Chapter 10

Tag

Ileave my American beauty to shower and force myself not to think about her getting naked on the other side of the door. There's no point. Now that she knows who I am and has seen the ugliness of my world, the moment she can run, she will.

She's likely in there wondering how to squeeze herself out the tiny bathroom window.

I stride down the hallway to the spare bedroom on the left. There's a duffle in the closet that I keep here just in case. Pulling it out, I drop it on the bed and open the zipper.

I take the three guns and set them on the bed with the box of ammo that goes with them. The bundles of cash can stay too. It's the clothes I'm after tonight.

Laine has no use for dress clothes, so my workout casuals will have to do.

I'm a solid foot taller than her, so she'll have to roll up the pantlegs, but the drawstring on my workout pants will keep them on her hips. I tug them out and grab a clean black t-shirt and a pair of dry socks.

With her sorted, I pull out a knit Henley and undo the buttons of my shirt. It's soaked…first because she had me running through the streets in the rain and then with her tears over forgetting her mother's remains in my office.

Her heartache pulled at something inside me.

There's a strength in her that draws me in.

I toss my wet shirt in the clothes hamper in Rose's room and then lay the dry workout clothes outside the bathroom door for Laine to find.

With that taken care of, I return the guns and money into the duffle, zip it up, and set it back into the closet of the spare room.

On my way back downstairs, I pause at the bathroom door and listen to make sure she's all right.

There's a steady shuffle of motion and images of her peeling off the last of her wet clothes fill my mind. I'd offer to help if I thought I was welcome.

Ugh…just the thought has things stiffening again.

I cut the daydreaming off and curse myself.

Having tea with Rose while sporting a solid mickey in my pants is bad form. Not that I have much hope of calming the poor boy down.

As pissed as I am about the McGuires shooting up Jimmy's pub, I think I'm even more pissed that they interrupted me before I got inside Miss Laine O'Neill.

That woman's got pluck. And her body was so responsive.

I groan and look down at my crotch. "Sorry, sham. Luck was not on our side tonight."

The shower comes on and I hear the hiss of the spray shift as she steps under the water. She obviously hasn't melted into a puddle of emotional turmoil—which is good—so I take that as my cue to leave and go back downstairs.

The pot is set in the middle of the table, and I settle in my usual seat.

"What's the smile, lad? It wouldn't have anything to do with the long-haired lass with the tortured eyes, would it?"

I reach back to snag the tea towel off the handle of the stove and pat my face and neck dry. "She's an American I met over dinner at Jimmy's. Don't send out the invitations just yet."

Rose chuckles and pours me a cup of tea. "Well, she's a step up from your usual playthings. This one looks like she might even have a brain in her head."

"And fire in her soul," I add. "She led me on a jaunty chase through the streets tonight and honestly, I don't know why I followed instead of just letting her go and doubling back to check on the lads. If she doesn't want me to keep her alive, why should I care?"

Rose chuckles. "Because you're not the monster you think you are."

I scoff. "You are the only one who can say things like that to me and get away with it."

"Aye, I know. So, tell me what happened."

I lift my mug to my lips and blow over the piping hot surface. "It seems Mattie McGuire is making a play for all of Dublin."

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. That man has a brain the size of a bean and a cock to match."

I swallow my tea and try not to choke. "I'll take your word for it."

"Unfortunately, I know of what I speak."

Oof, I really don't want to think about that. "Size must not matter because he produced six sons."

"Six Neanderthal eejits, you mean."

Rose isn't wrong. The McGuire boys definitely swim in the shallow end of the gene pool.

"And so, four of those Neanderthals busted into Jimmy's tonight and unloaded their AKs regardless of the crowd."

Rose gasped. "In a pub full of locals?"

"Aye. They came for me and didn't care who else got caught in the crossfire."

"And yet here you sit." Rose toasts that by raising her ceramic mug.

"Aye, here I sit." I pull my phone out of my pocket and frown at the cracked glass. "Not the only casualty of the night, I expect."

Rose pushes a plate of shortbread biscuits toward me, and I pop one in my mouth and crunch down on the buttery bliss while I work to get my phone working.

"I've got a burner or two in the cupboard, lad. Give me a moment."

While she goes to the living room, I drop my phone into my pocket and press my hands flat on the table.

The rage burning through me is making me homicidal. Sometimes in my business, collateral damage is unavoidable, but Da brought us up to live by a code.

Innocents, women, and children are out of bounds. Mattie McGuire knows this and crossed a line by sending his eejit sons into Jimmy's pub during the evening rush.

