by L. A. Casey
“Make me.”
Aideen laughed. “In other words, play fight me until we have sex.”
“Basically.”
Aideen shook her head, amused. “The children are home.”
“We’ll be quiet,” I assured her, scrapping my teeth over her neck.
My wife looked over her shoulder at me. “When am I ever quiet when we have sex?”
I paused, then grinned. “Never.”
“Exactly,” she replied. “The boys will come in and fight ye’. D’ye remember last month when we were havin’ sex and Locke screamed from his bedroom that he was on the phone to Childline to report emotional trauma?”
I tipped my head back and laughed. My second born severely disliked whenever I touched his mother. Out of all my sons, he was the mommy’s boy, and he wore the title with pride.
“I’ll settle for cuddling with you then.”
Aideen turned in my arms and looked up at me.
“What’s wrong?”
I smiled. “Why does something have to be wrong for me to hold you?”
“It doesn’t,” she replied, “but ye’ seem very hands on with me today. Always touchin’ me in some way whenever I walk into a room ... why?”
I hadn’t realised I had been doing that.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I went down memory lane earlier. My mind navigated through the good, the bad, and damn ugly, and I guess I subconsciously just want your comfort.”
Aideen’s arms slid around my waist as she frowned up at me.
“Anythin’ ye’ want to talk about?”
I shook my head. “It’s just memories we’ve already talked about before. I just was blindsided when I started thinking of my past, that’s all.”
Aideen slid her hands up to my shoulders, then onto my face where she cupped my cheeks.
“You’re still the bravest, strongest, and most amazin’ man I have ever met,” she said, her love and adoration for me shining within her eyes. “I wake up every single day in disbelief that you are me husband. I love ye’ more than words could accurately describe. Always know that. Okay?”
My response was a kiss, a toe-curling, mind-numbing kiss that drew a soft moan from my wife. I hugged her tightly to my body and slid my hands over the curves I knew so well. I had had many years of loving and protecting this woman, and knowing I had many more ahead of me made me love my life that little bit more. She was my rock, the mother of my children, and then reason my heart beat. She was the reason for everything that was good in my life, and I loved her.
“Ye’ have two seconds to back away from me mother, good sir.”
Aideen suddenly giggled against my lips while I sighed and stepped away from my wife just so I could turn and stare my second eldest son.
“We’ve talked about ye’ gropin’ her in public,” Locke said. “It’s got to stop.”
“We aren’t in public. We’re in the privacy of our home.”
“A home ye’ share with five dashin’ and very impressionable young lads.”
Aideen said, “He’s got ye’ there, handsome.”
Locke grinned because she agreed with him, then crossed the room and put his arm around his mom’s shoulder. He was a couple of inches taller than her at fifteen which amused me and baffled my wife. She slid her arm around his waist and hugged him. We didn’t have favourite children, but Locke was the only son who let his mother fuss and be affectionate towards him whenever she wanted. Even our youngest son set boundaries but not Locke. He loved her attention.
“How was your match earlier?”
“We won,” Locke replied. “I scored. Twice.”
I bumped fists with him because his goals were pretty good.
The three of us looked towards the doorway when Beckett and Eli suddenly tumbled into the room, limbs tangled together and fists swinging. Beckett was eleven, and Eli was seven, and even though Beckett was clearly trying to restrain his baby brother, it was proving difficult. Eli was the baby of my sons, and because of that, he constantly wanted to prove that he was tough and was, of course, not an actual baby.
“Stop!” Aideen screeched. “Stop!”
They didn’t stop.
“Your mother said stop, so stop!”
My sons listened to me instantly. They rolled away from one another and got to their feet as Aideen rushed over to them, fussing. They tried to push her hands away, but she wouldn’t allow it this time. Locke shook his head at his brothers as though their antics were childish, and I had to agree.
“What are ye’ both fightin’ for this time?”
My sons looked at one another, then at Aideen, and in unison, they said, “He started it.”
