9. Declan

DECLAN

The waythat Bree acted two nights ago confuses me. It's not just the sex. From the first time I touched her it was clear she was as into it as I was. So, that's not the problem. The problem is everything else.

The way she wanted to know more about me, how she cuddled up next to me.

What is she trying to pull?

I can't deny that she's better this way than depressed like she was at dinner the other night, but it's so different than her fiery anger that I'm a little concerned. Especially because this side of her pulls me in even deeper than angry Bree.

Fuck me. I don't have time to muse about it. It's time to meet with Niall Murphy and finally take the next step in my master plan. I can't wait.

My hope is he tries to start a war immediately so that I can take him down with a bullet between his eyes.

Gray is coming with me, of course, and there's a light in his blue eyes I haven't seen in a while. He loves shit like this, and usually, I don't. But Niall Murphy is different. It's personal between us, and I can't wait to see the look on his ugly face.

"You ready?" Gray grins.

I grin back. "I was born ready."

We're taking Sean and Finn O'Toole, two of our guys. They're fraternal twins, one is blond, and one is dark-haired. They are massive and it's even more clear when they pile into a second car as Gray and I take one of his convertibles.

It's about a twenty-minute drive out to Niall Murphy's place, and I frown when we pull up at the gates. "How do we get in?"

"Oh, I called ahead." Gray's still grinning. "He called me every name in the book, but I told him we had information about his daughter."

Good. He'll already be angry. Maybe it'll spur him to do something stupid like try to shoot one of us.

I pull up to the intercom and it buzzes immediately.

"Aw, he didn't want to talk to us," Gray says with a decidedly evil cackle, and I smile back as we drive up to the main house. It's a bit smaller than ours, but no less opulent.

The doors are covered in wolves, the Murphy family crest, and it's a bit tacky, if you ask me, even though they seem to be carved from marble.

Sean and Finn pull up behind us and get out, adjusting their suits. We look like a bunch of mobsters today, all wearing suits as if we're going to a wedding.

Or a funeral.

The door opens before I can ring the doorbell, and a truly giant man stands there, glaring down at us.

"It's the Wolfhound," Gray whispers, seeming awed.

The man has close-cropped red hair, a full but well-kept ginger beard, and he towers over me by at least three inches, which is crazy since I'm six-foot-two. He's as wide as he is tall, almost, his shoulders barely fitting in the huge doorway.

"I had an appointment with Niall." Gray seems calm, but there's a hint of nerves in how he's holding himself.

The Wolfhound, otherwise known as Cormac Ryan, Niall Murphy's childhood friend and his right-hand, doesn't speak, and it's no wonder, because from all the rumors, he's mute.

He turns to lead us into the foyer, and grunts, gesturing for us to sit.

We do, and Gray bounces his leg. I put my hand on his knee to stop him, giving him a hard look. Sean and Finn continue to stand.

I look around. The wolf theme is a big deal to Niall, it seems, because they're everywhere—there"s a blanket covered in a wolf pack draped over the back of the couch, and there are marble carved wolves howling in the corner. I'm surprised there isn't a taxidermized one sitting in the middle of the room.

I look up to a crystal chandelier not unlike ours above my head. Someone starts stomping down the stairs, and Gray and I both stand in unison, expecting Niall.

Sure enough, it's him. His dark hair is mottled with silver around the temples and his hairline. He's around Gray's height, about six-foot, and he's got a generous beer belly hanging over his suit slacks. His eyes are a deep green, almost like the green in Bree's eyes.

Where are all the photos of her? It seems like Niall lived in this big house by himself all his life.

I know that isn't true, and yet there's no suggestion that Bree even exists at all.

She's supposed to be the apple of his eye, isn't she?

"Where the hell is my daughter?" Niall barks out as he steps too close to me. I don't back away, looking at him.

"She's safe in our bedroom."

Niall's eyes nearly bug out of his head.

"You better start explaining," he orders in a near roar.

"Didn't you hear? We got hitched." I smile from ear to ear. "She's very comfortable in her new mansion. Wouldn't think she'd want to come back here."

"Bree would never marry you," he spits. "What did you do to her?"

"Nothing she didn't want done." My grin is wicked, and Niall grabs me by the collar, slamming me up against the far wall.

I laugh, and Niall punches me right in the nose. It stings pretty bad, but I'm still laughing because this is exactly what I wanted. He's taking the bait.

Sean and Finn pull him off me, and he's so red in the face I'm almost afraid he's on the verge of a heart attack. Man, he's so mad.

"Not now, I don't want to have to kill my father-in-law." I taste blood on my teeth from my nose. "Or do I?"

"You can't kill me," he growls. "My men will shoot you five times before you hit the ground if you try."

"Maybe you're right." I shrug. "But maybe I'll take that chance."

I reach into my suit pocket, and the sound of hammers pulling back clicks from upstairs. His men have their guns trained on me.

But instead of a gun, I slowly bring out a copy of the marriage license, handing it to Niall.

"You'll see that everything's in order. It was a good Catholic wedding, don't worry."

"What have you done to her?" He fights Sean and Finn's hold to no avail.

He's a snake of a man instead of the wolf he wants so badly to be, and I know that he'll find a way to try and hurt me if I stay here long enough.

"What do you want out of this? What possible reason do you have for forcing my daughter to marry you?"

I grin. "Maybe I just wanted to piss you off."

Niall wrenches away from Sean and Finn and adjusts his suit, taking in a deep breath. His cheeks are flushed red, but he seems calmer.