That can't go unchallenged.

"Here you are, lad." Rose hands me a phone still encased in its plastic packaging, and I lean to the side and grab the kitchen scissors from the drawer.

"Grand. Thanks for this."

"Not to worry. Just get control of this mess before it spills into the streets."

"I'll do my best."

"Well, your best has always been good enough for me."

I cut open the packaging and in under three minutes, I have the burner phone plugged in and am watching it, waiting for it to have enough power to work.

There's something relaxing about being in this kitchen. It's warm and smells of the potatoes and cabbage she made for supper. The thought of Rose's colcannon makes my mouth water, but I don't have time tonight.

I glance up at the ceiling and listen. The water is still running upstairs, so I have a few minutes to sort out the night before things get more complicated.

Rose drops a folded newspaper on the table and points to the headline. "Your brother is in the news again, lad. You've got to keep Finn behind the scenes better. It's dangerous for all of you to have him be so visible."

I frown at the picture of my youngest brother there in black and white. Thankfully, the caption is just about the criminal element in the streets. He isn't identified by name, but anyone who knows him will see that it's him beneath that hoodie.

"I'll talk to him. He's still having a hard time."

She nods. "He's always been the emotional one. But with your father gone, you're the one who needs to set the tone for the family."

I take a deep breath, letting Rose's words sink in.

She's right. As always.

It doesn't matter that my brothers and I are mourning the death of our father. The other families, the locals, and the authorities, are all watching us and waiting for us to make a mistake.

I can't afford to let emotions get the best of me, not when the Quinn family's reputation is on the line. Da worked hard to build our empire and sacrificed too much. I won't let it crumble beneath our feet.

The McGuires are relentless, but the Quinns have a much bigger army of soldiers and are smarter. And the families beyond the city won't risk coming at us directly because we control the ports and piers all along the coast.

"I'll make it clear who's in power in this city, Rose. I'll show them."

"You best do it quickly, lad, because if the McGuires get their claws in Dublin, your sainted father will turn over in his grave."

"I'll never let that happen."

After a long sip of tea, I set down my mug and turn on the phone Rose gave me. I need to tighten things up until I squash the doubters.

Tipping back the last of my tea, I move to the front room and watch the street out the window. Burner phone in hand, I dial up Aiden to get an update on the situation.

"Who is this and what the fuck do you want?"

I chuckle at my captain's greeting. "It's me, Viking, and I want to know what the fuck we missed."

"Whose phone are you on? I don't know the number. Is it clean?"

"It's a burner. Now, talk."

Aiden spends the next five minutes filling me in on what happened after I took my leave. Jimmy and Ginny kept the McGuires locked down near the front entrance, and once the shooting started, my guys struck hard and fast.

"They took to the street as quick as a whip," Aiden says. "They turned tail fast, and our guys know better than to shoot to kill with the McGuires. No one wants to bring a clan war to a head, so we let them drive off."

"Any casualties?"

"Darcy and Declan both took damage, and my sources say their Doc left his home and got to the McGuire's soon after."

I chuckle. "Niall isn't sharing his vet?"

"I don't think the bastard shares well with others."

"Never did."

"Right, so they'll be patched up soon enough, I'm sure."

"And Mattie more pissed than ever."

"Likely so. Especially because we took out their driver and captured the two from the rooftops."

"We have them locked down?"

"Snug as little bugs."

"Excellent. Bring my truck around to Rose's place and pick us up."

"On my way."

After hanging up, I call Jimmy next.

"What?" he snaps on the fourth ring.

"Jimmy, man, it's me."

"Oi, kid. What the fuck? Did you know they were out for blood?"

I sigh. "I would never have led them to the pub if I did—you know that."

There's a long pause where Jimmy muffles the conversation on the other end before coming back to the call. "Look, kid. I gotta book it. I've got cops crawling up my arse and Ginny's already primed to shoot."

"Okay, I just wanted to apologize and, of course, assure you that I'll pick up the tab for the repairs."

"You bet your arse you will and I'm adding extra for the pain and suffering of the staff and clientele. We sent three to St. James, kid, and another dozen likely shoulda joined them."

That people got hurt boils my blood.

Mattie McGuire will pay for this. Blood for blood.

"Fair enough. Whatever it takes to set us square. Oh, and one other thing."

Jimmy curses on the other end of the line. "You're in no position to ask me for favors at the moment, kid."

"You're right, but it's not for me. Do you remember the brunette I took into my office?"