“Did not!” Eli hissed. “You did.”
“Me?” Beckett scowled. “You came into me room and took it from me.”
“Because it’s mine, and you took it first.
“Took what?” Locke demanded, irritated. “What the hell are ye’s wafflin’ on about, ye’ dopes?”
“Language,” I warned him, then turned back to my sons. “Answer his question.”
“I was playin’ COD when Eli came into me room and took me controller right out of me hands, then he got mad when I ran after ‘im for it. He’s always takin’ me stuff, and I’m stick to death of it.”
Eli opened his mouth, ready to yell at his brother, but Aideen raised her hand, and it shut him up before he even started speaking.
“Which controller?” she asked Beckett. “Be specific.”
“The blue one ye’ bought me last week.”
Eli’s eyes widened. “Ye’ bought him a blue one?”
“Yes,” Aideen answered. “His black one broke.”
Eli’s cheek flushed red, and he suddenly looked nervous. “I didn’t know that. I thought it was my blue controller that he had.”
“Ye’ didn’t give me a chance to tell ye’. Ye’ just took it and ran.” Beckett glared. “Like ye’ always do. Ye’ never listen. Ye’ just do what ye’ want, and ye’ get away with it ‘cause you’re the baby.”
“I’m not a baby!”
Jesus Christ.
“That’s enough!” I interjected. “Eli, give Beckett back his controller and use your words before your actions the next time something like this happens. And Beckett? Stop implying he’s treated differently because he’s the youngest. You know he’s not.”
Beckett didn’t look at me, which told me he disagreed with me.
“Fine,” he said.
“Okay.” Eli sighed. “I’m sorry, Beck.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he grumbled, took his controller, and walked back down the hallway towards this room. Eli went in search of his own console controller, enlisting Locke’s help, which left me alone with my wife.
“He’s always annoyed with someone.”
I raised a brow. “Who?”
“Beckett.” She sighed. “He’s always grumpy.”
“He’s eleven, and he’s the middle child. He probably feels as if he’s always getting the short end of the stick.”
Aideen nodded. “You’re probably right.”
“Probably?”
My wife looked at me. “Just because you’re right most of the time does not mean you’re right at this very moment, so don’t push it.”
I held my hands in front of my chest and grinned. “Is Keela coming over tonight?”
“She’ll probably swing by when she’s out walkin’ that fat bastard she owns.”
I snorted. “Junior is a good—”
“Don’t ye’ dare compliment ‘im. He is tainted, look at who his father was!”
“You cried more than Keela, Alec and the kids when Storm died,” I reminded her. “You didn’t even cry that much when Tyson and Barbara died a few years before him. Admit it, you loved Storm.”
Aideen’s eyes narrow to slits. “If ye’ ever tell Keela, or Alec, I’ll smother ye’ in your sleep.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.
“I wouldn’t dre
am of it, baby doll.”
“Anyway,” she huffed. “It doesn’t matter how I feel because that bloody curse is hangin’ over me.”
Here we go.
“I’m not crazy, so don’t look at me like I am,” she warned. “Storm hated me, and now his son hates me! Will this cycle ever end?”
“Probably not. The curse will remain in place unless something breaks it.”
“Somethin’ like a blood sacrifice?” Aideen perked up. “I volunteer Junior.”
I laughed. “Alec’s family would rain down on you harder than a downpour if you harm their baby.”
“I know.” She sighed. “I’ll just have to live with the curse and hate Junior as much as he hates me.”
“I’m sorry for your suffering,” I teased.
“Don’t be.” My wife grinned. “I enjoy me arguments with ’im, and yes, before ye’ say it, I know we don’t really argue, but in me head, I know he is cursin’ at me when he barks, so I curse back at ‘im so he knows he can’t talk to me that way.”
“You’ve lost your damn mind.” I laughed and pulled her to my chest. “I still love you, though.”
“I love you too, germinator.”
