by L. A. Casey
“Shit has hit the fan, and it’s got nothing to do with me and Bronagh.”
Damien gasped. “The kids?”
“Georgie,” I said, defeated. “She has a boyfriend, and Bronagh won’t let me kill him. He’s Gavin’s boy.”
“Fuck.” Damien swore. “Fuck everything. I’m on my way.”
Damien disconnected the call and made it to my house in ten minutes flat. He didn’t come inside. Instead, I grabbed my keys and wallet and exited my house. He clapped his hand on my shoulder the second I got into his car.
“Are you okay?”
I shook my head. “I will be tomorrow, but right now, I’m heartbroken.”
“I’m heartbroken, so I can only imagine how you feel.”
“Tonight, my eyes were opened to Georgie being a young woman and not a little girl anymore. The thought of some excited little boy near her makes me murderous.”
“I’m itching to break the kid’s hands and his dick, so you aren’t alone, brother.”
I grunted. “Nothing short of his death will please me.”
“He’s a Collins kid, too?”
I grunted. “Gavin’s boy ... You want to know the kicker?”
Damien nodded.
“Indie is the picture of Gav.”
“He is a good-looking bastard.”
“Don’t I fucking know it!” I balled my hands to fists. “I almost lost Bronagh to him once upon a time, and now I’m losing my baby to not only his blood, but his lookalike? Fuck. I want to kill him. I don’t even care that he’s a child.”
Damien snorted. “You’ll be hell bound for killing him.”
“I’ll explain at the gates. Don’t worry about me, I always get what I want.”
My brother grinned. “A certain Murphy sister is a prime example.”
A smile stretched across my face. “Can you believe I married my high school sweetheart?”
“No, considering I called dibs on her first. I’m still pissed you messed with bro code for a chick.”
I laughed. “What do you think Alannah would do to you if she found out that you wanted to take Bronagh for a round of mattress dancing when we first met her?”
“Don’t ever tell her.” Damien winced. “She wouldn’t have given me five sons if she knew, that’s for damn sure.”
“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” I laughed. “I’ll take it to my grave.”
Damien laughed as he pulled away from the kerb and drove towards our local pub. When we got there, we settled inside an empty booth, and I ordered a pint of cider. Damien did too. I stared at the table, then looked at my brother when he clapped his hands on my shoulder.
“We’ll get you through this, buddy.”
I nodded. “I’ll be good tomorrow. I’ll take in on the chin ... but now ...”
“You just want to be sad that your baby girl isn’t a baby anymore?”
Don’t you dare fucking cry.
I leaned my head on my forearm. “Call the others ... I need their bullshit right now.”
“I’m on it.” Damien chuckled, then he added, “You might regret this by the end of the night.”
I’d never regret a night spent with my brothers ... They were the very reason I was the man I was today. I owed them everything, and I knew that they’d help me get through this moment of helplessness, just as they helped me with everything else that stumped me over the years. There was no one on the earth who I’d trust to have my back more than them. I just hoped I didn’t get drunk enough to go and find this Collins kid because if that happened, not even my brothers could stop Bronagh Slater from kicking my ass to New York and back again.
I closed my eyes and chuckled to myself. Tonight was a rough one for me, but that was part of life when you had kids, and there was one thing I was absolutely certain of, and that was I fucking loved my life, and there wasn’t a thing I’d changed about it.
Not a damn thing.
Part II
ALEC
CHAPTER ONE
Present day...
I woke up that morning to screaming. Loud, terror-filled screaming. I bolted upright and reached for Keela out of instinct, only to find her side of the bed empty. I fumbled with the blanket that covered me and ended up getting my legs tangled, causing me to fall off the bed and land shoulder first on the hard oak floor.
Fuck.
“Alec!”
