by Jane Henry
I drag the tips of my fingers along her scalp and tug so that I’ve got her in my grip. Her mouth parts. I lean in and kiss her, and hell she tastes good. She kisses me back.
“You like that, do you?” I whisper in her ear.
“Mmm.”
“Remember how you address me, lass, will you?”
“Aye,” she breaths. “Yes, sir.”
I reward her with another hair pull. I watch her body’s response, the way her breasts swell and the tips of her nipples harden with just the hair pull. I lie beside her and hold her hair in one hand, tightening the grip while I drag my palm down her body.
“Let’s start at the very beginning.” I need many answers from her, but it’ll go better if I start with the easier questions. “Did you know the O’Gregors run Stone City?”
Her half-lidded eyes fly open and she stares at me. She blinks before she responds. “I know my ex was involved with them,” she says. “I know I’ve seen them in the city before. But no, I don’t know the intricacies of their involvement there. Damn.”
I nod, reaching my thumb to her nipple. I pinch and squeeze. “Is that the total truth?”
She gasps. “Yes,” she pants. “They peddle drugs there. My ex-boyfriend’s in with them.”
I release her nipple, bend down, and lap at it lazily. She moans and moves closer to me.
“Is he, now?” I ask. “Does he work for them as well, then?”
She nods. “Aye.”
“Would’ve been helpful to know that before I busted his arse, no?”
I bite her nipple. She gasps and writhes but can’t go very far with her restraints.
“Aye,” she says. “Probably would have, but honest to God, you didn’t ask, and I didn’t know if you’d care or that he’d even be there.”
I look in her eyes, still holding her nipple between my teeth. It seems as if she’s telling me the truth.
“Not care?” I ask around the tender bud in my mouth. “Not care that I ventured into rival mafia territory to save your family and now I’ll have to deal with that aftermath?”
I lap lazily, and she bites her lip.
My phone rings. I leave her restrained on the bed and go to answer it. She follows my every move.
It’s mam. “Yes?”
“Nolan, will you be coming to breakfast?” she asks. “The children are asking for her, and I don’t know what to tell them.”
I glance over at Sheena. I want to test my theory. “Aye,” I tell her. “Tell them we’ll be down in ten minutes.”
I hang up the phone and look at her for a moment before I fill her in. “Imagine you’d like to see the children.”
She swallows hard, and her voice wobbles a little. “I do. Please, Nolan. Please, sir,” she says. “I’ll give you what you want if you only let me see them.”
I fold my arms on my chest and hold her gaze. “And what will you give me if I make sure they’re cared for? If they’re safe and protected, well-fed?”
Her eyes brim with unshed tears. Either she’s a very good liar, or I’ve struck a nerve.
“Anything you fucking want.”
“I’ll remember that.”
I unfasten her cuffs and send her to the bathroom to get ready. We dress, but before we leave, I pull her over to me and lift her skirt. Cupping her arse, I whisper in her ear. “Today, you give me answers. Down there, you’ll stay by my side. You’ll speak when spoken to, and keep things normal with the children. You don’t leave my side.”
“Aye,” she says, nodding.
I continue with my instructions. “You speak respectfully to my family. You earned a spanking last night I’ll deliver today, and how that goes depends directly on your behavior at breakfast. Am I clear?”
Her eyes heat but she nods. “Aye. Yes, sir. Of course, sir.”
Her compliance spurs me on. I never know if she’s telling me the truth, but right now, I’ve got a compliant little kitten on my hands. I’ll use that to my advantage.
“Let’s go.”
Chapter 10
Sheena
I came here for answers. I came here to spy, to find what the McCarthy clan has done so I could bring them down. But now… oh, God. I’d convinced myself that I hated them. But right now, they hold the safety and wellbeing of the only people in the world who matter to me in their hands.
And Nolan… the way he talks to me, touches me, commands me… I’m losing my grip on my self-control. It isn’t just because I enjoy it, the response is far more instinctual. My body’s alive with the masterful way he touches me, my mind consumed with thoughts of what he’ll do next. It’s hard to remain detached when someone orchestrates things the way he does.