I smiled and kissed the crown of her head. I used the moment to tug the shoulder of her sweater down so I could see the writing that still brought a smile to my face after so many years.
“I still can’t believe you put my name on your body.”
Aideen leaned back, and said, “You love and cherish this body, so it’s as much yours as it is mine.”
I kissed her, and we parted when my phone rang from the living room. The sound suddenly stopped, then one of my kids began shouting.
“Da,” Jagger, my second youngest, yelled, “Uncle Damien is on the phone.”
I sighed. “God doesn’t want me to have some alone time with you.”
“Come bedtime, ye’ can have all the alone time ye’ want with me, big man.”
My bloody heated, and my jeans tightened. “I can’t fucking wait.”
Aideen laughed, then left the room just as Georgie stormed by.
“Georgie.” She called after her, but my niece didn’t stop.
“Let her go,” Jax shouted from his bedroom. “She’s in a pissy mood. We made up, but then she got angry with me all over again. I’ll never understand women. Never!”
“Your uncle has a Man Bible for that.”
I stared at my wife. “What do you know about our Man Bible?”
Aideen looked away. “Nothin’.”
She knew something, but before I could pry it out of her, Jagger shouted and reminded me that my brother was still on the phone waiting for me. I smacked my wife’s ass as I left the room, making her laugh. I entered the sitting room and found Jagger, my nine-year-old, lying on the couch with my phone to his ear as he spoke to my brother. Jagger reminded me very much of my mother in appearance, but the kid’s heart was made of pure gold. His normal white hair—Damien took credit for some of his nephews having the same hair as him—was neon green this week. Ever since he discovered that he could dye his hair a crazy colour and have it wash out after a few showers, he’d tried them all. I hadn’t seen his natural white hair in months, and to be honest, I kind of missed it.
“Here Da,” Jagger said into the phone. “Talk to ye’ later, Unc. Yeah, I love ye’, too.”
I smiled as I took my phone from my son’s outstretched hand and sat next to him on the couch. He repositioned himself to rest against me, his head leaning on my shoulder as he watched an episode of Pokémon. I placed my phone to my ear, and said, “What’s popping, brother?”
“I need your help.”
I tensed. “What’s wrong? Where are you?”
“I’m okay,” he assured me. “It’s Dominic. Jax outed that Georgie has a boyfriend, and that they were planning on having sex.”
I sent a silent thank you up to God that I was sitting down because my legs suddenly went weak. My eyes darted to the elevator that Georgie had left in just minutes ago.
“Why would she do that to us?” I demanded. “She was in my home, and spoke to me, and never said a damn word.”
Damien sighed. “She thinks she’s grown ... Dominic is torn up about it. I think he might cry, if I’m being honest, and that’s not even the worst part.”
There was a worst part to my niece having a little punk fawning after her? To me, that was the worst part.
“Don’t you fucking tell me that girl is pregnant!” I warned as my heart slammed against my chest. “I will lose my fucking mind, Damien.”
“Fuck no,” he responded swiftly. “Her boyfriend is a Collins’.”
Shit. This was bad.
“Where are you guys at?”
“Crough’s pub,” Damien answered. “Dominic’s is planning to get trashed.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I said, getting to my feet. “I’ll call Alec and Ryder, too. We’ll all be there.”
“I already called Alec,” Damien said. “You just get Ryder and get here fast. Alec will just get us drunker quicker.”
I hung up the call just as Aideen entered the sitting room. I told Jagger to go and play with his brothers so we could have a moment of privacy.
“What’s wrong?”
I began to pace back and forth in front of her.
“Georgie has a boyfriend, and he’s your nephew! Can you believe that? She was just here and never said a word about it to me, the little demon.”
Aideen’s eyes instantly averted, and it made me pause, before I widened my own with realisation.
“You knew!”
“Don’t be mad.”
“Don’t be mad?” I echoed. “You knew my niece had a boyfriend, and you didn’t tell me?”
