Tiernan: A Dark Irish Mafia Romance

by Henry, Jane

  Aisling’s eyes are on me, but I can’t quite read her expression. Is she angry that I’m insisting on this? I don’t much care if she is. Safety’s of paramount importance right now.

  Fiona frowns, and her lips turn down in a pout. “Could do some online shopping, then,” she says petulantly, like a child who’s just conceded. “Unless you’ll restrict that, too, Tiernan!”

  I grin at her, and Aisling’s eyes shine.

  “Of course she can bloody well shop online. What do you think I am, an ogre?”

  “Don’t want me to answer that question,” Fiona mutters, and Aisling laughs out loud. Brats.

  “Now, Tiernan,” Maeve says. “You haven’t been lifting or getting your runs in, have you?”

  I shake my head, and Aisling looks a bit sorrowful.

  “I’m sorry, Tiernan.”

  “Don’t be. It’s only been a few days, and making sure you were alright was top priority.”

  Fiona softens a bit. “Suppose you’re not all bad, then,” she says with a wink.

  Maeve stands and stretches. “This is a great time for you to go get your workout in, since we’re here with Aisling. Seems we could use a bit of a girl chat, couldn’t we?”

  “Oh, aye,” Caitlin says, nodding.

  “Absolutely,” Fiona says.

  I’m loathe to leave the lass, even if she’s in good hands, but Christ, I’m dying for a good workout. And Keenan said if Aisling renews her friendship with Fiona, she’ll be more loyal to the Clan.

  “Now, off with you,” Maeve says, waving her hand as if to dismiss me. “We need to chat with Aisling. We’ll make sure she has what she needs for your visit to St. Albert’s, and we’re in good hands, with the guard stationed right outside your door.” She rolls her eyes. “Plus you can watch the camera feed on your phone, eh?”

  Aisling’s jaw slackens. “Camera feed?”

  I shrug. “Aye.”

  “We’ll explain everything,” Maeve says gently. “Now off with you, Tiernan.”

  I go and workout, but the entire time I’m lifting I think of her, as my muscles ache. I remember the way her eyes widen when she lets her gaze roam over my body.

  I think of her as I run, my feet pounding on the treadmill because today I won’t leave the mansion. I prefer running on the streets of Ballyhock, but today I want to be sure I’m right here if anything happens. If she needs me.

  Hell, I can hardly bring myself to even do a full workout, my mind on the women upstairs and the girl whose eyes followed me until the door shut behind me. It’s the longest we’ve been apart since she got here, even longer than the brief meeting I attended.

  I don’t like being apart from her.

  I cut my workout short, grab a towel from the rack by the entryway to the workout room, and dry my neck and face. I douse myself with water.

  Always glad to workout. Always glad to be done.

  As I go to leave, I hear whispered voices outside the room. From the library? The door’s slightly ajar, so I peek my head in. Two of the paid staff, wielding feather dusters and a mop, are huddled over something on a little table. I peer closer, trying to see, but it’s too far away.

  “She’s upstairs, she is,” one says in a hushed voice. She’s an older, portly woman with short white hair and a ruddy complexion. “I know it. Didn’t you hear her screaming when they got her?”

  “Oh, aye,” says the other, a younger woman with her light brown hair tucked into a bun. “I heard her alright, but fancied they let her go. You don’t think he did? You reckon she’s still here?”

  The older woman nods sagely. “I do. I’ve been doing women’s washing, haven’t I?”

  “Ooooh.” They stare in silence at the table, and my curiosity’s got the better of me.

  I clear my throat.

  The two women stand up straight, flustered as they see me standing in the doorway.

  “Mr. Hurston,” the older woman says. She tucks something behind her back.

  I nod. “Give it here, please.”

  They exchange worried glances, but our staff is trained to obey all men of the Clan. With trembling hands, the older woman hands me a cell phone. I frown, confused.

  “What’s this?”

  “News article, sir,” she says. “Local paper. About your… your woman, sir.”

  I tap the screen, and it springs to life. I blink, quickly scanning the article.

  My blood runs cold.