I woke confused but determined. I would do my best to take care of my siblings, to do my job and stay strong. But one pull of his fingers through my hair, and I melt.
I wear the borrowed clothing and take a quick look at myself in a mirror by his bedroom dresser before we go. My cheeks are flushed, my eyes bright, my bright red hair is a mass of tangles I tamed with a quick bun at the nape of my neck. Damn, there’s no help for it.
I gave him the truth just now. I knew that Cian was involved with drugs, and I suspected the O’Gregors were behind it. I know they’re involved in Stone City, but I wouldn’t have gone so far as to say they “own it.” I have as little to do with the city as I can.
Rumor has it I slept with the O’Gregor’s chief, but it’s only partially correct. I slept with the captain, next in command to the chief, and it’s because of him I know the McCarthys are responsible for my father’s death and my family’s ruin.
“You’re lovely,” he says, with sincerity, as we get ready to go downstairs.
I’m a bit taken aback. Does he really think so?
“Oh, I’ll do,” I say, and I’m not fishing for compliments. “I’m wearing borrowed clothing, I have no makeup, and my hair’s got a mind of its own.”
He laces his fingers through mine and smiles at me, his handsome face breaking into a grin and those mesmerizing green eyes of his making my belly swoop. “You’ll do?” he says incredulously. “You drive me crazy, lass, and I haven’t forgotten our purpose here. But I mean it when I say you’re stunning, Sheena.” He laughs. “Sometimes I wish you weren’t. Would make my job easier.”
“Your job of tying me up and punishing me? Ack, seems you do that job just fine.”
“With pleasure,” he says.
I’ll give him this. He might be my enemy, but he knows how to compliment a girl. I’m a good judge of truth and lies; it’s the nature of the beast in my job. And for some reason I can’t quite fathom, when Nolan tells me I’m beautiful I know deep down he’s not just telling me to placate me.
I don’t know how to take it. I can’t quite process his compliment, so I drop the subject.
As we head downstairs, he asks me about my family, and I tell him the basics. Nothing that’ll give too much away. How my mother was a teen when she had me, how she fell in love with my father and gave birth to us three oldest. I say little about my father except to mention he’s deceased, and how his death contributed to my mother’s downward spiral.
It isn’t until we’re halfway down the landing on the way to the dining room that I realize with surprise that I haven’t been doing what I set out here to do. I’ve observed nothing, my head’s so in the clouds with his touch, his compliment, the sound of his voice as he talks to me. I’m supposed to be noting every detail.
When we reach the landing, Cormac stands waiting for us, his large, hulking frame dwarfing the picture windows in their entryway. He doesn’t trust me, and hell, I don’t blame him. I’m here as their captive. He knows my purpose is to bring them ruin.
I know he notes my hand in Nolan’s by the way his gaze locks on our entwined fingers. Cormac might even be trying to scare me, standing all badass and intimidating as he stares up at us. And hell, it’s working a little. He’s massively huge and muscular, like the Irish version of the Hulk or somethin
g.
“Good morning,” I say to him as pleasantly as I can. I won’t let these men intimidate me. I won’t.
Cormac gives me a curt nod. “Morning. Nolan, get her clothes of her own today,” he says. “I don’t enjoy seeing her wear clothes that belong to my wife.”
Ouch.
“Aye,” Nolan says. “I’m on it, brother. Where are the others?”
I’m assuming “the others” refer to Tiernan, Fiona, and Sam.
“Dining room,” Cormac says. “You first.”
Nolan leads me toward the dining room, and Cormac follows behind us. For goodness sakes, it’s like they think I’m a bomb about to go off, and they’re ready to shout the warning to head for cover.
“Are they that scared of a girl like me?” I ask Nolan.
He quirks a brow at me before responding. “Scared? Hell no. But we do assemble together for a reason. They’re not afraid of you, lass. But they won’t let you forget you’re my prisoner.”
I shrug, feigning nonchalance. Right.
I’m not prepared for what I see when we enter the dining room.
