to do in this situation. We need to make a decision without him. You need to make a decision without him.”

  “Doll—”

  “Jace, Magnar and X are out there somewhere risking their lives for me—for us. We should be beside them, not out here in the middle of nowhere, hiding.”

  I watch as Jace’s eyebrows furrow. I see the gears ticking in his head as he weighs this all up. He’s testing out this idea, like a fawn stretching out his muscles for the first time.

  Come on, Jace.

  I lower my voice to a whisper, my words just for him. “You said you always felt like a follower, never a leader. You told me you secretly resented that you never got to make decisions. Now is your chance.”

  Resolution solidifies in his features, making them look harder than I’ve ever seen them. He nods. “Okay, let’s go.”

  Jace takes the quickest shower known to mankind. I grab a few things and shove them into a bag. Who knows how long this war will last or how long we will have to stay at HQ? In the kitchen, I grab a few nuts and protein bars for the road. Lunch felt like a long time ago and we won’t have time to stop for dinner on the way.

  I’m zipping up the duffel when Jace strides out of the bedroom, dressed in dark jeans and a leather jacket over a black tee. His hair is wet and slicked back from his gorgeous face. “You ready?”

  I nod. Then I start to shake. I’ve been so focused on getting prepared over the last five minutes that I haven’t had time to process the panic rattling at my bones.

  Jace strides over to me and crushes me to him, his touch sending a calming wave through me. He places a soothing kiss on my forehead, then one on my mouth. “Hey, everything will be all right. In less than two hours we’ll be at HQ and Magnar will be yelling at both of us for disobeying his orders.”

  I nod, willing myself to believe him. Fuck, I hope so.

  My phone blares out just then, causing me to jump. I grab it from my back pocket, my shoulders sagging with relief when I see Magnar’s name flash up on the screen. Thank God.

  I stab the Accept Call button and hold the phone to my ear. “Baby?” I say.

  “Little elm.”

  It’s not Magnar. “X,” I breathe a sigh of relief. X is okay. But…Magnar. Panic starts to rise again. “Where is he?”

  X pauses. Just a little too long.

  “X?”

  Something’s wrong.

  Something’s happened.

  Panic starts to claw at my throat even as I shove it away. Relax, Way. You don’t know anything yet. “What’s happened to Magnar?” I’m not asking. I’m begging. Please let me be wrong. Please let him be okay.

  “Waylyn,” X’s voice cracks. “You have to come quickly.”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. No, this is not happening.

  “What’s happened? X? Tell me.” The room starts to spin. Round and round.

  “I’m so, so sorry…”

  Waylyn

  When grief takes hold of you, the world seems muted. Wrapped in gauze. Colours dull. Sounds seem like they pass through cotton wool. Time slows to a trickle.

  Thoughts fracture. Because life is also fractured.

  I remember falling to the ground, the phone slipping out of my hand. It clatters as I clatter against the floor.

  I remember Jace grabbing me, bundling me up into his arms, his panicked voice, him yelling into the phone at X.

  I remember screaming when Jace tried to put me in the passenger seat, clawing at him, unable to let go—his touch was the only thing tethering me to his earth, the single thread of my sanity.

  He had to climb into the driver’s side holding me and slip me into the passenger seat, keeping an arm or an elbow close to me so I had something to hold onto.

  I flinch at the clip of my seatbelt as he buckles me in. It sounds like the cocking of a gun.

  I don’t remember the drive. It’s just a blur of muted colour and broken time.

  I barely remember Jace parking, me clinging onto his arm as he led me through the sterile hallways, my eyes stinging at the salt from my tears and the glaring fluorescent lighting above, my nostrils filling wit
h the stink of antiseptic and death.

  Everything comes into sharp focus when I see Magnar’s deathly pale face through the small window of the door of the room he’s being kept in. Time speeds up again. Breath slamming back into my lungs.

  I break away from Jace’s hold and run towards him, breaking through to the cold room, a wall of disinfectant and what smells like copper hitting my nose. I almost turn back, terrified of the pale, seemingly insignificant body of the real-life god lying like a ghost in that bed.

  But I don’t.

  A reckless thought loops over and over in my head—if I could just kiss him, I could somehow breathe life into him. If I could touch him, I could heal him. Fix him the way he fixed me.

  X steps in my way and grabs me before I can get to my King.

  “Let me go,” I scream.

  “Elm, you have to calm down. Or they’ll come and kick you out.”

  Calm down. Calm down?

  I turn to X and rage takes over. I start to hit him, lashing out instead of accepting his embrace. I know deep down, it’s wrong. But I feel so fucking wretched, I want to tear everything down around me. Let the world fall apart on its knees beside me.

  “You did this!” I scream. “You fucking did this. You were supposed to protect him.”

  X doesn’t even defend himself. He lets me beat him, my tiny fists probably feeling like fly bites against his rock-hard muscles.

  “Waylyn!” Jace says.

  “Just let her,” X says quietly.

  He lets me wear myself out against him. He lets me rage against him, standing like a rock as he lets me break apart over him. He knows this is what I need. He knows that he is the only one who can give this to me.

  Finally, my punches slow, energy seeps out of me in a final rush. I collapse into his arms, broken. X holding my pieces together. I feel us moving, sinking. He must have lowered himself into a chair, holding me in his lap. His arms are firm shields around me. This is the longest X has ever held me. A tiny piece of my heart warms. Even as the rest remains cold.

  In my haze, I hear the slow beep of the heart rate monitor. The only signal that Magnar is still, in fact, alive.