Chapter 17

Cian

“W e’re just going to the bar near my house,” Myla said, sounding like she wished she could reach through the phone and strangle me. “There’s three of us, and we can all walk home together.”

“Oh, now you’re walkin’ home?” I bit out, staring at my empty bay.

I should’ve known shit was going to go wrong when I’d checked the schedule that morning and realized it was going to be a slow day. Irritating shit always happened on slow days. People got hurt doing stupid shit. Everyone was pissy because they had too much time on their hands.

“Cian, it’s right down the road. It takes like five minutes to walk home.”

“Myla,” I murmured, walking outside. “We’ve been together how long?”

“ Together together?” she asked. “Two months.”

“And in all that time, have you walked any-fuckin’-where?”

“No,” she replied, drawing out the word. “But we’re usually together, and tonight we will not be .”

“I’m not cool with you and Lou and Frankie goin’ out without someone watchin’ your backs.”

“I’m a full-grown adult!”

“I’m aware of that.”

“We’ve been going out on our own for years. Literal years, Cian.”

“You’ve been ridin’ home on the back of my bike most of those years,” I argued.

“Not every time.”

“Most of the time.”

“You’re being crazy. I wasn’t calling you for permission. The girls and I have barely hung out at all since you and I started sleeping together. This is a call to tell you I’m going out tonight.”

“You need a break from me, that what you’re sayin’?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying, and don’t try to flip this shit around.”

“I thought you were comin’ to Saoirse’s birthday tonight,” I ground out. “You blowin’ her off?”

“No, I’m not,” Myla shot back. “We’re going after the party.”

“Take Bas,” I ordered. It seemed like a good compromise. She wasn’t lying, we’d barely spent any time apart in the last couple of months. If she wanted to go blow off some steam with her best friends, I didn’t give a shit. It was the idea of her going without anyone keeping an eye out for them that made alarm bells go off in my head.

“It wouldn’t be a girls’ night if Bas was there.”

“Bas hangs with you guys all the time.”

“Oh, my god. I’m done with this conversation.”

“Don’t fuckin’ hang—” The words weren’t out of my mouth before she hung up on me. “Fuck,” I bellowed, squeezing the phone in my fist to keep myself from throwing it.

Myla had always pushed my buttons, but it was safe to say that since we’d started sleeping together, the button pushing had started to feel more like I was getting smacked with a fucking hammer.

“I’m guessin’ that was my daughter?” Tommy asked, strolling toward me with a joint between his lips.

“How could you tell?” I asked.

“Shit, man,” he said with a laugh, taking the joint from his mouth. “You’re wearin’ my expression. Pretty sure I look exactly like that when Heather’s pissin’ me off.”

“I’m fine,” I replied.

“You look like you could flip over a car,” he mused. He pointed across the forecourt. “Try that one. It’s a piece of shit anyway.”

“I’m good.”

“She’s gonna annoy the hell outta you,” Tommy said with a shrug. “But the rest of her makes it all worth it. Take it from someone who knows.”

“I know she’s worth it.” I replied. “Plan on marryin’ her.”

“That didn’t sound like you were askin’ permission.”

“Because I wasn’t. I’d be happy for it,” I admitted. “But I’d marry her without it.”

“You do realize I could have you killed?”

“I’m aware of that, yeah,” I conceded.

Tommy laughed quietly and then nodded.

“She wants to go out bar hoppin’ with the girls,” I muttered after a few minutes of silence.

“The Three Musketeers strike again.”

“Somethin’ like that.”

“Who gives a fuck?”

“They wanna go without any protection.”

Tommy scoffed. “Dream on, daughter.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Bet that went over well.”

“She’s bein’ stubborn.”

“My daughter?” he asked in mock surprise. “Don’t believe it.”

“It’s fine,” I mumbled. “I’ll talk to her at Saoirse’s thing tonight.”

“We’re invited to that?” he asked curiously.

“Yep.”

“I’m sure Heather’s got it on her little calendar,” he said with a shrug. “I just go where she tells me. Easier that way.”

I nodded. I was going to see Myla in a few hours and we could work things out face to face. There was no reason to get all wound up about it. She’d either willingly take someone with her, or I’d get one of the boys to follow them around like the Secret Service. She could choose. I didn’t care how pissed she was about it.

