Each wave of activity came within a second of the other, and I grabbed my cell, aware Aoife was watching me.
Spying Eoghan’s caller ID, I picked it up and demanded, “Tell me you’re the fuckers barging into my penthouse?”
“Yeah. We’ve a man down.”
My nostrils flared. “Since when was this the fucking ER?”
“Don’t be a dick. He was shot. It was clean. Went straight through. I just need to sew him up, and I need somewhere clean to do it.”
I gritted my teeth, hating that, just as my thoughts had been settled, just as peace had stirred within me, chaos was crossing my threshold.
Though it would always have irked me to be disturbed, what pissed me off was the fact Aoife was going to see this.
She wouldn’t stay in the kitchen if I asked her to. And maybe that should have pissed me off even more, but it didn’t.
She wasn’t a dog. She couldn’t be leashed in her own goddamn home.
“Fine,” I bit off, and climbing off the counter seat, I padded out of the kitchen down to the doorway. I was fully aware that Aoife was watching me, that she crossed the kitchen to follow me to the hall.
She didn’t move closer, though, just stayed there. Witnessing the sorry shit that came with being a Five Points’ man. Even one as high up in the ranks as I was.
That was the Family for you.
No matter how high you soared, they’d always bring you down a peg or two, and keep your feet fixed firmly on the ground.
When I saw the injured man, I grimaced. “You should have said it was Donny.”
Eoghan snorted. “Would that have had you greeting us with hot tea and cake?”
I flipped him the bird. “Don’t be a cunt.”
“But I play the part so well,” he mocked.
Donny sent me a ragged smile—his teeth were coated in blood. “Sorry about this, Finn. I might stain your carpet.”
While Eoghan chuckled, I shook my head. “It’s been a while since you were last here, Donny. I had the carpet taken out. You fuckers kept leaking on it.”
I liked Donny. He was good people. Truth was, I’d been intent on having him as Aoife’s guard, but I knew he’d been assigned to the whole shit-storm that was brewing with the Colombians.
We had an unusual hierarchy.
Everyone answered to Aidan.
Then, each of his sons, and myself, spearheaded a certain aspect of the business.
We had men under us, men who answered to us, the joeys, the runners, and our captains, for example.
We weren’t as organized as the Russians with their military style hierarchy, but it made sense to us. It worked.
Donny was assigned to a captain on Aidan Jr.’s side of the business.
We were due to play poker soon, and I’d been hoping to win Donny by whooping Aidan’s ass. Just not soon enough to save him from being shot.
I backed up, letting Eoghan guide Donny in.
“What the fuck are you two doing together anyway?” I inquired as I led them both to one of the guest bedrooms. I knew Aoife was watching, but she kept quiet, so I wasn’t concerned.
This bedroom was one I’d made sure was ready for events such as this. The furniture was simple, easy to sterilize, and I had all the necessary shit required for on-the-go injuries. The upper ranks all had rooms in their home like this one—thankfully, they weren’t used that often.
“I was checking out something in Eoghan’s turf.”
“And I was bothered enough that when Donny asked for clearance, I tagged along. Good thing, too,” Eoghan grunted. “It’s a clean shot, but you’d still have bled out. Fucker hit his head when he went down.”
“You could be concussed!”
I winced when I heard those four words and turned around to see Aoife was standing in the doorway, her hands on her hips.
“Aoife,” I warned, but she scowled at me.
“He could be concussed, Finn,” she repeated. “You need to get your head checked at the hospital.”
Eoghan, being Eoghan, grinned at her. “You’re a fiery wee thing tonight, Aoife.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Be careful you don’t get burned, then,” she retorted, making me and Eoghan snort.
I’d admit, I’d never seen this side of her before, and I was definitely intrigued. This was the third time she’d met Eoghan, but it was the first time she’d been this feisty in front of any of my brothers.
She stormed into the room and moved toward the trestle table where Eoghan had propped Donny up. It was like the kind you found at the doctor’s office.
