Kyra: The Irishman’s Wife (For The Love Of The Irish Book 2)

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Kyra: The Irishman’s Wife (For The Love Of The Irish Book 2) Page 8

by V Vee


  For someone who had once told me she would never have kids because they were nature’s best “pussy blockers”, my best friend hadn’t let the birth of her daughter stop her from still getting her rocks off. I still had to not only call to let her know I was coming by, but I had to announce myself when I got there. More than once I’d gone over to Manus and Michele’s place, the infamous M&M, only to find them fucking in the garage, or in the living room. Once I’d caught Manus just as he ripped off my best friend’s panties, lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist, and just before he pressed her against the side of the house and began fucking her.

  I’d had to rush the twins back into the car, ignoring Ludwig’s look of horror as he drove us all back to the “Big House.” Ever since the car bombing, Andrew had assigned Ludwig to be with the kids and me to be our personal security. While I would never admit to it, even under the threat of torture, it did make me feel better to have the big and imposing man with me every time I turned around. It wasn’t that I was afraid for me, per say, it was more for my children. AJ and Andrea were innocent and helpless, and they needed to be protected at all costs. Having Ludwig with me meant they would be. While the imposing Enforcer didn’t have any children of his own, he treated all of the new babies in the clan and crew as if they were his own. He was especially close with Galil, Harper and Galvin’s daughter. Ludwig had been a godsend to Harper when she’d finally introduced the little girl to her father. It had been a showdown of epic proportions when Galvin had found out, but that was their story, not mine.

  My story involved going to my husband’s office to see if I could find out where he’d gone and why. When I’d seen the letter from my uncle Oscar, I’d been livid and surprised by my family’s audacity to try and make demands of my husband. More than that, the balls they had to threaten to take my children away from me had made me see red. But I’d known I had to get over to my uncle’s house to try and prevent Andrew from killing my entire family.

  But when I’d arrived, Andrew had things well in hand. I hadn’t known who the white girl in the room was, or what her role was in everything, but she’d looked familiar. When I continued to assess her, I realized where I knew her from.

  She’d been the girl who’d told me about Andrew being accused of raping a few girls. Seeing her there, with bruises covering her body, I’d known without needing to ask that she was in an abusive relationship with someone, but that someone was not my Andrew. Yes, my husband could be rough when it came to fucking, and there had been times when I’d walked away with a few bruises myself, usually around my neck, my wrists, hips, and on my ass, but they were bruises that I reveled in. That thrilled me. It always served to remind me of how much my man wanted me. Sometimes all it took was for our eyes to meet before he was all over me. It was thrilling and very sexy.

  But the bitch who was currently being interrogated by my husband wasn’t experiencing that side of the man I loved. She was face-to-face with Andrew, The Irishman. Not Andrew, The Husband. Both of them were sexy but meeting one of them would wind up with you dead from torture, a knife, or a gun. Meeting the other would make you feel as if you’d died but in the most pleasurable way.

  I stepped up to the front door of my uncle Oscar’s house and nodded a thanks to Ludwig who opened the door for me, quickly and silently. The gaze of every person, who was still alive and conscious, was trained on my husband. They hadn’t even noticed me coming in. When my eyes settled on my uncle David, however, I knew I wouldn’t be able to leave before I’d settled a score with the man.

  “Keep my name out of your mouth,” Andrew was saying to the girl who’d told me lies about my man. What was that bitch’s name? “Stop spreading lies, and don’t even think about saying anything to my wife or anyone who knows me. We had one night. That was it. And while I have exceptional dick game, your pussy was extremely forgettable. I want my wife. My woman. And only her. You will never compare to her. No matter how much you tan your skin, dye your hair, or how big you get your breasts. You aren’t even worthy of licking her boots.” Andrew leaned even closer to her and I knew it was time for me to speak up, what a perfect way to enter a room, just as my husband was complimenting me, while subsequently threatening someone else. “Or I will turn you over to her and she will eviscerate you.”