There’s a massively long dining room table and several smaller circular ones. The room’s well-appointed and immaculate. Along one wall lies a table laden with food, buffet style, certainly more food than my brothers and sister have ever seen in once place.
I swallow hard. I’m starving. But that isn’t what surprises me.
Maeve sits at the table, her gray-tinged red hair tucked into a bun. She wears a simple white top, and looks the part of granny quite well. Little Sam sits on Maeve’s lap, happily drinking a bottle, his head on her chest. She holds him to her, her arms loosely about him, content as can be. Gently, almost imperceptibly, she rocks him back and forth.
Beside her sits Caitlin, her long, long black hair hanging down behind her on the chair. She’s got the appearance of one of the sprites in Irish mythology, fairy-like and ethereal. I don’t know how she does it. Her clothing’s simple, and if she wears any makeup it’s minimal. Maybe it’s her eyes. When they meet mine, there’s kindness in them.
It makes me self-conscious. I don’t deserve her kindness.
Beside Caitlin sits Aileen, Cormac’s wife. She doesn’t look up when we enter, nodding her head while Fiona talks a mile a minute. She stands out as the only blonde. Her bright, round eyes dance as she smiles and nods, bouncing a little child on her knee. She’s entertained by Fiona, it seems. Cormac approaches her and puts his hand on her shoulder. She reaches up and squeezes his hand, a gesture both intimate and private.
Tiernan sits nearby, taking it all in, nursing a steaming mug of tea.
I try to pull my hand out of Nolan’s, to get to them quicker, but he holds me fast. “Easy, lass,” he says in a side whisper so the others don’t hear. “You’ll not cause a scene. They’re fine.”
I both love and hate that they’re safe here. I don’t want them to grow comfortable.
Tiernan’s eyes meet mine, and he’s questioning, probing, his gaze traveling to my hand in Nolan’s, then back to my face. He clenches his jaw and waits for us to approach. Light streams in from the window, illuminating his features, and for that one brief moment in time, I see the boy he is now on the cusp of being the man he’ll become.
“Sheena!” Fiona spots me first. She waves to me. “Do you know them? This is Maeve, Caitlin, and Aileen, and can you believe this place?”
I blink. She seems taken with their home, but she’s ignorant. If she only knew… it grates on me that she doesn’t, though I’m loathe to dash her dreams.
Reality sits in my belly like a rock. Fiona has no clue that it’s Maeve’s husband that’s left her fatherless.
When we reach the table, Fiona stands, reaches me and hugs me. Nolan lets me go long enough for me to embrace her back. “I don’t care,” she whispers in my ear.
I lean down and look into her eyes. “Don’t care about what, Fiona?”
“What mum thinks of any of this,” she says, before she turns from me and goes back to the table.
I blink in surprise. I haven’t cared what mum thinks about anything for so long, it didn’t even occur to me.
Nolan pulls out a chair for me, and I sit with Tiernan on my right and Nolan on my left.
“You all slept well, then?” I ask.
“Aye,” Tiernan says. He looks begrudgingly at Cormac, then Nolan. “Thank you.” He doesn’t trust them, and for good reason, but he’s not above thanks when it’s due. He’ll be a good man one day.
Nolan reaches for a basket in the middle of the table and hands it to me. I take a scone for myself. Caitlin hands me the butter dish, but Aileen watches me distrustfully. I don’t blame her. Last year, I was blackmailed by the O’Gregors to trick her into coming to the club. We were both assaulted by them, though rescued by the McCarthys. I’m sitting in her dining room, wearing her clothing, a stark reminder of what I’ve done to the people she calls family.
Aileen turns away from me as if I don’t exist and smiles at Caitlin. “Seems the baby slept well for you last night?”
“Aye,” Caitlin says. “Nothing like a good night’s sleep to make you feel better about things.”
“Of course,” Aileen says. “But you let me know if you need any help, will you? You’ve done so much for me, it’d be my pleasure to help you when you need me.”
They chatter on about their babies and sleep, soothers and bottles. It’s hard for me to piece what I know about these two with the women in front of me. Until now, I’ve known them only as the wives of criminals. But here are two women who love each other like sisters.