Uneasily, she stared at the blood gushing through Donny’s shirt, and mumbled, “Where are the stitches?”
I gaped at her. “You’re not going to—”
“I’m a trained chef, Finn. I’ve sewn more flesh together than either of you have.”
That had me wrinkling my nose at her. “You have?” And she was a trained chef?
How the fuck had I not known that?
Well, I guess I’d been gorging on her food all this time, but still . . . shit. She was trained? I’d known she’d gone to college, though.
“Yes. I went to culinary school. I could probably cut up a body better than either of you, too.” She blew out a breath that had her bright-red bangs flopping on her forehead. “Why did that come out sounding proud?” she mumbled, more to herself than us.
“Well, that just gave me a hard-on,” Eoghan admitted, and I elbowed him in the side.
“Sick fuck,” I told him, then elbowed him harder when he grinned at me.
Aoife glowered at us both. “Well?”
I moved toward her when Eoghan grabbed a fresh towel and shoved it against Donny’s wound to stop the blood flow. Still surprised I’d mistaken college for culinary school, I told her, “Darlin’, Eoghan was a field med for the Rangers. He can handle this.”
She blinked up at me. “Really?”
“Truly,” I told her, bending down to kiss her on the nose. I was, I’d admit, touched that she’d care for one of our men this way. And from the respect in Eoghan’s eyes, he was, too.
“O-Okay,” she told me quietly. Then, to Eoghan, she asked, “Do you need any help?”
“I’ve got this, Aoife. You go on now. You don’t need to be seeing the likes of this,” he told her softly.
She licked her lips and looked at Donny. Patting his knee, she asked, “Would you like some cake?”
I snickered. “Cake’s the last thing he’d like, Aoife, baby. Could you grab some whisky?”
Donny grunted. “Please? A big bottle.”
Though she was a little wide-eyed, she scurried off to do as I’d asked. When I turned to follow her, then tilted back to look at Eoghan and Donny, I saw they were looking at me like I’d grown two heads.
“Never thought you’d marry, Finn,” Donny mumbled, tipping his head back against the wall as Eoghan motioned at me to press the towel against the wound.
Fuck, I hated getting blood on my hands—it was a bastard to get out from under your nails—but I moved forward and did as asked, letting Eoghan bustle around to collect the various shit he’d need to cleanse and stitch up the wound.
“Me, either,” I admitted.
“Can see why, though,” he stated.
“She’s good people,” Eoghan added. “Anyone can see that.”
I dipped my chin in agreement, and felt, literally fucking felt, when Aoife was back. Her feet slipped soundlessly against the floor, but I knew she was there without even having to turn my head.
“Are you sure you should be drinking this?” she asked when she handed the open bottle to Donny.
“Trust me,” he rasped. “I’m positive.” He grabbed the bottle and drank a good five fingers. Though he coughed as it went down, he admitted, “That feels fucki—” He cleared his throat. “That feels better,” he corrected without my even having to glower at him for almost cursing in front of her. “Thank you.”
She gnawed on her bottom lip.
“You really should see a doctor after you’ve been sewn up.”
That she cared enough to pressure Donny had me grinning at her. “His head’s too hard for a concussion. Not even a kick to the head by a jackass could knock some sense into Donny.”
He laughed at my joke, and though Aoife still looked worried, she ceased pleating her hands together and took a step back.
“If you need me, just call.”
“Will do, honey,” I told her softly, seeing her gaze was glued to my bloodied hands, I watched her bite her lip again before scurrying out of the room.
None of us said anything while Eoghan cut off Donny’s shirt and cleaned up the wound. He was a good field med, the perfect man to be with if you got hit out on the streets, and he kept up-to-date with his certification as well. Not that this was legal, but fuck—what did legal matter inside these walls?
I had a bedroom dedicated to basic medical care.
Did it seem like I gave a fuck about the letter of the law?
Donny had consumed half the bottle by the time Eoghan started sewing him up. He’d numbed the area with some purloined local anesthetic, but having been shot myself, I knew that it didn’t do shit.
