Nolan: A Dark Irish Mafia Romance (Dangerous Doms)

by Jane Henry

  Sheena clears her throat. "The time for hiding is over. We can't do this anymore, Tiernan. Can't you see? We've enemies at our back. The hounds of hell, as it were."

  He looks at her in confusion, frowning. "I don't know what you mean."

  "First off, I was wrong. I thought the McCarthys were responsible for dad's death.” I can tell that it costs her to admit this. She’s a proud woman who thought her intentions purposeful. “I know now that they weren't. All this time, I was wrong." She stares at him, with a stern expression that would rival mam’s. Something stirs and me. She'd make a good mum herself. "So it's time you tell us the truth, Tiernan. We know more than you think we know. Tell us what job you’ve been doing.”

  Tiernan's normally guarded expression falls for a moment, and for the first time, I don't see a boy on the verge of manhood, but a boy who's afraid of losing everything.

  “What do you know?" he asks.

  “No, Tiernan. You tell us." She brooks no argument, and he finally caves.

  He swallows before he speaks. "I worked for the O’Gregors for a time. They paid me well to make deliveries. I worked at night mostly... sometimes at school. I didn't ask what they had me deliver and they didn't tell me, but I could imagine."

  Sheena winces. “Oh, Tiernan. You're here under the protection of the McCarthys. For God’s sake, they’re offering us protection, and with your connections to the O’Gregors they could think you a spy."

  His eyes narrow on her. "And you're any better? Your job is on the up and up, is it?"

  She frowns and looks away before answering him. She clears her throat and speaks without looking at me or Tiernan. "I was. I came here on purpose. I wanted to find out everything I could, you see. I told you I was convinced they were guilty of a crime they didn't commit."

  "Now what?" Tiernan asks. He looks sharply at me, his body tight and rigid with his arms across his chest. “We leave? Go home? We aren't welcome there anymore either, and you know it."

  “Who said that, lad?” I ask. “Your sister’s got a job here. Part of our promise to her is to keep you safe.” I shrug. “It wasn’t smart, getting involved with the likes of the O’Gregors. But I did one worse, heading into their territory and causing trouble. But mark me, Tiernan.” I frown at him. I want him to feel the full weight of my words as well. “It was dangerous being errand boy for them. You need to know how risky that was, and promise your sister and me you won’t do such a thing again.”

  His eyes flash at me, storm clouds of anger that look just like his sister’s. The Hurstons have fire in their blood, that much is true. But I won’t be intimidated by him, and I’ll have him listen. I won’t be put off by his hostility, either.

  “You can glare at me all you want. But the fact remains, you did something dangerous and foolish, and if you’re going to be a man of integrity, you’ll own that.”

  “Says the man who, what? Runs the mafia on the east coast, is it?” Tiernan says.

  Sheena opens her mouth to protest, but I raise my hand to stop her.

  “I’ll handle this.”

  The boy needs a fucking lesson. I look ahead to make sure Fiona’s a good bit ahead of us, with Lachlan and Tully nearby. We’re by a grove of trees that shades us from her view. I release Sheena’s hand and sidestep toward the tree.

  I know why he protests, but he needs to know what he’s done, how dangerous it is, and I need to prove to Keenan he won’t pose a threat to us again.

  For once, I imagine I feel the way my older brothers might have when I was horsing around and fucking off, with not a care in the world. Class clown. I remember how they lectured, how they’d try to teach me to grow up and take responsibility. I didn’t heed them until it was too late. And I’ll be damned if I watch Tiernan do the same.

  Under the shade of trees, I beckon him. “Come here.”

  Every one of the men of The Clan learned ealaíona comhraic, Irish martial arts, at St. Albert’s, including wrestling, stick fighting, and bare-knuckled boxing. I easily remember what I’ve been taught. This lad needs a lesson.

  I stand casually with my hands on my hips, my eyes on him. He takes one step toward me, looks over his shoulder at Sheena, and when his focus is off me, I make my move. I sweep his leg so he topples over, and in one swift movement, I’ve got him on the ground, pinned beneath me in the most basic wrestling move I know.