  Prostitute

  Stole from Edmund Doyle

  Prime Minister’s Son

  At large

  “Mother of God,” I mutter. They’ve found the body, and she’s a prime suspect in the case. I send myself the article, take out my phone, and call Keenan.

  “Tiernan?”

  I fill him in as quickly as I can.

  He sighs. “Just got word from Brady.”

  Fuck.

  “What does he say?”

  “Agrees taking her to St. Albert’s is best for now, but she’ll need someone to help change her appearance first. While you’re there, we’ll secure things here. With Brady’s help, we’ll get her a lawyer, ensure that no harm comes to her or to us.”

  I curse under my breath. A part of me doesn’t like that we’re leaving the mansion. We’re safe here, with our brothers as guards, but I know the school would be far more discreet.

  “I won’t send you alone, Tiernan,” Keenan says. “You’ll have company.”

  “Oh?”

  I’m aware of the two women in front of me still watching me with wide eyes. I think they might’ve taken a few steps back.

  “Aye,” Keenan says. “Lachlan will join you, as well as Tully. Cormac and I will be up at the weekend. And don’t forget Malachy’s good when it comes to battle as well, if necessary.”

  Malachy’s the primary teacher at St. Albert’s, and an honorary member of the Clan, second cousins to Keenan and his brothers.

  “Thanks very much.”

  I do a mental inventory of the weapons I have in my room, and what I can take with me to keep her safe.

  I could handle this better when I suspected they’d come after me.

  But now that I know they’re after Aisling, I’ll burn the fucking world if I have to.

  I can’t explain it, I don’t know why the need to protect this women possesses me so fiercely, but I can’t deny it either.

  I hand the phone back and thank them, my mind a million miles away as I walk up the stairs to the main area. It’s always been my goal to protect those that I love. How can I do this, when I don’t even know who’s a threat to her?

  “Y’alright, Tiernan?” Lachlan stands in the hallway, a cup of tea in one hand and a scone in the other.

  I nod.

  “Look like you’ve seen a ghost, brother.”

  I shake my head, but he isn’t buying it.

  “Outside,” he says, gesturing toward the front lawn I can see through the large window in the entryway. I shove my hands in my pocket and nod, following him out.

  A cool breeze stirs the leaves in the tree by the garden in front of us, and behind us I can hear children laughing. I look over my shoulder. Two nannies are full time caretakers of the children who live here at the mansion. It’s almost like a goddamn village. All of the McCarthy brothers have children here of varying ages, Lachlan and Fiona the only ones that haven’t had children yet.

  “She wants to wait until she’s out of grad school,” Lachlan says soberly, taking a large bite of scone as we trot down the stairs toward the garden.

  “Aye, don’t blame her.” She married so young, she has a life ahead of her yet. She was barely college-age when she wed Lachlan, but anyone who knows the two of them knows they were meant to be together.

  “I’m happy to wait as well. There’s a lifetime ahead of her yet, and when she has a child… well, you know. She’s still so young yet.”

  “Tell me about it.” I blow out a breath. It wasn’t easy for me to see my sister get married so young, and I’d
have likely protested if it were literally anyone but Lachlan. I trust him with my life, so I can trust him with my sister.

  “As is Aisling,” Lachlan says, shooting me a sidelong look.

  I nod. “Aye.” I want to hear what he has to say about this before I say anything else myself.

  We sit on the large stone bench. Lachlan’s eyes dance as he sees the little ones in the distance playing tag, the corners of his lips twitching. “Odd not to see Maeve out there in the mix, no?”

  I nod. “She’s upstairs with Aisling.”

  His brows shoot up. “Is she, then?”

  I nod. “Aye. Fiona, Maeve, and Caitlin.”

  “Came to give her a proper Clan greeting, then. I’m surprised Megan and Aileen didn’t join in.”

  I snort. “They said they didn’t want to overwhelm her.”

  He grins. “Well, now, what on earth would make them think those two would be too much?”

  I laugh out loud. Clan cousin Megan, wife to Carson, has a personality as large as the Irish Sea, and Aileen’s no pushover herself. Maeve and Caitlin are more temperate. I think they made a wise choice.

