Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

Piper

S ean leaves me with the Quinn doctor, and I try to reason with him and stop what I know is coming next. "I really am fine. I'd tell you if I wasn't. Sean shouldn't have bothered you."

Kelvin runs a hand through his ginger beard and sits on the coffee table opposite me. He's got a smattering of freckles covering his nose and cheeks, and kind eyes filled with understanding and a fair dose of pity.

"I understand that having me examine you is at the top of the list of things you don't want to do, but I answer to the Quinns, not you. Sean asked me to check you out, and that's what I'm here to do. Now, the quicker you let me do my thing, the sooner it will be over and I can give you something for the pain."

"But I don't want this—not any of it."

The doc sighs. "Aye, that's no surprise, but I promise I'm only here to confirm there's no internal bleeding or serious concern. The cuts and bruises don't worry me. You dying tonight in your sleep is more of a concern. What do you think it would do to the state of tension between the two families if the Quinns end up with Mattie McGuire's daughter dead in one of their safe houses?"

"It would start a bloodbath."

"Aye, that's the truth of it. And the people of Dublin deserve better than that—especially if it's preventable."

Well, I don't want to be responsible for that.

"You're a real doctor, right?"

He dips his chin. "Got the diploma and everything."

"And you can help with the pain?"

He winks and pats his bag. "I'm ready for anything."

It doesn't look like I have much of a choice. Still, I'm not sure how long Sean will wait in the kitchen, and I don't want him to see me in my underwear, all broken and bloody. The way he was clutching his gun a moment ago made me think he might stalk the streets of the south side looking to kill my attackers.

I can't let that happen.

Vladmir and Arkady are representatives of the Bratva. Me refusing sex with them is one thing. If they get gunned down in my father's territory during their stay, my entire family will be wiped out.

I need to diffuse this situation and the only way Sean will be satisfied is if the doc assures him I'm okay. I close my eyes and inhale a deep breath before nodding my consent. "All right, then. Make it quick. And I don't think I can raise my arms to get my dress off."

"That's fine. I'll cut it off and get you set up in this snazzy sweatsuit when we're done."

Despite my doubts, Doc Kelvin is remarkably professional. He probes my side, listens to my chest, examines all my gashes, and then wipes most of the blood away before helping me into an ugly gray tracksuit.

Moving around is hell, and by the time it's over, I'm sweating, dizzy, and ready to collapse.

Doc Kelvin gives me some space and goes over to push the kitchen door open. "Sean, the patient is ready for her tea now."

Sean returns to the sitting area carrying a tray of mugs and a creamer and sugar set. If I wasn't ready to pass out, I would make fun of the mean MC gang leader hosting a tea party.

"And here's your reward for being a good patient," Kelvin says, putting two white and one blue tablets into my hand. "These will ease the pain and help you sleep through the night so your body can heal."

"Thanks, Doc."

He winks at me and smiles. "Glad things weren't worse."

Sean hands me a cup of tea with milk and then focuses all his attention on Kelvin. "She's okay, then?"

"For the next week or two she'll have to accessorize to match black and blue, but she'll survive. The swelling to her face will likely get worse before it gets better, but her ocular bone is intact, and her vision doesn't seem compromised. A couple of her ribs are bruised, but I don't think anything is broken. Without x-rays, it's impossible to know for sure, but she would be in much greater pain and the treatment would be the same."

Sean offers the good doctor a cup of tea, but he declines, saying he's got a busy day tomorrow and should get some rest.

I swallow down my medication and lay back against the arm of the sofa. "Good night, Doc."

"Good night, sweetheart. Have Sean call me if anything crops up and you feel worse."

"Aye, thanks again."

Sean walks him to the door. The two of them share a few whispered words of goodbye, but I don't care. The tea is warming my insides, and the pills will soon drag me into a blissful slumber.

Then I can wake up and this will all be a bad dream.

If only that were true.

When it's just the two of us once again, Sean locks the door and turns off the overhead light. It's late and he must be as exhausted as I am. But when he moves to the fireplace to poke the flames and set another log on the fire, I realize he's not ready to call it a night.

Shadows light up his face as the flames dance, highlighting his powerful jaw and the scar that trails from the bottom of his cheek bone through his lip. His hair is the same ebony black as all the Quinn brothers, but his is the longest. It goes well with his gang leader persona.

As he crosses the room toward me, my gaze tracks his confident gait, the way his muscled chest fills out his leather vest, and how his ripped jeans hug his hips. He's hot, but more than his looks, his presence consumes the air around us.

When he sits in the chair opposite me, I give myself an inward shake. Why the hell am I checking out a man who is the sworn enemy of my family instead of trying to escape? Maybe I took one too many hits to the head.

"I'm glad you'll heal up." He claims his mug and sinks deeper into his chair. "Now, I need you to tell me who laid the beating on you."