  “Get off, motherfucker,” Tiernan grunts, but he bears my weight and can’t move me.

  “You’d rather fight, then?” I ask him. “Trained in boxing, too, have you?”

  He blanches when I get off him, and scrambles to his feet. I’ve spent hours upon hours with my brothers and Malachy learning how to fight. The Irish don’t wear gloves but prefer bare fists. My fingers tingle at the memory.

  Tiernan heads toward me, his cheeks flaming with anger, but he doesn’t assume the stance of a good boxer. I easily duck his blow, and using the flat of my palm, hit him hard on the shoulder. I don’t really want to hurt him, I only want to teach him a lesson.

  He topples to the ground and comes up raging, and lunges at me. I easily deflect.

  “Toe the line, lad.”

  “What?” he says, shakes his head and attacks again.

  I duck his blow, swivel and squat, and when he heads my way I level him with a sharp blow that’ll only knock the wind out of him. When he’s on the ground, I fall beside him, kneel on his chest, and shake my head.

  Sheena doesn’t flinch or protest, and that pleases me. She trusts me.

  “All you did was take your eyes off me,” I say. “You looked away for one second, and it was enough for me to take you down. You call that a fight?” In seconds my knife is in my hand, open, the cold metal against his neck. Sheena gasps but still doesn’t move.

  I shake my head at him. “One swipe, lad, and the soil’s stained with your blood.” When he submits with a quiet nod, I release him. He scrambles to his feet, rubbing his neck. He’s glaring at me with a look somewhere between fury and admiration.

  “You see my point?” I ask.

  “Aye,” he grunts. “I see your point.”

  I haven’t hurt him, not a bit, only bruised his pride.

  I get to my feet and brush the stray bits of grass from my legs.

  “Now, walk over to your sister,” I order.

  This time, he eyes me warily. He’s no fool, he’s gotten my point. He expects my next move. So when he starts to walk over to her, and I shoot my leg out to trip him, he’s ready. He dodges my leg, but still, he’s no match for me. I was trained heavily at St. Albert’s. Malachy worked us until our eyes blurred with sweat, our bodies were pushed to exhaustion, our muscles ached. We learned to adapt to the pain and sting of bruises, to use open palms to avoid breaking the bones in our hands.

  So when he moves to deflect, I easily grab his wrist and pin it to his lower back. He hisses out a breath, but still, I don’t hurt him. It’s uncomfortable, no doubt, but I have a point to make. This time, it’s the cold metal of my gun I press to his temple.

  “And that easily again,” I say quietly. “You’re fucking dead.”

  “Fine,” he says. “Get off me!”

  “This is just me, Tiernan,” I tell him. “I’m just one man. But you see, up ahead of me? I’ve got brothers, also armed and trained. Willing to sacrifice their lives for me, bound by honor to do so. One word from me, and you’re surrounded.” I let my words sink in. “Can you say the same?”

  I know he can’t. He’s alone in this world, one untrained lad against an army. He doesn’t stand a chance.

  “No,” he says, and now his voice is more subdued. I’m afraid he might cry, but he clears his throat and composes himself. “I can’t. Now let me go before Fiona loses her damn mind.”

  I can’t help but grin at that. I release him and reach a hand out to him. He takes it and gets to his feet.

  “Made my point, then?” I ask him.

  He watches me for a moment, then nods his head and runs his fingers through
his hair. “Aye,” he says. “One question for you, though.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Teach me how you did that?”

  Chapter 14

  Sheena

  Falling in love with someone is a bit like being mired in quicksand. The harder you pull against it, the more you get sucked in.

  My job, my very purpose on this earth, is to find out truth and bring it to light. I’ve used methods that weren’t exactly kosher to do just that, but it doesn’t mean that I haven’t trained myself to observe things, to note what’s important and what isn’t. To find what’s actually happening versus what appears to be.

  And goddamn it, I know. I know in my heart that I’m falling in love with Nolan McCarthy.

  I’ve been lying to myself when I’ve said that I’ve hated him. Hell, maybe I did, a little. But love and hate are so closely entwined, both friends on the spectrum of passion. Sometimes all it takes is one tiny action to make the two collide.