  Lachlan sobers, his dark brown eyes concerned, his heavy brows coming together.

  “How is she?”

  “Worlds better, brother. Was strung out something awful when she got here, but Sebastian helped ease the symptoms. She’s nowhere near fully recovered, but she’s well on her way.”

  He nods. “Good to hear.” He chews the rest of his scone methodically. “But you know just because she’s your charge for the time being doesn’t mean you’re locked in for life, don’t you?”

  I sigh, scrubbing a hand across my brow. “Oh, aye, of course I know that,” I say as nonchalantly as I can, because it’s one thing knowing something in your head but not your heart. “Can’t help but want to protect her, though. You ought to know that.”

  He nods soberly, takes a long pull from his mug, and sighs. “Tiernan, it’s precisely because I know that well myself that I thought it fair to remind you. It’s who you are, brother. You need someone to protect. To care for. Even if you weren’t born that way, and I’d bet a million quid you were, you spent your childhood protecting your siblings. That’s not something you shrug off lightly.”

  “‘Tisn’t.” He isn’t wrong.

  “But claiming a woman of the Clan is serious business.”

  “Don’t I know it.”

  He turns to face me. “Do you?”

  I nod. “Why’d you think I had my reservations about you claiming my sister?”

  He shrugs. “Touché.”

  We sit in silence as the nannies gather up the children and usher them back inside the mansion.

  “I knew Fiona was mine, though, Tiernan. I knew it for years before she was of age.”

  He did, and I can’t deny this. Fiona and Lachlan were damn near fated to be together. Anyone with a pair of eyes could see that.

  “But Aisling… she’s got a fucking history.”

  I nod. “I know.”

  “And she’s a firecracker. Won’t take too kindly to your highhanded ways.”

  “Ah, she’ll learn well enough.”

  He laughs out loud. “I’d give good money to be a fly on the wall in that room right now. Wonder what the girls are telling her.”

  I snort. “You and me both. But I trust them.”

  He sighs. “One thing I’ll give you, if she ends up here as part of the Clan, she’ll have a ready-made family. And if I’ve ever met a girl that needed one, it’s Aisling.” He shakes his head immediately, as if regretting what he’s said. “Shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Why not?”

  He gives a derisive laugh. “Because I’m trying to watch out for you, brother. Not activate every damn instinct you’ve got.”

  Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Thanks for that, Lach. I appreciate your concern.” I sober, fighting the need to get up from this seat and go to her, to ensure she’s alright, even though I know she’s surrounded by guards and a fucking fortress. I don’t like being this far apart. “Those instincts activated the moment I broke that motherfucker’s neck.”

  He blows out a breath. “Course they fucking did.” He finishes the rest of his tea and gets to his feet. “You’ll do the right thing. I know you will. But one thing I want you to remember, Tiernan.”

  I watch him soberly.

  “You aren’t alone in this. You don’t fight these battles alone. You’ve got an army of brothers here who’ve got your fucking back. Don’t take any of this on alone.”

  He knows me. He knows I’m the type that will do things myself. I always have, and a part of me always will. But I needed this reminder.

  I don’t know who will come for her, or what kind of danger she’s truly in.

  But I’m not fucking alone.

  “Thanks, Lach.” My voice is husky. I swallow hard and get to my feet. “I’m going to check on her. The girls had planned a little… shopping spree.”

  “Going into town?” he says, his brows drawing together. “Fiona didn’t say anything to me.”

  None of the women of the Clan, even Maeve, go anywhere without a detail on them and there’s no way Fiona would go into town without telling Lachlan first.

  I shake my head. “No, online. I wouldn’t let them go into town.”

  “Good call.”

  “I’m going back,” I tell him. I don’t like how I feel inside, being this far apart from her. Is she overwhelmed? Scared? Are her withdrawal symptoms returning?

  He gives me a sidelong look, and he smiles. “You miss her, you fucking twat, don’t you?”

  I deck his arm, and he howls with laughter. “Fuck off.”

  He goes to punch me back, but I easily dodge the blow, grab his elbow, and shove him off kilter. He pitches forward but howls with laughter as he steadies himself and comes up swinging. “Fucking bested me, you son of a bitch.”