And right then, in that moment… I hate all of this.
The lies. The betrayal. How far I’ve let myself sink for the sake of vengeance. I wish for all of this to end, and for one brief moment in time, I wish that I didn’t have to keep playing this game. That I could have good, lasting, solid relationships with people I trust. I wish I didn’t have to be the only one holding everything together.
“This place is beautiful,” Fiona says, chattering on about everything from the paintings that hang on the walls to the lovely cut of the juice glasses on the table. “Never seen fabric napkins, can you imagine, Sheena? This place is grand, no lie.”
“Fiona, stop it,” Tiernan mutters, but she doesn’t pay him any heed. For all his sulking and being guarded, she makes up for with bubbly enthusiasm.
“I’ve never seen such a nice place,” Fiona repeats. “And my goodness, Maeve, your cooks must be the most talented in all of Ireland. Sheena, have you ever tasted such scones?” She butters one and eats it greedily. Seems she’s gotten over her shyness.
“Never,” I say, and catch Nolan’s eye. He winks at me, and my tummy does a little belly-flip.
Carson and Lachlan enter, and it’s the first time Fiona stops jabbering on. She clams up when she sees Lachlan enter, her fork raised halfway to her mouth.
My God, does she have a schoolgirl crush on one of the men?
I look sharply from him to her, but he only smiles and gives them a little wave.
“Morning,” he says to Tiernan, who doesn’t return the greeting. Fiona finally waves shyly at him.
“Morning,” she says.
“Y’alright?” he asks, filling a plate full of food. Fiona only nods. Her eyes are wide and her cheeks are faintly flushed.
My goodness, my sister’s crushing on mafia. What have I done? Have I led the lambs to slaughter? I remember Tiernan’s question the night before, how he wondered if we were going straight into the fire.
The baby reaches for something on the table and knocks a glass of juice over. The girls scramble to clean it up, and I try helplessly to mop at it with napkins, but Maeve brushes me off.
“Leave it, Sheena,” she says. “We’ll have the girls in the kitchen clean it, no worries.”
Fiona watches her with wide, curious eyes but doesn’t say anything.
Nolan turns to me, leans down, and whispers, “Your sister’s entertaining u
s.”
I narrow my eyes on him. “She’s a child.”
His eyes widen back at me. “Of course she is,” he mutters, “which is the only reason why we brought her here to begin with.”
I don’t know why I’m so defensive, why I feel the need to make sure he knows she’s innocent. I know what these men can do, what they have done and will yet. I hate that I’ve brought my family anywhere near them, though the thought of leaving them alone in my mother’s house makes me nauseous.
I eat a scone, and though it’s tasty, it feels dry and crumbly in my mouth. I’ve worked hard to keep my worlds separate, so my work and my personal life don’t collide. And now… now that’s exactly what’s happening.
Lachlan and Carson sit together at one end of the table. I don’t miss the way Tiernan and Fiona watch them. Tiernan knows who they are from the night before, and Fiona is a smart girl. She’ll catch on soon herself.
“How’s that wrist of yours?” Lachlan asks Fiona. She stops her yammering and looks down at her arm, as if just remembering she had one.
“Ah, well. Pretty sore,” she says, flushing pink.
Nolan pushes out of his chair and walks to her. “Let’s see it,” he says. She stands and lifts her arm up. Frowning, he takes her arm in his hand and gently inspects.
No, my mind protests. I can’t bear to see him tender with her. It picks at my resolve.
“Very sore?” he asks.
She winces when he touches her with his index finger. “Aye.”
“I’ll call Sebastian,” he says, then looks to me. “Clan doctor.”
I swallow hard, then nod. “Thanks very much.”
I don’t trust that they’re being so kind, that they’re taking care of them.
“Baby Sam has quite a rash,” Maeve says. “We’ll ask Sebastian about that as well.”
“Hasn’t been changed often enough,” Fiona says, blushing deeper when all eyes come to her. “We did our best, but…” her voice trails off. My heart squeezes, but when she looks at me I only smile at her.
“I know you did, Fiona. No one blames you.”