My heart nearly burst with fear as I jumped to my feet and quickly detangled myself from the bed sheets. On my sprint out of the room, I grabbed the first thing I could use as a weapon as I rushed down the stairs, and that just happened to be a Power Rangers umbrella. I ran down the hallway the second my feet touched the floor and skidded into the kitchen. My arms and the umbrella were raised and ready for battle. My eyes darted from left to right, and when I saw no intruders, my body slightly relaxed ... until I spotted my wife on the kitchen table.
“I thought you were being murdered!” I glared at her. “What the hell is wrong with you, woman?”
“Just kill it!” my wife pleaded. “Oh, God. Kill it.”
Kill what?
I looked at where Keela was pointing, and when I saw the man-eating tarantula gliding towards me, I screamed louder than my wife. I used the umbrella in my hand as if it was a sledge hammer, and I beat the life out of the spider. After a solid minute of blind swinging, I came to a halt and inspected the floor. The spider was there, and it was unmoving.
I exhaled a nervous breath.
“I fixed that problem, didn’t I?”
Keela, whose hands were on her hips, shook her head. “Ye’ did well, husband.”
“I wasn’t even scared.”
My wife rolled her eyes as I hunkered down to examine the spider.
“Aw …” I frowned. “I amputated one of his legs by accident.”
Keela, who was still on top of the table, said, “I wish ye’ had decapitated the little fucker.”
I looked up at her. “It seems pointless now that he’s dead.”
She grunted, clearly disagreeing. I looked back down at the spider.
“It’s not even that big now that I’m close—OH MY GOD!”
A very manly roar rose from my throat when the dead spider came back to life and ran towards me—no doubt with murder on his mind. He was down one leg, but that loss of the limb seemed to fuel him because he was moving rapidly around the floor, zigzagging from left to right as if trying to confuse me. He was waiting for an opening to spring on me so he could strike a death blow. I knew he was because if I were in his position, I’d do the exact same thing. I sprung onto the kitchen counter just to get away from him. I threw my umbrella at him when I had a clear shot, and it hit the little fucker square on and squashed him.
“Ha! Come back from that, asshole!”
Things were quiet for a moment, then side-splitting laughter came from my right.
“I almost died, so what the fuck do you find so funny?”
“You,” Keela cackled. “Ye’ practically leapt onto the counter.”
“He was running at me. Did you see how fast he moved?”
“I thought ye’ weren’t scared?”
“I thought it was dead!” I argued. “Of course, I wasn’t scared when I thought it was dead.”
Keela continued to laugh.
“How did you even get up there?” I quizzed as I jumped down from the counter. “Did you use a chair to step up on?”
“Nah,” she answered as I moved in front of her and lifted her to the ground. “I saw the spider and just hopped on it.”
“Oh, yeah?” I waggled my brows, tugging her body against mine suggestively. “I’ve got something else you can hop on, and it’s a whole lot bigger.”
“Please,” my eldest son, Enzo, gagged as he entered the kitchen dressed from head to toe in his soccer gear. “Don’t make me sick before I’ve even had me breakfast.”
Keela pushed my body away from hers like I was scalding hot coal, and it only encouraged me to grope
her further. I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her backside tight against me.
“There’s nothing sick about a man loving on his woman.”
“It is,” Enzo said as he searched the fridge. “When the man is me aul’ lad, and the woman is me aul’ one.”
Keela gasped in outrage. “I’m nowhere near old enough to be called aul’ one, ye’ little shite.”
Our kid closed the fridge door, armed with milk, ready-made pancake batter, and a carton of orange juice. He turned to face us but focused on his mother. His grey eyes, which he inherited from me, gleaming mischievously.
“It’s just an expression, Ma.” He winked. “Ye’ know I think you’re beautiful.”
“Beautiful?” I interjected. “Really, Zo? You think slinging a compliment her way is going to get you off the—”
Keela elbowed me in the stomach and cut me off.
“Ye’ think I’m beautiful?” She giggled. “Thanks, son. ‘Ere, let me make your breakfast. I’ll put chocolate chips in your pancakes.”
Enzo leaned his head down and kissed her on the cheek when she moved over to him. “You’re the best, Ma.”