It wasn’t like we could walk into the ER without questions being asked, so this was just a part of the job.
My calf ached where I’d been shot over nine years ago. It hadn’t been as clean cut as this wound, though. Eoghan had to dig around in the goddamn hole like he was looking for gold. I swear, I’d cried like a baby while he’d gone hunting. Donny was too hammered to cry, though.
His eyes were closed, and it seemed like he was dozing—either that, or he’d passed out.
“Who was it?” I asked, sensing he was too out of it to listen in.
Eoghan shot me a look. “He said he’d had word of where the next hit was going to be. Because Aidan’s a dumbass, he didn’t listen, so Donny went looking on his own. But he had the wherewithal to ask me first, and because I have a brain, I went with him. Even if it was a false lead, any information is for our benefit. There were four of them. Tagging some shops over on Sixth and Regis.”
“Spraying their markers?”
“Yeah. They were just kids. It wasn’t anything major, we figured. But we didn’t know they were armed.” He wrinkled his nose. “We asked them to move on.”
“Polite as ever,” I mocked, knowing Eoghan would have gone in there, guns cocked.
“Of course,” he replied, eyes glittering. “One of the little cunts fired before we knew what he was doing.”
“You get him back?”
If his eyes had glittered before, that was nothing to now. “What do you think?”
“Where is he?”
“I brought Paulie with me; had him take the fucker to Dad’s.”
I grimaced at that. “Not a good day for that little bastard.”
Eoghan’s teeth gleamed white. “Nope.”
Within twenty minutes, Donny was as cleaned up as could be expected. I’d moved away and grabbed him a shirt to cover up, and after we managed to get that over his head, Eoghan had to help him off the bed while I steadied them both, because Donny was wasted. He was even whistling one of the hymns we had to sing at church—All Things Bright and Beautiful.
As if anything was like that in our world.
Well, I thought, there was something bright and beautiful in mine now. But it only hit me when I saw Aoife fretting in the hall as I helped them to the elevator.
“You need me to get him in the car with you?”
Eoghan shook his head. “Nah. Thanks, though. Sorry to wreck your evening, Aoife,” he called out, arching his throat, so he could see over my shoulder.
“No worries,” she replied, but her voice was shaky.
Eoghan heard it and shot me a wince. “Sorry, brother.”
“Had to happen at some point,” I mumbled under my breath, though I wished he’d gone across the way to Conor’s place before he’d come to me.
He sighed but nodded. “True that.”
As the doors closed, separating us, I sucked down a breath and turned on my heel to face the music.
I didn’t expect Aoife to hurl herself at me, tears in her eyes as she clutched me in her arms.
“Hey, hey, what is it?” I asked, hugging her back and trying to figure out what the fuck was wrong. For her to hug me when I was covered in blood? Jesus.
“That could have been you!”
Her words were muffled against my stained shirt, and I closed my eyes, pressing my lips to her temple to kiss her there.
“Would you care?”
She stiffened in my arms, then pulled back to stare at me with confusion. But I didn’t back down. I needed to know.
I’d dragged her into this life kicking and screaming, and though I thought that had changed, though I knew she hadn’t agreed to become my wife because I’d coerced her, I still needed to know she gave a damn. If she didn’t. . .I couldn’t say I’d let her go, but, I’d rethink the situation.
This wasn’t a regular courtship.
We hadn’t started with candlelight and a supper at a fancy restaurant. I’d bribed her, then fucked my way into her life.
I fully deserved for her to hate me, but the idea of this woman loathing me brought me to my knees.
“Would I care if you were hurt?” Her scowl scorched me. “Finn, of course, I’d care. What would make you think otherwise?”
My tongue felt thick in my mouth as I shook my head. I slipped my hand back up to cup her chin and gently tilted it forward so that she wasn’t looking at me like I was some kind of freak. I couldn’t speak, didn’t have words.