  “You’re damn right I will,” I said, and winked when Andrew turned to look at me with his eyebrows lifted.

  “Damn baby, we were just about to leave,” Andrew remarked in an obvious lie.

  I simply shrugged and stepped completely into the room, wearing my favorite pair of faux leather leggings, a black tank top, and a long, green peacoat, a pair of black ankle boots on my feet. I’d been miserable while I was pregnant with the twins, but this current baby hadn’t been too bad on my body, especially for her to be coming so closely to her siblings.

  Yes, that’s right motherfuckers, my ass is having another girl.

  “I know you were honey. I’ve been listening from outside, but I couldn’t let you have all the fun,” I said as I pulled my guns out of my purse.

  I pointed one at my uncle, who was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of slacks, knowing that was his official uniform when he was out molesting little girls. Mother fucking son of a bitch bastard.

  I pulled the trigger, as I remembered him coming into my room, telling me to be quiet, both before and after my parents had died. His breath smelling like old menthol cigarettes, cheap whiskey, and even cheaper cologne. I wasn’t sure how my grandmother hadn’t noticed what was going on, but I could only assume it had something to do with the criminal empire she ran, which was why I was way more involved and aware of what was going on with my children than either my parents or my grandmother had ever been.

  No one. Not ever again, I promised the universe as I watched the life leave my uncle’s eyes, his face still showing surprise. Whether from being shot and killed, or from seeing me, strong, healthy, alive, and with the power to take his life from him just as he’d taken my innocence, I wasn’t sure, but all that mattered was that he was dead.

  His daughters would probably throw a mother fucking parade in my honor.

  I then turned the other gun at the whimpering white girl. The WWG. Michele would be so proud of me for thinking of the new acronym. Which was much better than the acronym for Crying Black Girl. Apparently CBG was already a thing? Who knew?

  “Kyra! Why did you do that?” My aunt screamed at me.

  I shrugged as if seeing the man again hadn’t completely affected me. “He touched me when I was a little girl. I’d always meant to kill him for it one day, today was as good a day as any. And if I’d told Andrew and let him do it, then dear old Uncle David would have had his skin flayed from his bones, his intestines removed from a large cut in his belly button, his eyes plucked out, and his dick cut off and shoved in his mouth.”

  Andrew laughed as my aunt looked at me in horror.

  “She’s not wrong I said, except the dick part. You’re the one who goes around cutting off dude’s cocks, baby,” Andrew pointed out and I feigned surprise by dropping my open in shock.

  “Oh yeah, you’re right!” I waved my hand in an offhanded manner when my aunt’s eyes widened even further. “Oh Aunt Lovette, you really shouldn’t look so shocked. I mean, you told my mother I would wind up in hell with her one day, right?”

  Andrew narrowed his eyes and I knew I would have some explaining to do about how fucked up my family was, truly was, later that evening.

  “And even more than that, you were one of the women I’d seen coming out of my parents’ bedroom when I was younger. When my mom was off at work and my dad was watching me? You know, coming out and shoving your filthy panties in your purse?”

  Lovette gasped and jumped up from her seat, only to be shoved back down into it by Ronan’s firm hand.

  I sashayed over to my aunt and forced her mouth open before I shoved the muzzle of my gun into her aunt’s mouth.

  “Oh come on Auntie! You know how to
suck. I heard you that day. Gagging on my father’s dick, more than once screaming his name, begging him to cum inside of you.” Fury permeated every cell of my body as I remembered my father’s betrayal of my mother with multiple women, one of them her own sister.

  “Did you get pregnant by him? Did you have my father’s baby and raise it as my cousin?” I snarled.

  Tears spilled from my aunt’s eyes as she nodded.

  “Did you keep the baby?”

  Lovette nodded.

  “Is her name Charlene?” I asked angrily as the startling possibility exploded within me. Was my aunt and her illegitimate child behind all the chaos, death and destruction that had been plaguing my family as of late?