“Punk,” I muttered as he shot a shit-eating grin my way over Keela’s head. “Why didn’t you come running when you heard your mom scream?”
“‘Cause I heard you scream not long after, and I heard the word spider mentioned in the midst of that screamin’. I wasn’t riskin’ me life against a spider for either of ye’, I’m sorry.”
“I’ve never felt such betrayal in all my life,” I said, placing my hand on my chest. “I have no idea how you came from my angelic loins.”
Enzo laughed and nudged by me so he could sit at the kitchen table. I turned to my wife.
“He just had to call you beautiful to get his breakfast made.” I placed my hands on my hips in outrage. “I show you how beautiful you are with this wonderland body of mine, and I get an elbow in the gut. That’s just typical.”
“Hush up. I’ll make ye’ pancakes too.”
“With extra chocolate chips?”
“With extra chocolate chips, big man.”
I perked up. “You’re the best.”
“And ye’ wonder where Enzo gets it from?”
I grinned. “I am nothing if not a great teacher, kitten.”
My wife snorted in response. I leaned down and kissed her neck as she turned to the stove and switched it on. I patted her behind, earning me a giggle, which made me grin. I joined Enzo at the kitchen table and death stared at him as he tapped on the screen of his phone.
“Does your girlfriend still think I’m hotter than you?”
Enzo sighed. “She was never me girlfriend, and she never said ye’ were hotter than me. She said ye’ were hotter than she expected ye’ to be.”
“That’s the story of my life, son. My beauty stuns people; it always has and always will.”
Enzo’s eyes glinted with amusement. “I’m better lookin’.”
“You Slater kids all seem to think that. Jax thinks he’s God’s gift to women, you walk around like your junk is a foot long, and your other cousins are just as bad. Your brothers, too. I don’t know where I went wrong in raising you to give you ugly shits so much confidence.”
Enzo laughed at my obvious joke and so did my wife.
“Me sons are beautiful because I’m their mother,” Keela said as she poured pancake batter into a pan. “Your genes just gave them their height.”
And just about everything else.
“I’m thankful for gettin’ his height,” Enzo said as he leaned back in his chair. “Girls think you’re automatically ten times more attractive if you’re tall. And ten times ten just makes me the hottest specimen at school. Jax wishes he was as sexy as me. Me hair alone makes me stand out.”
Enzo was the only one in the entire family to have red hair like his mother. It was curly too, and because it was so wild, he always styled it and kept on top of keeping the length trimmed so the curls only spiralled once. Even I had to admit he was a beautiful little fucker.
“God save me from overinflated egos,” Keela mumbled.
“Some of your cousins have white hair; do you stand out against them?”
“Yup,” Enzo answered me. “I’m the hottest Slater to have ever existed. Period.”
The logic of a fourteen-year-old never failed to amuse me.
“Keep that confidence, my boy,” I beamed at my son. “A woman will surely cut it in half by the time you’re twenty.”
Keela snickered. “Did I cut yours in half?”
“Woman, you did me dirty when we first met. You dissed everything about me.”
“Yet ye’ wouldn’t leave me alone.”
“Have you seen your legs? You could have waxed me bare and used me for a surfboard, and I wouldn’t have gone anywhere. Your legs give me life, and the rest of your fine ass body accompanied with your stunning face is just a major plus.”
Keela’s ears were red as she made our pancakes.
“Shut up,” she mumbled.
Enzo laughed. “I’m goin’ to me footie match in an hour. I’ll take the boys with me since their match is after mine. Uncle Ry said he’d drive us all in his van. I’ll bring them for food on the way home. Ma already gave me the money.”
That was no small feat. Enzo was our eldest son at fourteen, Murphy was twelve, Ares was eleven, Ace was nine, and Miller was six. Together, they were a handful for Keela and me to deal with, so Enzo offering to take them all out was a parenting win.
Keela beamed our son’s way. “You’re such a good boy, always takin’ care of your brothers.”