  “I’ll kick yer arse if I have to.” I duck his blow and land a punch to his abdomen.

  He doubles over, wheezing.

  “Truce!” he holds up his arms. “Jesus, brother. So you miss her, all good. Guess I won’t ask if you’ve fucked her yet and if her pussy—oof!”

  He tries to dodge another blow, but I catch him again. God, it feels fucking good to laugh and to deck the son of a bitch.

  He’s chuckling as we head back to the mansion, and I’m panting but not winded. My mind’s focused on everything he’s said. She’s in bloody fucking danger. We both are. But we aren’t in this alone.

  I’ve never asked my brothers for anything. I’ve poured myself into devotion to the Clan, into learning and training and doing every job assigned to me well. It’s the least I could do for all they’ve done for me. I’ve obeyed the hierarchy, followed our code, and vowed to myself I’d repay them ten times over for all they’ve done.

  But now, this time, I fucking need them. I breathe a sigh of relief when I enter the mansion again. She’s here, and so is my brotherhood.

  Chapter 12

  Aisling

  “Oh my God,” Fiona says, covering her mouth when I scroll down the screen to pick out a sweater to go with the skinny jeans and top. She points a finger to a teeny, little negligee on the side that could pass for little more than a G-string.

  I snort and click “add to cart.”

  “Noooo,” Fiona says, doubling over on the couch. “I do not need to know anything that happens between you and my brother.”

  I’m just teasing, of course. I’m nowhere near ready for wearing something like that and suspect Tiernan wouldn’t have any use for it anyway.

  Maeve rolls her eyes. “For the love of all things good and holy, Fiona, we can hardly give me the grand babies I need with an immaculate conception.”

  Caitlin giggles, as I keep adding the raunchiest little numbers to the cart in rapid succession.

  “Oh, God, no,” Fiona says when I turn my head to the side, staring at the screen to try to figure out if the little shoes
tring takes the place of a bra or knickers. I’m only messing with her. I won’t actually buy those things. As it is, I’m embarrassed the cart’s got more than thirty euros worth of clothes.

  “Keep going,” Maeve says firmly. “You’re staying with us indefinitely, and believe me when I tell you, money’s not an object.” She points her finger at the screen. “Do it.”

  “Money’s not an object” rings in my mind and niggles at my conscience. If money wasn’t an object, I never would’ve gotten into the fucking trouble I did to begin with.

  I’m ashamed of who I am. I’m ashamed of who I’ve become. I’m ashamed of the trouble I’ve brought to this lovely family.

  “Now, Ais,” Fiona says in a warning tone, wagging her finger at me. “You were laughing with us just moments ago and now you’ve gone cold somber. What gives, love?”

  I don’t even know where to begin. How can I tell her how ashamed I am of my past? How can I tell her that I’m ashamed I’m their prisoner because I can’t be trusted, or that I had to take STD tests given to me by Sebastian? I tried to block that particular moment from my mind.

  Does she know who I am?

  Or… was?

  Can that terrible part of my life be buried in the past?

  Could it be that this is…a new beginning?

  I shake my head, unable to explain my feelings, when Caitlin speaks up. She’s not brash like Fiona or bold like Maeve, but confident in her own quiet way.

  “It’s a bit too much to take in, isn’t it?” she says. I nod, hating the fact that my nose is all tingly and my throat’s tight. “I can understand that, you know.”

  “Can you?” I manage in a whisper.

  “Oh, aye,” she says. “I daresay you don’t know my history? Not many do.”

  I shake my head.

  She smiles. “I was taken prisoner by Keenan when his father was still Clan Chief. The McCarthys fancied me a spy, but it was the man I called father who actually was.”

  The man she called father… I bet hers is an interesting story.

  I nod. “Go on.”

  “They kept me here as prisoner while they investigated my supposed betrayal. But at the same time, Keenan was heir to the throne, and he needed a wife…” her voice trails off and her eyes go misty as she looks far away, lost in her memories. I’m shocked she speaks of this so plainly. Neither Fiona nor Maeve make a move to stop her.