“Our niece,” Aideen corrected. “And no, I didn’t tell ye’ because she made me promise that I wouldn’t until she got the courage to tell ‘er ma and da ‘erself.”
“You knew, and Bronagh didn’t know? Good luck surviving that argument.”
Aideen cringed. “I’ll handle Bronagh ... who told on Georgie anyway?”
“Jax.”
She scowled. “I birthed a little rat.”
“Aideen.”
“What?”
“Which nephew?” I demanded. “Dame just said he was a Collins when he called me.”
She sighed. “It’s Indie.”
Gavin’s eldest.
I growled. “I’m gonna kill him.”
“No, ye’ aren’t.”
She was right. I wouldn’t kill him, but it felt good saying I would.
My wife groaned. “How bad is it? Be honest.”
“Bad.”
“Nico isn’t takin’ it all that well then?”
“Dominic is in a bar, Dame said he will be trashed before the hour is up.”
My wife winced. “Go make sure he doesn’t get hammered ‘cause if he does, he’ll get the idea in his head to hunt me nephew down, and kill ‘im.”
“I’m on it.”
I kissed her cheek, shouted for my sons to behave themselves while I was out, grabbed my keys and wallet, then jogged out of our apartment with only one thought on my mind. I had to help Dominic find a way to break Georgie and Indie up ... a way that would preferably result in my wife not ripping my balls from my body.
We had planning to do.
Part IV
RYDER
CHAPTER ONE
Present day ...
Branna’s scream. That was the first sound I heard as I returned home from my son’s soccer games. The sound ripped through me like a shard of broken glass. I had my three youngest boys with me—Alfie who was thirteen, Creed who was ten, and Israel who was seven. The three of them jumped when they heard the scream, and before I made a conscious decision to run, my legs were pounding furiously up the driveway of my house. I flung the front door open, and Branna’s screaming was then paired with yelling from my two eldest sons, my fourteen-year-old twins, Nixon and Jules.
They
had left the soccer clubhouse before me and the others because their game ended earlier, and they didn’t want to come along in the car while I dropped Alec’s kids home. I ran into the kitchen and found both of them tangled up on the floor as they fought. Branna was throwing cups of water on them like they were dogs in hopes of breaking them up as she simultaneously screamed for them to stop. I looked from my wife to my sons, and bellowed, “That’s enough!”
They stopped fighting almost instantly and shoved one another as they got to their feet. Jules had a bloody eyebrow, and Nixon’s lips was swollen into a knot and had already bruised. They were both soaking wet, but they didn’t seem to notice as they were glaring daggers at one another until their mother got their attention.
“Ye’ violent little bastard!” she shouted as she slapped them wildly. “How dare ye’ carry on like animals!”
My sons had their hands up and easily avoid their mother’s flailing hands, but it wasn’t her they were worried about; it was me. Their grey eyes locked on me as I approached them, and they tensed the moment I reached in their direction. They grunted when I fisted their T-shirts but didn’t struggle as I pulled them over to the kitchen table where I shoved them into the seats.
“You’re both grounded,” Branna continued behind me as she got the mop to clean up the water puddles on the floor. “You’re never crossin’ the front door again, and as for your phones, ye’ can kiss them goodbye!”
The twins said nothing, only continued to glare at each other so I whacked both of them across the back of the head.
“Da!” Jules hissed at the same time that Nixon said, “That hurt!”
“Good,” Branna quipped. “I hope it hurt because seein’ both of ye’ harm one another hurt me! You’re brothers. Twins. You’re supposed to protect each other, not fight one another!”
Jules looked his mom’s way and so did Nixon. I watched as both of their shoulders sagged as what they did registered with them. All my boys hated upsetting their mother, but none more than the twins. They adored her and seeing her so upset because of them made them feel like crap. I could tell by the solemn expression on their identical faces.
“I’m sorry, Ma,” Jules said at the same time Nixon said, “Sorry, Ma.”