As I went back into the garage to see if anyone could use some help, I couldn’t quite shake the feeling in my gut that something wasn’t right.

It didn’t make any sense. Everyone was doing well. Shit had been quiet. Aoife had found a job, and Sean was loving staying home with Aunt Ashley all day, tromping around in the rain. Aisling was healed—or at least the visible wounds were—and she’d started taking on a few tattoo clients twice a week. Ronan had moved out and was currently searching for an apartment for him and Aisling to share. Saoirse was Saoirse, taking care of her own shit and not making a big deal about it.

Things with Myla had been good, too. Great, actually. We’d always fit. We’d always liked spending time with each other more than anyone else. Now we had the added benefit of incredible sex and her whispering she loved me as she fell asleep at night. Only two things would’ve made it better—if she’d stop being such a pain in my ass and if she had a ring on her finger. The first thing was never going to change, but I’d already started making plans for the second.

There was a diamond ring currently burning a hole in my saddlebag.

It was probably way too soon for that shit, but it was us. Myla and I had started long before we’d made it official.

“You need anythin’?” I asked Gray, wandering over to the Corvette he was working on.

“Uh—” He was elbows deep in the engine and barely paying attention. After a moment, he looked up. “What?”

“You need any help? It’s slow as shit in here.”

“Nah, I’m good,” he muttered distractedly. Then his eyes seemed to sharpen as he looked at me closely. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’.”

“Somethin’ is.”

I shook my head.

“Spill,” he ordered, straightening fully.

“Nothin’,” I repeated. “I’m serious.”

“Bullshit.”

We stared at each other for a minute, and I knew that he wasn’t going to let me walk away.

“Got a feelin’,” I finally said. I sounded like a fucking moron.

“Yeah?”

“It’s nothin’,” I assured him. “Things are good, which is probably why it feels like the sky’s gonna fall at any minute.”

Gray’s lips twitched. “Come on, Chicken Little.”

I’d walked right into that one. I wasn’t sure if Wanker or Chicken Little was worse. Hopefully the name didn’t stick.

I followed Gray through the garage and into the clubhouse where Grease and Casper were sitting at the bar.

“Hey, Gramps,” Gray called out. “You got anythin’ new?”

“Things are quiet,” Casper replied, looking us over. “Why?”

“Chicken Little’s got a feelin’,” Gray replied.

Fuck me.

Grease laughed. “Sky’s fallin’? Might just be indigestion, kid.”

“I told him it was probably nothin’,” I agreed.

“The spot between my shoulder blades has been itchin’ all day,” Gray told his grandfather quietly.

“What the hell does that mean?” I asked.

“Feels like there’s a target on your back,” Grease explained quietly.

“I can reach out,” Casper said. “See if I hear anything.”

“I’m gonna do the same,” Gray replied. He looked at me. “You talked to your sisters today?”

“This mornin’,” I confirmed. “They’re fine.”

“Good.”

“You think this might have somethin’ to do with Richie?” I asked. We’d stopped having the house watched almost a month ago. Things had been all quiet on that front.

“Could be,” Gray said. “Probably not. Club’s got a few irons in the fire that we’re monitorin’. Could be somethin’ else. Could be nothin’.”

“Trust your gut, kid,” Grease ordered, pointing at me with his coffee mug. “Best advice anyone ever gave me. Saved my ass more than a few times.”

“ My gut’s saved your ass more than a few times,” Casper corrected.

“That too.” Grease saluted him.

“It’s probably nothin’,” I said again. “Myla’s tryin’ to take her girls out tonight and they’re all fired up to go without protection—”

Both the older men laughed.

“That’s probably all it is.”

“You gonna let her?” Casper asked curiously.

“Nobody lets Myla do shit,” I replied. “She does whatever the fuck she wants. But, no. I’m gonna see if Bas will go with ’em.”

“Yeah, sounds about right,” Grease said with a chuckle. “Christ, I’m glad that shit is behind me.”

“Speak for yourself,” Casper replied. “My woman’s still fuckin’ crazy.”

“You’ve already got a plan for that,” Gray pointed out. “That’s not what’s fuckin’ with ya.”