"Why?"

"So I can handle them."

His gaze is stern and unapologetic. He doesn't even try to mask that when he says ‘handle' them, he means by cutting off their balls or dropping them into the sea. But if the two Russians meeting with my father go missing, it will be my family that pays the price.

"Sorry. I don't need your help."

He arches an ebony brow, and I try not to get swallowed up by his bright green eyes. All five of the Quinn brothers are heart- stoppingly handsome, but Sean isn't the pretty boy that Tag and Finn are. And he isn't a pumped up beast out for blood like Brendan and Bryan.

He's dangerous—that's a given—and looks even deadlier because of his glare and that scar. He leaves his hair long to hide it, but I've always thought it was sexy.

Not that he ever noticed me. He's ten years older than me and at the few events where we crossed paths, he usually called me kid or told me I looked cute.

Fingers snap close to my face, and I blink.

"Earth to Piper."

"Sorry, the pills are really kicking my butt. Did you say something?"

"You were about to tell me who did this to you."

Nice try. I'm not that out of it . "Muggers." My eyes drift shut as a yawn escapes. "I met friends at the old Hard Rock Hotel. It was bought up by NYX and has been remodeled. We had drinks, then when I left, I got jumped."

He frowns. "You left the hotel alone? I don't believe that for a moment. There's no way your father let you go out wearing a dress like that and didn't have someone on you."

Right. I forgot he knows all about how crime families work. "Ryan had to go and left one of the new guys to bring me home—I forget his name—but he kept his distance to let me have fun and then, when I went out to look for him at the end of the night, I didn't see him."

"Uh-huh. So, you walked out of the hotel alone, and you were mugged?"

"They must've been waiting in the shadows by the parking lot. They were brutal and left me lying on the pavement after they took my money."

"I see. And where did they go? Did they jump into a truck, a car? Did you get a plate number?"

"I didn't see. I never moved until they were gone."

"Didn't anyone see you there? Other people in the car park? That's a busy hotel."

"No. I didn't want to be seen. I thought they might come back, so, when I could breathe again, I ran across the bridge."

"And that's when I found you?"

"Aye, it is."

"And that's the whole story?"

"Aye, that's right."

He tilts his head and chuckles. "Not a bad lie for the spur of the moment."

"What? That's what happened."

"No, it's not, but I'd rather we stop talking about it if you're going to lie to me. You were mugged, but you have your purse. You were outside the hotel, but you went through a glass table. You thought they might come back, but you didn't contact your father or any of your brothers—the men who own that entire territory."

Ugh…my mind is so fuzzy from pain, exhaustion, and the pills, I can't even think. "I can't tell you what really happened, Sean. I just can't."

"That's fine. Come, I'll carry you upstairs and we'll figure out your next move in the morning. You're done for tonight."

Sean is incredibly gentle as strong arms scoop under my knees, and he lifts me off the couch. He holds me close as he carries me up the stairs, and the warmth of his body seeps into mine.

I lay my cheek against his chest and close my eyes. He smells like leather and that expensive tobacco he was smoking earlier. "Thank you for being kind to me, Sean. I know it isn't good for business, but I truly appreciate the save."

He lays me on the bed and helps get the duvet over me. "I'll leave the bathroom light on down the hall. If you need anything, just holler. I'll crash in the room across the hall. And don't worry, Piper. Whoever did this to you, won't get near you again. I've got you."

Despite Doc Kelvin's hope that the meds he gave me would help me sleep, every time I move, my ribs cry out, or the torn flesh of my cheek presses on the pillow. There are also moments when I wake up screaming.

I cut off the panic as soon as I realize I'm not actually being sold to the Russian mafia. Then I remember—I am.

My father threw me in as an incentive for a gun deal.

Aside from his betrayal gutting me—that can't be legal. Not that legalities hold any importance when dealing with crime families. Still, I'm almost twenty years old and I have rights. I'm an adult.

I get a say in my life, don't I?

Why would I think that when I've never had one yet?

So, here I am, lying in a strange bed, in the house of my father's enemy, beaten and broken by two men my father traded me to. I can't tell Sean any of it because I know better than to betray my father.

Except…he betrayed me first.

I don't know how to fix this, but confiding in the Quinns and accepting their help would be considered unforgivable. Not that I'm in any shape to refuse Sean's help. Ugh, it's an impossible situation.

The gashes on my legs sting, my bruised ribs refuse to let me take in enough oxygen, my vision is wonky, and my mouth is foul with the taste of blood.

And I'm sure I look worse than I feel.

Muggers? Did I really think he'd fall for that?

I regret that while he was being kind to me, I lied to him in return. There's no way I could've told him the truth. The guns I was helping Da secure were to strengthen the McGuire position against his family.

What was Da thinking signing away his ‘good girl'?