  And with the mention of that name Lovette shook her head furiously, her eyes bigger than they had been, looking more frightened by the sheer question than she had been of the gun shoved in her mouth.

  “Why are you so afraid?” Andrew asked, stepping forward and away from the other woman. “Do you know who Charlene is?”

  Lovette looked between Andrew and I and nodded.

  “Who is she?” I asked. Lovette shook her head.

  “Who the fuck is she?” Andrew practically yelled, and if it had been any other time, I would have placed my hand on his arm to calm him down, wholeheartedly believing a gentle word oftentimes got results better than brute force.

  Not often, but sometimes.

  Lovette trembled and shook her head again, this time slower. But before either Andrew or I could ask the question again, bits of Lovette’s skull, brain matter, blood and hair exploded in our faces. Andrew and I both looked down at my hand to see if I had squeezed the trigger by accident, but the sound of a scuffle reached our ears and when we turned the sight of Ronan wrestling Melonee for the shotgun which had been propped in the corner was more than a little surprising.

  Fully sick of that bitch, I marched over and coldcocked Melonee in the face, grunting when she dropped, before I turned to my husband, glancing down at my clothes in disgust, my aunt’s blood running down my face.

  “We can interrogate her later. You know what tonight is?” I asked him.

  Andrew smiled as he walked up to me, pulling out the green handkerchief he always kept on hand, from his pocket and using it to wipe my face.

  “It’s date night,” he said.

  I nodded and smiled. “Exactly. That’s one of the main reasons I followed you. Wanted to make sure you hadn’t forgotten and wouldn’t be late. But before we go out to eat, we need to go shopping, the slut got the bitch’s brains all over me.”

  “Whatever you want, baby.”

  I squeezed his hand and turned to leave the house, fully prepared to get a full makeover and some new clothes before my date with my husband that evening.

  Later that evening, after what I would call a very productive six hours of shopping, I was dressed in brand new green, halter, cocktail dress with a sweetheart neckline, trimmed in black at the bust and along the hem, with a black belt that was elastic and able to fit around my ever-expanding middle. I’d had my nails done over—blood was a bitch to clean out of acrylic nails—with an off-white base coat and green and white clovers with tiny rhinestone centers, throughout. I’d foregone wearing a pair of heels that evening, because… bitch, I’m pregnant.

  Between the nausea, which I still had towards the end of my second trimester, the weird food cravings—who thought eggs over easy, with cubed pickles, crushed pineapple, and ketchup was delicious? I did—and the urge to sleep constantly, I had decided to lean in when it came to this pregnancy. I’d fought the changes of my body while I was carrying the twins, the entire time they’d been inside of me. I still went out to take care of business, killing people, collecting payments, torturing folks… running businesses… but with this pregnancy?

  I frowned as I came to a startling realization. I reached out to grab Andrew’s arm, and he turned to me, his hands immediately coming to my stomach in concern.

  “What’s wrong? Is it the baby?” He asked in a rushed tone. He snapped his fingers and we were instantly surrounded by the guards and Enforcers we’d brought with us. I waved them all away.

  “Back the fuck off, you overprotective assholes,” I growled, feeling the need to reassert myself as a badass.

  I noticed the way each of the men glanced over at Andrew, who nodded, before moving away and it pissed me off even more.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?” He questioned, cupping my face in his large hands.

  Tears instantly filled my eyes at his gentleness and concern. How fucking dare he! I was trying to be angry with him and he was being sweet? Rage filled me and I punched him in the shoulder.

  When Andrew winced and rubbed at the wounded area I nodded, refusing to let him know how badly my hand was hurting. I would win this round. He would not make me feel as if I’d become weaker because I had children. I was a woman. We only got stronger when we gave birth, or got pregnant, or adopted, or decided those things weren’t for us. We didn’t become weaker, if our bodies grew weaker, our minds and spirits, our damn souls became stronger.

  I was not weak.