“I was raised in a house where our mother came home plastered and picked fights with my older sister on the regular,” I replied. “I wasn’t jokin’ when I said it was probably nothin’. If shit’s goin’ good, I’m waitin’ on the other shoe to drop.”

“Sounds to me like you’ve got a finely honed sense of impending trouble,” Casper corrected. “Not a bad thing to have.”

“I’ll make some calls,” Gray told me. “Keep an eye out.”

“Always,” I said as he walked away.

“Get used to livin’ with that sense of doom,” Casper warned. “Trust me on this—Myla won’t mellow with age.”

“Fantastic,” I muttered.

The rest of the day dragged by. I ended up leaving an hour early—which made me feel like a chump—because there wasn’t anything for me to do. I stopped on the way home to grab Saoirse a gift card to a shop she liked in town and made it home just in time to find Noel sweeping off the front porch.

“What the hell are you doin’?” I asked. “You realize that people are gonna be draggin’ shit all over that in a couple of hours, right?”

“That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t clean it now,” she replied primly.

“It’s a family birthday party,” I said, taking the broom from her hands. “The porch looks fine.”

“It’s the first time I’m hosting,” she said as she followed me inside. “We always have parties over at Tommy and Heather’s.”

“The house looks great,” I replied. I wasn’t lying. She’d swept and mopped and dusted and who the fuck knew what else, and the house smelled like lemon cleaner and whatever the candle was that I could see burning on the kitchen island. “Aoife’s bringin’ the food, right?”

“That’s what she said,” Noel confirmed with a nod. “I told her we’d get drinks. You picked them up last night, right?”

“They’re in a cooler in the garage. I’ll have Bas or Titus help me carry the cooler to the front porch when they get home.”

“I can help you.”

“It’s full of soda, beer, and ice.”

“No problem.”

“Not happenin’.”

“Why are you home from work so early?” Noel asked as she walked with me to the kitchen.

“Finished the truck I was workin’ on yesterday, and they didn’t have anythin’ for me. I spent all day cleanin’ the garage and takin’ inventory.”

“Poor Cian,” she teased.

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered.

“Well, you can help me put up the decorations if you want?”

“You bought decorations?”

“Just streamers and balloons,” she replied offhandedly. “And a banner. No big deal.”

“You realize Saoirse is an adult, right?” I asked slowly.

“Yes, I’ve met your sister.” She huffed. “Everyone likes it when you make their birthday special. It doesn’t matter how old you are.”

“If you say so.”

“You don’t have to help me,” she said, walking over to the back door to pick up a paper grocery bag. “I don’t mind hanging this stuff myself. It’s actually kind of relaxing to get things done without the girls trying to help.”

“Where are my girls?” I asked, giving in to the inevitable.

“They were all up at six o’clock this morning,” Noel complained. “So they all fell asleep at nap time.”

“Nice.”

“It would’ve been a lot nicer if they weren’t up at six,” she said dryly as she handed me a package of streamers. “But, yeah. They rarely take naps at the same time anymore.”

“I don’t remember the last time Ariel took a nap.”

“Me either.”

I followed her around the kitchen with a step stool, using thumbtacks to connect the crepe paper streamers to the ceiling so she could twist and drape them across the room. It took longer than I expected because she had to keep walking around to look at them from different angles to make sure it was how she wanted it.

“Thanks for helping me,” Noel said happily while we blew up balloons. “We haven’t seen you much lately.”

“Yeah, we figured it was probably a good idea to sleep at Myla’s.”

She smiled. “I think Titus appreciates that.”

“I bet.” I wouldn’t want to be just down the hall from one of my little sisters and her man. The thought of it made me want to smash something or vomit.

“Things are good with Myla?” Noel asked. “You two seem happy.”

“Yeah, they’re fine.”

“Uh-oh,” Noel murmured.

“We’re good.”

“Your words say good,” she joked. “Your tone says not-so-good.”

“They’re great, you busybody.”

Noel giggled.

“She’s just pissed at me because she wants to go out with Lou and Frankie tonight, and I said she needed to take someone with her.” I lifted my hand when Noel opened her mouth. “Doesn’t have to be me. They could bring Bas or one of the other boys.”

“The fact that you think that you can win that fight is adorable,” she said easily.