"That's not the reason, and you know it."

"It's part of the reason," Gray drawls, and I nudge him playfully with my shoulder.

"Maybe so. But the real reason is this—you"ve been going around town doing whatever the fuck you want for too many years, Murphy. It stops now."

"What stops?" He smirks, the snake, as if he doesn't know.

"Stealing our shipments, for one. For another, and the most important–Trafficking. Especially minors. You stop taking girls off the street."

"Or what?" he sneers.

"Or maybe your pretty little daughter doesn't have such a good time."

"You wouldn't." He looks right at me, his brows knitted together.

"I don't have to hurt a hair on her little head. But I can. And I will. If you don't stop."

Niall doesn't say a word, his cheeks growing redder and redder.

"We'll be in touch, Murphy." I walk toward the front door, the rest of the guys following me.

Gray whoops, slamming his fists down on the dashboard when we get into the car. "That was so much fun! But he did get you pretty good."

As he pulls away, I sniffle, tasting blood in the back of my throat. "Worth it."

"Let's go home and get you cleaned up and then go out for drinks."

I blink at him.

Gray isn't one for partying. In fact, he is the farthest away from a party person as can be. Usually all business. But I guess we do deserve a night out after all this.

"All right." I nod. "Where are we going?"

Gray grins. "Where else? Paddy's Pub."

I snort.

Paddy's is a local place, run by Irish guys just like us, first generation immigrants. The only people who ever go there are gangsters and thugs, but I suppose that is what we are too. Those are our people, and Gray likes to be around our people.

"But you still need to change shirts. I've got an extra shirt in the trunk if you prefer," he says.

"Yeah, thanks. I'm sure Paddy won't mind if I come in with a little blood on my face."

Gray laughs, clapping me on the shoulder. "Hell, he'll probably buy you a drink."

I park in the back at Paddy's, going in through the emergency exit which is supposed to have an alarm but doesn't.

I head straight to the bathroom and strip off my shirt, looking in the mirror at the damage.

My nose doesn't appear to be broken when I move it around with a wince. It's just sore.

I splash water on my face and use some paper towels to clean the blood off, sliding on Gray's shirt and just depositing mine in the trash. This isn't the first time I've done something like this at Paddy's, but it's been a long time.

And it's been years since I've done it with Gray.

I'm so tired of shit like this. I'm tired of violence, of blood, of getting punched in the face or splitting my knuckles doing it to someone else.

Sure, my beef with Murphy is as personal as it gets, but at the same time, I'm just ready for this stalemate to be over. If it has to end in war and blood, so be it. At least it'll be over.

My mood has dropped but Gray seemed excited to go out, and I'm not about to pass that up. Gray is the least outgoing of all my siblings, even Lara, and when he wants to tie one on, I'll always be there.

Besides, if I get him drunk enough, I can take videos of something stupid he does and use it to blackmail him. A smile spreads across my face at the thought, and I exit the bathroom and head into the main bar, the music booming.

Paddy decorates in an unusual way, taxidermy animals all over the walls. A squirrel, a panther, and a moose are the most unusual ones. Especially since there are no moose anywhere in this area. And Paddy isn't even a hunter, so I'm not sure what went through his mind when he put these things up.

There's also stolen road signs, including a yield sign, hanging above the bar. Then, behind the register, there's a "bad check" photocopy with various faces and names on it. Some of those faces and names are currently in this bar right now since Paddy is too forgiving.

Gray stands at the bar, holding a beer and grinning.

"What are you boys celebrating?" Paddy's hair has gone completely silver as has his beard.

"Can't exactly say," Gray says. "Just know it's big."

Paddy nods slowly. "First beer on me, then."

Gray hands me a beer.

I sip it but he puts his hand on mine, forcing me to chug it. I indulge.

Gray's in a good mood, and maybe he'll dance the Riverdance on the pool tables again so I can film it this time.

"Bottoms up." I hold back a belch, and Gray cheers, chugging his own beer.

A couple of hours later, the room is spinning, and Gray has already given me the show I yearned for and more. Those poor pool tables have some crazy tales to tell. The whole thing is securely in my video files, just waiting for the right moment. It's been a good night.

I look at my watch. Shit. It's late!

I wonder what it'll be like with Bree tomorrow since I'm probably staying out all night. Will she be worried? Jealous?

I can't deny that I can't wait to find out.

Part of me is hoping that she is jealous, that we have a big argument about it. It feels like I'm running out of reasons to hate her. And that's dangerous.

I never thought I would have a relationship, someone to come home to. I always thought I'd be married to the life, no room for anyone. Now, it's like it's all I can think about.

Gray nudges my shoulder.

"What are you thinking about?"

My new wife, as always lately, it seems.

But what I say is, "How good it felt to put Niall Murphy in his place."

I smirk, and Gray brays out a laugh, handing me another beer. I mutter a curse under my breath and take a sip, despite my better judgment.

The bartender is drunk from the shots we've been pushing on him, and he sits on the bar, playing the guitar and an old Irish ditty.

Gray finishes it in a sing-yell and claps me on the back so hard I almost fall over.

"Isn't it time to call it a night?" I'm slightly nauseous.

Gray's eyes widen at me. "Are you even Irish?"

I continue to drink my beer, sitting down and listening to the off-key music from the bartender.

My chest is heavy with this longing, something strange. I think I miss Bree.

I miss my wife.

What does that mean for someone like me?