  Or many actions, as it were.

  Beautiful, ardent love-making. The exhilarating, erotic pull of being dominated with a man who does it well. Watching him with my brothers and sister, the way he opens his heart and home. A pair of green eyes that see into my very soul.

  I’m falling so deeply in love with Nolan, I’m not sure I’ll ever surface. I’m not sure how.

  Just now, the way he was with Tiernan… my heart.

  At first, he lectured the boy with the sternness of an older brother, and he made his point well. I feared he’d hurt him when he first beckoned him over, but I trust him. He didn’t. He was careful not to, while he made his point. And the truth is, the lesson he gave my brother was a mercy, given how Tiernan could’ve fared with what he’s done.

  Afterward, Tiernan is humbled, and he should be. I can’t imagine how I’d have dealt with what he’s done if I had to manage him alone. But Nolan did it just right. Tiernan learns best with experience, and being overpowered in seconds by an older, stronger man who didn’t even lose his breath, was a humbling experience. After, Nolan reached a hand out to Tiernan, helped him get to his feet, and they talked. I’m not sure what was said, but when they were done, Tiernan was grinning.

  “He’s fine,” Nolan says when he joins me again as we take our last steps to the bakery.

  “I know it,” I tell him. “I could tell you didn’t hurt him.”

  “Aye. I wouldn’t, he’s just a lad.”

  “What did he ask you?”

  “Wants to learn ealaíona comhraic.”

  “All of it?” I ask, a bit surprised. The martial arts in Ireland encompasses everything from bare-knuckled fighting to stick fighting.

  “Aye.”

  We enter the bakery, and Nolan walks ahead of me.

  I stand a bit away from them, observing the bakery. He smiles, bends to the pram, and wipes whipped cream off baby Sam’s nose.

  I hated the man I thought he was.

  I’m in love with the man he really is.

  And hell, where does that leave me? I’ve done wrong against his family. And I may have many flaws, flaws I know so well they plague me. But if there’s anything I am, it’s determined. I persevere. And when I resolve to do something, I don’t waver.

  I should’ve known better than to trust a feckin’ O’Gregor. It was more than word of mouth, though. Everything they told me aligned with what I saw, what I believed to be true. But I see now, that I was only looking for a scapegoat. I needed someone to blame, and the McCarthys fit that bill well. And hell, they’re not exactly model citizens, so they gave me plenty to work with.

  I hate that Tiernan’s been involved in such dangerous exploits. I’m glad Nolan took him to task for it. A week ago, it would’ve infuriated me, but I’m starting to trust Nolan. The O’Gregors are nobody to fool around with, damn it. I wonder what else we’ll have to deal with because of this.

  “Sheena, have some ice cream,” Fiona says. She’s got a large cone with chocolate, and her eyes are bright and shining. Nolan watches her and the baby, smiling, but he’s having a word with his men as well. They’re speaking in hushed tones when I approach them.

  “Fancy a cone?” Nolan asks me.

  I shake my head. “No, thanks. You tell them what we found out?”

  “Aye,” Nolan says. “They were the ones that told me, doll.”

  He reaches for my hand, and it feels nice, holding his hand like this.

  “And he told me you’re to be making amends,” Lachlan says. Though he’s younger than the rest, he carries himself with the air of a much older man. Wise beyond his years, I’d guess. The boy’s seen and experienced much. I can’t help but wonder what his story is.

  “Aye,” I tell him. “I will. And when I say I’ll do something, I mean it.”

  “Good,” Lachlan says.

  “How?” The man with the glasses, the one they call Carson, watches me with his arms crossed on his chest. I hate that none of them trust me, but I hope that I can fix that. He looks familiar to me, and I can’t quite place him. I need to investigate, I think.

  “First, my job is to vindicate you with the locals,” I tell him. “And I will.”

  “Right,” Carson says, his jaw tight as if he doesn’t believe me.

  Just then, the owner of the shop comes round from the counter and approaches us. She looks a bit like Mrs. Claus with her white hair twisted in a bun at the top of her head and round spectacles perched on her nose.

  “I know you,” she says looking at me. “You look familiar to me.” She screws her face up as if trying to place me.