“Those three nutcases aren’t goin’ out and getting’ hammered without someone watchin’ their backs.”

“Yes, you know that,” Noel said. “And I know that. Even Myla knows that. But you knew before you said anything about it that she was going to argue. Why didn’t you just send someone with them without trying to order her around about it? Now, it’s a fight. She’s not going to give an inch.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Neither does you fighting with her over something you both know will happen anyway,” she said smugly. “I think you like it.”

“Like what?”

“Arguing with Myla. You’re into it.”

“It’s irritatin’ as hell.”

“You’re still into it.”

“I’m not.”

Noel just shrugged. “Whatever you say.”

“If you could irritate Titus once in a while, I’d feel a whole lot better,” I said, lifting a balloon to my mouth.

“I irritate him plenty,” she replied, raising her eyebrows.

I looked at her skeptically over the top of the rapidly growing balloon.

“All relationships are different,” Noel said with a smile as she pulled the banner out of the bag. “We usually just argue in private.”

“That’s fair,” I replied, tying off the balloon.

“I like you and Myla together,” Noel said with a hum. “You’re a good fit.”

“Can’t argue with you there.”

“But you need to learn to pick your battles,” she scolded gently.

“That might work if she wasn’t such a lunatic,” I replied.

Noel laughed.

We spent another twenty minutes hanging the balloons where the little girls couldn’t reach them and the Happy Birthday banner across the opening between the kitchen and the living room. As we finished, Titus let himself in the back door.

“Looks good in here, sugar,” he said, looking around.

“Thanks, baby,” I replied flatly.

“You got roped into helpin’?” he asked, smiling.

“Came home early.”

“I told him I could do it myself,” Noel announced, walking over to give Titus a kiss.

“She wanted to help me carry the cooler to the porch.”

Titus frowned. “Yeah, right.”

“That’s what I said.”

“I could do it,” Noel said in exasperation.

“That cooler weighs about half as much as you do,” Titus argued. “There’s no way in hell.”

“Let’s go to the garage,” Noel persisted. “I’ll show you.”

“Nope.” He grabbed her waist and yanked her toward him, wrapping his arms around her as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

I took that as my cue to leave.

Upstairs, I quietly gathered some clothes and hopped in the shower. We’d decided to have Saoirse’s birthday party at my place since this house had a lot more room than Aunt Ashley’s. Aoife wasn’t happy about it, but Saoirse had been spending some time with Noel, and she’d mentioned inviting their little family to her birthday dinner. Since Saoirse had never been great at making friends, Aoife acted like it was the best idea ever.

I checked my phone as soon as I’d gotten dressed, but I didn’t have any missed calls. The sky-is-falling feeling had gone away while I was helping Noel, but it was back in full force as I made my way back downstairs.

“Uncle Cian,” Diana bellowed, climbing over the back of the couch to get to me.

“Princess,” I scolded as I jogged over to catch her. “You know you’re not supposed to be climbin’ on the couch.”

“I missed you,” Diana said, ignoring my scolding. She rubbed her chin against my beard.

“I just saw you yesterday,” I replied, carrying her into the kitchen.

“We’re having a party,” Diana told me excitedly. “Mama put up balloons.”

“I know.”

“Uncle Cian helped blow them up,” Noel informed her.

“Hey, you wanna help me grab that cooler before everyone gets here?” Titus asked me.

“Yeah.” I set Diana on her feet and kissed the top of Ariel’s head as I passed her.

“Hi,” she said, smiling up at me.

“Hey, Mermaid,” I greeted as I followed Titus.

I scanned the tree line as we walked over to the garage.

“You good?” Titus asked curiously.

“Got a feelin’,” I replied, looking around as he threw open the door.

“Yeah?” He followed my gaze. There was nothing there.

It didn’t feel stupid when I was talking to Titus.

“Somethin’ isn’t right.”

“No idea what it is?”

“Could be anythin’,” I replied as I reached for one side of the cooler. “Just be prepared, yeah?”

“Fuck,” Titus muttered with a nod.

My siblings pulled up just as we were setting the cooler on the porch.

“Cian, come help me,” Aoife ordered, climbing out of the car.

I jogged down the steps and met her at the trunk. “Jesus, Mam, what did you bring?”

There were six big covered dishes carefully packed with towels around them to keep them from shifting.