  “Kyra?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him and said through gritted teeth, “I am not weak, Drew.”

  He blinked at me, then shook his head. “Who called you weak, K-Love?”

  I pointed at my head, then at myself, then at him. I knew it confused him even more but how did I explain what was going on with me? Our twins hadn’t wreaked such havoc on me, maybe because they knew it was going to be two of them and I would need to be of sound mind…

  “I’ve only killed five people this month, Drew,” I whispered in horror.

  I waited for him to be as shocked as I was, instead, he stared at me for a moment, blinking, then he burst into laughter. My mouth dropped open in surprise and tears rushed to my eyes again. I inhaled deeply when he tugged me into his arms, and I sighed as his comfort and amusement wrapped me in their warm embrace.

  “You’re not the only one who’s been affected by those damn babies, K.” Andrew shook his head and I chuckled. “I’m serious. Have you noticed that since our two “families” merged, that there have been babies being born all over the place? My men used to hang around playing Call of Duty™ and Diablo 3™ but now? They’re all rushing home to girlfriends, lovers, fiancés, wives, babies… none of us have killed as many as we used to.”

  “Except you Boss,” Ludwig pointed out and I frowned as I stared at the big Enforcer before turning to look at my man with a quirked eyebrow.

  “Baby, I couldn’t have done it if it weren’t for you. You hold things down at home so that I can go out there and shoot people, stab them…”

  “Remember that guy whose tongue you cut out and shoved up his ass?” Dermot chuckled. I stared at the Enforcer, who was the same size as Ludwig and Ronan, looking exactly like the Irish version of the giant Italian bodyguards from the movies. I knew, however, that Dermot was a big teddy bear… when he wasn’t cutting off people’s limbs before drowning them. The man had been so afraid of me cutting off his dick he’d told me about Andrew being caught in a shootout two years ago. But I often worried about him, he was younger than a lot of the other Enforcers and he hung onto their every word, especially about women, and those jackasses didn’t know shit.

  “Derm, shut the fuck up man,” Ronan muttered.

  I stared at Andrew and he shrugged. “So it’s okay that I’m not killing as many people as you because I’m being the good little woman taking care of the kids?”

  “Don’t put fucking words in my mouth, Kyra,” Andrew growled.

  “Then say what you fucking mean, An. Drew,” I retorted.

  “Don’t start,” Andrew said, stepping close to me.

  “Or. What?” I asked, putting my hands on my hips.

  “I will put you over my knee, Kyra. I don’t care if your motherfucking ass is pregnant. I don’t even fucking care if we’re in a goddamn restaurant. You know how I feel about that bullshit.�
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  I shrugged and turned to walk off. I jerked off his hand and continued towards the door of the restaurant. I wasn’t even sure why I was so angry, I knew my man, knew what he meant, but at the same time.

  I wanted to kick his bitch ass.

  In my angry huff I walked into another man coming into the building. He was about six foot two, lean and muscled, with blond hair and a beard, wearing a three-piece suit. His clothes and his cologne screamed “money”, but at the time all I wanted was to get the hell away from my husband.

  “Excuse me,” I apologized.

  “No need to apologize to me. Any time I am in the presence of a beautiful woman I consider myself blessed. So thank you for bumping into me,” he said.

  I rolled my eyes at his cheesy pick up line.

  “Does that line ever work?” I asked with a small laugh.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s the first time I’ve ever used it. You tell me… did it work?”

  I shook my head. “Hardly.”

  “Well, I guess I’ll have to figure out something else to try and get you to agree to a date with me. My name’s Eirik Sæmundsson. And you are?”

  “She’s fucking married that’s who she is,” Andrew’s voice, filled with rage came from directly behind me. The heat from his body seeped into my own and I found myself leaning back into him, my panties growing wet just at his scent.

  Goddamn this man. How did he get me so fucking hot for him just with a sniff?

  “She’s married? She didn’t say that,” Eirik said with a smirk.

 

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