I wanted to believe her. Wanted to think she’d care if I was hurt, but only time would tell.
How long we stood there like that, I wasn’t sure, but she made no move to step away. I was the one who whispered, “Come on, let’s get ready for bed.”
She nodded, and together we walked to the bedroom.
It was the first night I didn’t send us both into a frenzy as I fucked us both to another kind of ecstasy. Instead, she lay curled in my arms as we drifted off to sleep, and again, Conor could call me whipped as many times as he wanted, but it felt good. Not as good as an eye-crossing orgasm, but good in a different way.
Like I’d finally found my way home.
Even as the thought crossed my mind, for the first time in my life I prayed without Aidan Sr. forcing me to. As I silently whispered the words to a God I wasn’t sure I believed in, I prayed she felt the same way.
❖
Aoife
Two weeks later
“In two hours’ time, you’re going to Mrs. Finn O’Grady.”
A laugh escaped me as Finn slid his tongue down my throat. My nerve endings sizzled in response, and I arched my neck, rocking my hips up in delight as he slowly thrust into me until he was all the way home.
“You’re going to be Mr. Aoife Keegan more like.”
His snicker was a delight for my ears, but I loved, even more, the feel of his mouth curving into a smile against my skin.
“Touché,” he said, and then he peered at me. “You’re going to change your name, aren’t you?”
“How antiquated of you to ask,” I teased, lifting up to press my mouth to his. “I’ll carry your name with pride,” I told him, loving how his shoulders straightened at my words, his own pride so evident that it was like it glowed from his pores.
Almost as though he was rewarding me for the statement, he began to move faster. Not too fast. This wasn’t fucking. He was making love to me. It wasn’t the first time he’d moved slow and gentle, but it felt like it mattered more considering what was going to happen soon.
Aidan and Lena had tried to insist that I spend the night before the service with them, but Finn had told them to butt out of our business and even when Aidan’s eyes had flashed with fury, I’d tried to settle the storm by saying I only felt safe with Finn.
Aidan had flushed guiltily at my words, and that was that
.
There were ways and means of getting around these men, and I was slowly learning them—with Lena’s aid.
She told me that if I wanted anything in this life, to think smart. Not to whine or complain, but to do. And, whenever possible, remind them that the restrictions on my life were their fault.
For some crazy reason, the Donnelly men weren’t as antiquated as I’d just accused Finn of being. They were as modern as any guy was nowadays. They knew women had hopes and dreams and aspirations, and they didn’t shoot that down—it was why Lena had a dress shop over by Regis Park. The men understood that their women’s lives couldn’t revolve around them.
Even if they wished that were the case.
Plus, I’d started to see that Aidan thought of Lena’s work as a means of keeping her out of mischief, and Finn seemed to share that train of thought.
I wasn’t about to complain.
Releasing a moan when Finn hit that special spot inside me, I gripped his ass and dug my fingers into him, my nails clutching at his firm butt so hard, I knew I’d leave bruises there. I loved that, though. I wanted my marks on him.
When my release powered through me, I screamed. It was so intense, so goddamn wonderful, that I’d thought I was about to lose my mind. Finn’s hoarse yell was enough to make my nerve endings spark and sizzle, as though they were embers that were ready to combust again.
As we both climbed down from the highest of peaks, Finn’s panting breath in my ear, he managed to mumble, “Don’t take the pill today.”
I stiffened. “Huh?”
Sheepishly, he propped himself up on his elbow to stare down at me. “I don’t want you on the pill.”
That had me frowning, but I only replied when I wasn’t panting from my orgasm. “Finn, no way are we ready for a baby.”
“I know.”
His logic made no sense to me, but I knew it would to him. Damn man.
“Then why would you risk it?”
“Because it could take years for you to get pregnant.”
I knew that was true. The pill messed with your cycle, but fuck, it was still really easy to fall pregnant while taking it.
Screw You: A Screwed Duet (Five Points, Hell's Kitchen Book 1) Page 20