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“Yes!” Finn barks across the room, causing me to jump. “Fucking cunt. He and his goons can rot in hell.”
Ronan takes another long drink of his whiskey. “Cece was supposed to tell you everything in time, but she must have been scared too. She probably didn’t want to fuck up your life even more. Then, she died and never got the chance.”
“So what, you brought me here to make sure I keep up this lie? Or what? You’ll kill me? What if I don’t want to do it? What if I just leave? What if…”
“Harper…” The way Mac says my name does something to me. I instantly feel calmer. He moves his hand from my knee and wipes a tear from my cheek. “Sweetheart, you need to relax. We aren’t here to hurt you. We want to protect you, but you need to breathe.” He continues to run the pad of his thumb across my cheek.
After a few minutes, I finally get my breathing under control, and Ronan continues. “Declan didn’t know you existed. When he murdered Freya and Aidan, he thought that was that. Somehow he found out about you. Word is he’s coming for you.”
“Well, that sounds ominous.” I halfheartedly chuckle.
A small smile tugs at Ronan’s lips. “Yeah, I’d say so. At the request of our dad, we brought you here to keep you safe.” Just like that, his smile is gone. “Until we find out when and who is coming for you, you’ll stay here. We are officially your live-in babysitters.”
“Ronan, can you not act like a complete dick about it.” Finn finally takes a seat in the armchair. “Liam and Emma want her safe, so that’s what she will be.”
Why didn’t he call them Mom and Dad?
“We have more important things going on. But, I guess if it keeps the bank running,” his eyes find mine, “then I’ll make due. Just stay out of our way and don’t leave the apartment without our say-so.”
With that, he stands up and walks down the hallway. Storytime is over? Yeah, he’s my least favorite—such an attitude.
Finn stands up from his chair, grabs his suit jacket and tie, gently draping them over his forearm, and looks down at me. “I know this was a lot of information at once. We can talk more in the morning. Any questions you have, we’ll answer,” he smiles. “Well, maybe not Ronan but Mac and I will.” He turns on his heels and heads into the room at the front of the hall.
Questions. Of course, I have questions. You just told me my parents are members of the mob, I have an evil grandfather who killed his own daughter, and my favorite place on earth – my safe place – is a stash house for the Irish Mafia. Shit, more tears. Mac stands up and holds out his hand, “Come on. Let’s go to your room.” I look up at him with a pinched expression. I know damn well he isn’t trying to make a move on me.
But would I mind? I’m not so sure.
“I’ll take you to your room, and then I’ll go to mine,” he corrects. Even though it sounds as if he’s not sure that’s what he wants to do.
I grab his hand and stand toe to toe with him. He leans down and whispers in my ear, “You’re safe, Harper Hayes. I promise.”
Safe.
After everything they just told me, I’m unsure of so many things, but I seem to be sure of one thing. With these three, that’s exactly what I am. Safe.
5
Mac
I can’t let it go. The image of what Harper’s perfect, naked body would look like underneath mine hasn’t left my brain since I left her alone hours ago. It’s nearly 3 a.m., and I can’t rest.
Against my better judgment, I walked Harper to her room, wanting to keep my eyes on her as long as possible. Instead of stopping at the door and letting her explore the guest room for herself, I followed her inside.
I watched as she ran her fingers along the white satin bedspread, and I instantly imagined the noises I could get her to make while sprawled out over the sheets. My breath hitched when her eyes went wide as she spotted the soaking tub in the bathroom.
What I would do to see her flawless skin in that damn tub covered in bubbles.
I’ve been with my fair share of women. I’m fully aware of the effect I have on them. Something about a tattoo-covered mafia man screams, “Come, fuck me.” And to be honest, I’m not complaining.
I love a quick lay as much as the next guy, but it has never really done it for me. I’ve always wanted something… more. However, with our line of work, a long-term relationship isn’t really in the cards.
However, there’s something about Harper. Everything about her screams absolute and utter perfection. Her innocence and how she seems utterly oblivious to the evil that has surrounded her for her entire life. Not to mention I don’t think I could have dreamt up a more beautiful woman if I tried; the way her body curves in all of the right places, her unruly curls, and forest green eyes I could get lost in.
My cock immediately stirs under the sheets as I imagine Harper on her knees in front of me, looking up at me with those eyes, a fistful of hair in my hand, and those perfect lips wrapped around my… fuck. I need to get a fucking grip.
Unable to take it anymore, I walk into my bathroom and turn the shower on. After standing under the stream for what seems like an hour, I manage to relax enough to the point where I feel like I’ll be able to sleep. Except when I crawl into bed, the only thing I see every time I close my eyes is the face of the woman down the hall.
* * *