  “Miss Isobel, this is Sheena Hurston.” Nolan introduces us, and it’s not lost on me how others in the shop watch him. “You probably know her from—”

  “Ahh, the reporter.” Her eyes grow cold at the realization. It’s hard to imagine a jovial, friendly woman like her shooting daggers at someone, yet she manages to pull it off. “I have no use for people who drag the McCarthys through the dirt,” she says, turning away, but Nolan reaches for her hand.

  “Tell her, Sheena,” he says, warning laced in his voice as he looks to me. This is my chance, to prove to him I mean what I say. I swallow, lace my fingers together, and face her. “I’ve come here to have a little chat with you. I was wrong, before, and I’d like to interview you next week. The purpose is to redeem your friends here. May I?”

  She stares at me with wide-eyed surprise, but as my words sink in, she flushes pink. “Oh, well, now,” she says. “Me? Why would a big news reporter like you interview a woman like me?”

  I flash her my most charming smile. I’m aware of Nolan watching me, of Lachlan and Carson as well. I have to prove myself to them.

  “I’m sure you’ve much to tell me,” I say. “You’ve a thriving business in Ballyhock, and I’m told you’re good friends with the McCarthys.”

  She nods, and she grows sober. “Aye, lass. I am. And you ought to know, they keep the people here safe. We’ve no crime to speak of—”

  I stop her. This isn’t a good place for us to talk. “Why don’t we speak of this privately next week and you can tell me all?”

  “Of course,” she says with a smile. It’s not often people smile at me like that, but I’m starting to like it. No, crave it. It’s much nicer to feel welcomed than hated.

  My old doubt plagues me. How can I prove myself to be someone that’s trustworthy? I’ve been so mired in revenge that I’ve lost sight of the good and the light in this world. I’ve no friends to speak of, and the only people I care about are right here in front of me, sitting at little round tables eating ice cream and scones.

  But I will. I will prove they can trust me, goddamn it.

  We leave the shop and head into town. I’ve never really been here before, though I’ve known of the quaint little places to go in Ballyhock. The coastal village draws tourists from around the world, and thrives on the business they do. I walk with Fiona on my left and Nolan my right, as we walk the cobblestoned streets until Sam’s head falls to the side in the
pram, and he naps.

  Tiernan’s much more subdued after Nolan had a word. To be honest, it’s the first time since dad passed I’ve seen anything that resembles a boyish look about him as he chatters away to Nolan.

  “Best place to go would be the school,” Nolan says. “We’ve the tools, the studio, and the teachers there.”

  “Wait, what’s this?” I ask.

  “I’ve asked Nolan to teach me ealaíona comhraic,” Tiernan says. “He’s a feckin’ master at it, I want to learn.”

  “He said that. Are you sure, Tiernan?”

  They’ve been kind, yes. But kindness aside, this troubles me. If Tiernan gets involved with them…

  “I’ve some concerns, Nolan,” I say to him. “We’ve borrowed your home and taken up your time. I can’t ask that you spend even more time teaching Tiernan.”

  Not only that, it scares me to think of my brother being involved in anything dangerous.

  Nolan shrugs. “He’s got a good head, Sheena. He’s brave and strong, and would do well to learn the skills we can teach him.”

  “You have time?”

  “We can make it.”

  “Right,” I tell him. “But…” I don’t know how else to state my concerns.

  We don’t belong here. They owe us nothing. I have to do my job, then we’ll be on our way. Somehow.

  He tugs me closer to him, and I’m overwhelmed with his strong, clean smell, woodsmoke and leather. He laces his fingers around the back of my neck and smiles, though he has a glint in his eyes I know too well.

  “What are you afraid of, doll?” he asks. “There’s fear in your eyes you can’t hide. Are you afraid he’ll get hurt?”

  “Well, no,” I tell him. “But yes. Yes, I am.”

  He smiles. “He might, but it’ll only make him stronger. We’ve all been trained, and it was for the best.”

  “I just… it concerns me to see that my brothers and sister are… are growing attached, as it were. But we can’t do that, can’t form these attachments, you see.”