“Speaking of your brothers,” I quizzed. “Where are they? It’s entirely too quiet in this house right now for them not to be doing something wrong.”
My daddy senses were tingling.
“The four of them are across the road,” my wife answered. “I’m surprised ye’ didn’t wake up when they were gettin’ dressed. They sounded like a herd of bloody elephants. Miller and Ace argued for ten minutes about who was shadowing the twins today. They didn’t stop until Jules took Miller and Nixon took Ace and separated them. Those two will put me in an early grave with how loud they are, I honestly don’t know how ye’ sleep through their chaos.”
“Sleeping like the dead is a superpower. Many want it, but few have the power to wield it.”
Enzo snickered. “You’re full of it, Da.”
“Thank you!” Keela announced. “I’ve been tellin’ ‘im that for years, son.”
“The pair of you are haters.”
“Can ye’ please stop usin’ terms that are meant for young people?”
I rolled my eyes at my child. “That term was used before you took up residence in my left nut sack, so shut it.”
“Alec!” Keela admonished as Enzo burst into joyous laughter.
He always got a kick out of me when I ragged on him, and I loved it.
“I’m being honest,” I said to my wife. “Kids these days think they own words when they only have them because we dumbed that shit down for them.”
Keela flicked her eyes to Enzo. “He’s right. All the slang you say, we said.”
“I can’t imagine Da callin’ anyone an eejit.”
“That’s different,” I said. “If I moved here on my own, I probably would have lost my accent and adapted your mom’s, but I’m always around your uncles, so I guess we keep our accent alive ... though it’s not as prominent as it used to be, I’ll say that much.”
“Agreed.” Keela nodded. “Ye’ say the word fuck more like me than ye’ use to, and ye’ don’t say talk in that funny way anymore.”
I smiled. “I’m basically Irish.”
Enzo snorted. “Yeah, Da, you’re so Irish.”
I ignored his sarcasm and focused on his mother.
“Can we make another baby while the other babies are away?”
Enzo made a noise dangerously closed to a squeal.
“Please don’t,” h
e pleaded. “Four younger brothers are all I can handle when I have a million little cousins to deal with as well. I beg ye’ not to do this to me.”
Keela laughed at how terrified our son looked.
“Your da is teasin’ ye’, son,” she assured him. “Five is our lucky number, just like your aunties and uncles.”
Enzo practically deflated with relief. “Thank Christ.”
I snorted. “You love your brothers and cousins, especially Georgie.”
“Georgie is everyone’s favourite because she is so precious.”
“Precious,” Keela repeated with a laugh. “She’d kick ye’ in the mouth if she heard ye’ say she’s anythin’ other than tough.”
Enzo thanked his mother as she placed six pancakes on his plate.
“We know not to say things like that around ‘er. She hates bein’ the only girl, so we have to make ‘er feel like she’s in charge.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t kid yourself, son. She is in charge. She has you and every other man in this family wrapped around her little finger. She loves being the only girl. She just pretends that she hates it to keep you all on your toes.”
Enzo sighed. “I don’t know how she does it. Even when she annoys me, I still love ‘er stupid face.”
Keela chuckled. “She’s the only girl, so all of ye’ want to protect ‘er.”
“She can be scary sometimes, like, she knows how to fight really well. I think we all did a bad thing by wrestlin’ with ‘er growin’ up. The only people she can’t pin are Jax, me, Locke, Jules, and Nixon. She still gets the better of Beau, but only just. She’s a savage, Da. I’m tellin’ ye’.”
I grinned. “She’ll keep trying until she can pin all of you.”
“I know.” Enzo chuckled as he ate. “I think the next time she jumps me, I’m just gonna let ‘er win, so she can get it out of ‘er system.”
I leaned back in my chair and stared at my son long enough for him to stop eating and look at me.
“What, Da?”
“Nothing,” I answered as his mother put pancakes in front of me. “Just thinking that I love you. You and that mop of red hair.”
“I love ye’ too, Da,” he replied. “And don’t hate on me hair. It’s a bird magnet.”