"Fuck's sake. I seriously don't have time?—"

"It's important, Jimmy." I raise my voice and he stops grousing. "The woman brought her mam's urn to have a send-off drink. In the chaos, she left it in my office. Can you ask Ginny to have a look for me? It's her fuckin' mam."

There's a pause on the other end of the line before Jimmy lets off a long string of curses. "Aye, of course. We'll have a look."

The line goes dead before I can thank him, and I squeeze the phone until my hand aches and the resin case of the phone begins to crack.

Fuck. It's the only connection I have to my army, so I fight every instinct I have to throw the thing across the fucking room.

The stairs creak and I turn the torch on the phone and flash some light to where Laine is coming down. "Better?"

She sets a pile of wet clothes on the shoe mat by the door and stares at me. "The shower helped, but I'm running out of steam. Any chance I can convince you to let me go back to the inn? I'd like to go to bed and pretend none of this ever happened."

I shake my head. "Sorry. Not tonight, at least."

She sighs. "Do you really think they'd come after me, knowing we just met a couple of hours ago?"

No. I can't say they would.

In the heat of the moment, that was my fear, but as the adrenaline dies down, I realize how remote that chance truly is. I'm not ready for her to go back, but it's not because of the McGuires.

It's because I'm not done with her.

I've got the taste of her still on my tongue and her sweet smell in my nose.

I've got an iron-hard cock in my pants and no interest in going home and stroking off.

I've got images of her throwing her head back while her insides milked my fingers as she came apart in my arms.

I'm not done with her—not by a long shot.

"Give me a chance to find out what the Maguires are up to and make sure you haven't been drawn into it. Then we'll talk about parting ways."

Thankfully, she's tired and, for once, doesn't fight me on things. "Fine. Then what's the plan?"

"Aiden's on his way. It's time to take our leave."

"We're leaving? Why not stay here?"

I make a quick scan of the sleepy street outside. Nothing seems out of place. We weren't followed. "I need to follow up with my people. Very few people know of my connection with Rose, and I'd like to keep it that way. I don't want her in danger because of my family."

She studies me as I speak and I'm not sure what she sees, but the tension eases out of her shoulders. "All right. If you insist."

Good girl. She gathers her sneakers and sits on the stairs to slip them on. Even in the dim light of the hallway, I admire the gentle waves of her damp chestnut hair and the natural beauty of her face without makeup.

Then, she leans forward to tie up her shoes and I admire the way the t-shirt I gave her stretches to accommodate the lush curves of her tits. They hang heavy and sway as she gets her shoes on.

I adjust myself as discretely as I can manage and fight not to groan.

When she stands, I consider how easy it would be to pull the drawstring of my jogging pants and watch them fall to the floor.

Call me a caveman, but her wearing my clothes stirs something primal in me—something that demands that I not let her get away before I sample the sweet seduction that lies beneath them.

Not that I can do anything about that right now.

Or possibly ever.

She knows who I am now and if the cruelties of my reality have taught me one thing, it's that men like me don't inspire love.

And even though she knows I'm no saint, she has no idea how much of a monster I truly am.

No one does.

When she stands and gathers her wet clothes from the floor, I grab my boots and pull them on. "Does this mean I won't have to chase you down the street?"

"Not tonight, at least," she says, repeating my own words back at me. "I'm too tired and you'd just drag me back, anyway."

Smart woman. "Aye, I would. And so you know…I phoned Jimmy and asked him to find your mam and have Ginny take care of her until we can get back."

Her hand comes up to press against her chest. "Thank you. That means a lot."

I dip my chin. "And since you're resourceful and likely spent every moment under the spray of hot water planning your escape, I'll remind you that not only would it be reckless with the McGuire boys running hot, but you wouldn't be able to get your mam back to send her off proper."

Her gaze narrows and I chuckle. "Och, you didn't think of that?"

She bites her bottom lip and strides over to look out the window. "I considered running, but you know my name, and given the men at your beck and call, it would take you ten minutes to call the inns within walking distance to the pub to find out I'm registered at the Gilford."

"Glad we understand one another."

Her gaze is hard and unreadable as she takes me in. "I understand more than you think."

I doubt that's true.

I don't underestimate the intelligence shimmering behind those dark brown eyes for a second. There's more to her than she lets on, and the prospect of solving that mystery has its hooks in me.

But it's been a long and tiring night and I've got hours ahead of me before it'll be over. For now, Miss Laine O'Neill can keep her secrets.

But tomorrow is another day.

Headlights sweep across the front window, and she steps back. "Someone's here."

I peek out and nod. "That's Aiden. Let's go."