I wouldn't even be a twenty-year-old virgin if he hadn't been so controlling and insisted on one of my brothers escorting me on every date I've ever been on. Hell, not just dates, but every time I left the house.

Was he planning on this all along? Was he controlling my V-card to play it when it suited him best? I know that arranged marriages between mafia families strengthen alliances but that's so last century.

I'm his daughter, for fuck's sake.

How could he want that for me? He didn't even talk to me first. He just dressed me up like a sexy present and told me not to fuck up. He told me to make them happy and give them anything they wanted.

Anything they wanted .

My stomach rolls, but I fight the nausea. I'm in no shape to be running down the hall to throw up. Still, I can't stop the tears.

Why should I worry about betraying Da when he betrayed me in the worst way possible? How will I ever look at him again? What kind of man gives his daughter away like that? As if I'm nothing more than a pawn for him to use in his games.

My brothers were brought up to run the family business and my mother has always held my father's ear.

Is it so wrong that I wanted that, too?

Da believes there's no place for women when running a business like ours—too much emotion. He totally dismissed that I'm smart and capable and strong enough to be equal to my brothers.

I doubt I'll ever get that chance after last night.

And certainly not if anyone finds out I'm here.

Not making a sound, I creep out my bedroom door and glance up and down the hall. Sean left the bathroom light on for me, so it's not hard to find my way there. After the drinks at dinner and then tea to take off the chill, I'm desperate to pee.

The door across the hall is open a crack, but I fight the urge to peek in and see if Sean's sleeping. I need to pee and get home before Da sends my brothers out searching for me.

They may not think to look on the north side of the Liffey but if Vladmir and Arkady tell them I ran across the bridge to get away from them, they'll find out.

Sean has been decent, but there's no guarantee Tag or the other brothers will be. I'm no safer here than I would be back home.

Not that I can go home.

After what happened, Da will be furious. There's a good chance I blew the gun deal and that will fall at my feet. The sad thing is, given the choice, I would do the same thing again.

Not that I can tell him that .

What can I tell him?

"Sorry, Da, I wouldn't lay down and open my legs for two ugly brutes who think they own me. Get the guns some other way."

Da would beat me for disobeying him. A beating on top of a beating doesn't appeal to me.

I wince and hold in a whimper as I bend to sit on the toilet and can barely believe that the hip and legs I'm looking at are mine. Last night, I didn't even feel the damage to my legs, but this must be from when I crashed to the floor after going through the table.

Wow, fear and adrenaline really kept the reality of my injuries at bay.

It's a struggle to get up, but I grip the vanity countertop on one side and the towel rail on the other. Biting back the pain, I manage to get to my feet.

I'm upright, but I won't be winning any races today.

I finish in the bathroom, my mind spinning in circles as I step back into the hallway. Sean is there, shirtless, unshaven and looking sleepy, with his ebony hair tangled and tousled, hanging to his shoulders.

Sweet Mother Mary, my ovaries have just exploded.

Sean is even more ridiculously hot than I imagined. In high school, when we read Romeo and Juliet in English class, I had a few Capulet and Montague sexual fantasies.

Tag was too intense for me, Finn was quiet and a bit sulky, and the twins, Bryan and Brendan, were sexy but too crazy. Sean always played the part of my Romeo.

He was older, broody, tattooed, and carried a scar on the outside while I always carried my scar within. He's dark and dangerous. The ultimate bad guy.

But that was a schoolgirl's daydream. There is no way I could fantasize about him in the real world.

Quinns are off-limits to me.

Still, I'm about to melt into a puddle at his feet. With no shirt, there's nothing covering the intricate fretwork of Celtic knotwork and fae gods covering his arms, chest, and back.

Does the masterpiece continue below the boxers?

"Are you all right?" His voice is graveled and husky with sleep. He runs his hand over his abs, scratching at the dusting of ebony hair trailing beneath the waistband of his boxers. "Did you get any sleep?"

I snap my attention back up to his face. "A little. I'm sore and feeling pretty rough, but I'm alive, thanks to you. And don't worry. I was staring at the ceiling, thinking of where I can go, and I have a plan. I'll be out of your hair first thing in the morning."

He frowns. "Where you can go? You're not planning to go home to your father?"

"No."

His gaze narrows. "Why did you flinch when I mentioned going home? Did your father do this to you? Is that why you crossed the bridge?"

I swallow and stare at the carpet runner on the floor. Damn. He sees too much and when I look into his emerald eyes, I say too much. "No. Da didn't beat me."

But he might as well have.

"Was it one of your brothers?"

I meet his gaze. "They would never. My brothers might be rough around the edges, but they love me. They'd never hurt me."

"Yet you didn't say the same to defend your father. Why? What did he do, Piper?"

I push past him and shuffle down the hallway. "Nothing. My father loves me. I'm barely awake. I didn't mean to imply differently."