“I made a taco bar,” she replied. “There’s more in the back seat with Sean.”

“Go get my nephew,” I said, bumping her gently out of the way. “I’ll carry these.”

“Don’t stack them,” she warned as she walked to Sean’s door. “They’ll spill everywhere.”

“Great,” I muttered as Ronan and Aisling joined me.

It took a few trips to get everything inside, and we’d barely finished as Aunt Ashley arrived, Frankie’s SUV pulling in behind her.

“You can park anywhere,” I called as Aunt Ashley parked beside Aoife, and Frankie pulled over by the garage.

“I wasn’t sure how many people were coming,” she said as Saoirse climbed out of the passenger seat. “Head on in, honey. We’ll be right there.”

“Hey, brother,” Saoirse greeted as she passed me.

“Happy Birthday.”

“Thanks!”

As soon as Saoirse was inside the house, Aunt Ashley scowled. “I forgot the damn cake.”

“How the hell did you do that?” I asked as Frankie and Lou reached us.

“I put it on the table in the motorhome so Saoirse wouldn’t see it before the party, and then when she asked to ride with me, I forgot to put it in Aoife’s car.”

“What’s wrong?” Frankie asked.

“No, nothing,” Lou said into the phone held to her ear.

“I forgot the cake,” Aunt Ashley answered. “Left it in the frigging motorhome.

“Ashley forgot the cake in the motorhome,” Lou said in exasperation. She looked at me. “It’s Myla.”

“She on her way yet?”

Lou shook her head.

“I can run back and get it,” Aunt Ashley said. “I’ll be back before it’s time.”

“Let’s eat dinner first,” I ordered. “I’ll run and get it when we’re done.”

“I can’t believe I forgot it,” Aunt Ashley said as I led her toward the house. “I had one job.”

“It’s no big deal,” Frankie said easily. “These dinners usually last a while anyway. There’s plenty of time to go get it.”

Inside the house was chaos, and it only got louder when Tommy and Heather showed up. People were spread out all over the kitchen and living room eating their food, and we could barely keep Diana and Sean at the table long enough to eat anything.

It wasn’t until Bas came in the front door and I looked over expecting Myla, that I realized it had been a while and she still hadn’t shown up.

I threaded my way through the crowd and found Lou in the living room. “Hey, you know when Myla was headin’ over?”

Lou shook her head. “I don’t know. She called me when she got off work, but she mostly just bitched about how you were sending a babysitter with us tonight.”

“Great.”

“I didn’t even think to ask when she was coming,” Lou continued. “I figured she’d be here for dinner. She knew what time, right?”

“She knew.”

“She was pretty pissed,” Lou said with a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure she’ll show up, though.”

“Thanks.”

Typical Myla. She was pissed so she was making a point. I pulled out my phone and called her. She’d agreed that she wouldn’t do that shit anymore—but here she was, missing my sister’s birthday dinner because she was pissed at me. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got, especially when she didn’t answer her damn phone.

“Call me back,” I left on her voicemail. “This is fucked up. You told Saoirse you’d be here.”

I stuffed my phone in my pocket as Aisling called my name from the kitchen. Gritting my teeth, I plastered on a smile as I walked toward her so no one would know how pissed I was.

Bailing on me was one thing, but hell if Myla was going to do this shit to my family.

When I reached Aisling, she elbowed me in the side. “What was that present that Aoife got Saoirse when she was like eight—”

“I was nine,” Saoirse corrected.

“Whatever,” Aisling said. “That present that Sersh was pissed about for a month. Wasn’t it like a soccer ball or something?”

“It was a set of walkie-talkies,” I replied, my smile growing more genuine. “Me and Ronan used them.”

“Walkie-talkies!” Aisling cackled. “That was it!”

“I just wanted a book,” Saoirse said in exasperation.

“I think I found those in the lost and found at school,” Aoife commented smugly.

“Both of them?” I asked. “Nice pull.”

“I had skills,” she replied.

“Cian!” Tommy bellowed from the living room. “Titus! Bas!”

My heart stopped as I turned. Tommy was pale as shit.

Our eyes met, and I knew.

“I’ll call you,” he told Heather as he jogged toward the front door. “Stay here!”

I was already running.