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She looks sharply at me then, and I feel an undercurrent of anger replace the air of detachment I'd picked up from her previously. “She was unrecognizable, you know. Abused, tortured, and defiled in a way I've never seen in all the years I've been aware of this life, then hung by her wrists, naked and butchered, on the front gate here." She waves vaguely, her voice harsh and accusing, and despite having nothing to do with whatever it was that occurred, I find myself apologizing. "I'm sorry..." I trail off, shocked and sickened. Nothing I can say will ever make up for what the poor woman endured, and it brings my own plight into perspective.
Róisín's shoulders loosen and she gives me a hard smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "You have nothing to apologize for, but be warned, there are those here who would disagree and want blood for blood. Whether you realize it or not, what you did in the main hall went some way to appease the men, but there’s no telling how long that will last, so I’d avoid putting yourself in a position where you don’t have any protection. The men are loyal and respectful, but when tensions are high like this, and it involves one of our own kin, sometimes it’s easier to act first and ask for forgiveness later, if you get my meaning.”
I take the warning for what it is: a caution not to try and escape in case I find myself out of the proverbial frying pan and into the fire, instead. But it feels like it’s been offered in good faith.
Still, as if she remembers herself and where she is, Róisín whirls around to leave, the expression on her face one of distaste, maybe at me, maybe at the situation, maybe at her own acknowledgment that men are assholes; I can’t tell. But as the guy, Liam, closes the door behind her and the other girl, who’s been little more than a silent shadow, neither speaking nor showing much expression, I hear the distinctive click of a lock snapping into place, and her warning brings into sharp relief the precariousness of my presence here.
Chapter Nine
CIARAN
One look at my twin’s expression and I know Callum is going to be riding my arse as soon as we’re in private. The two of us may be joint leaders of the New York branch of the Irish mafia, but being the oldest by a whole nine minutes gives me a tiny nod of seniority. So, while he’d never say a word in front of the men, much like Róisín, he’ll roast me as soon as there’s no one about to overhear his particular cheeky brand of disrespect.
And true to form, he starts as soon as we head into the attached living quarters of Ár n-áit. “So, how does it feel getting yer dick sucked off in front of all the men like that?” he asks, trying, and failing to keep a straight face.
“And one wearing another man’s wedding dress, no less.” He shakes his head and laughs out loud. “I’ve seen some things in my time, brother, but that’s a first, and one that’ll keep the men in gossip for a good while.”
“You’re as bad as they are,” I growl, though it’s without heat. “Worse than a bunch of women.”
“Well, you’ve got to admit, it certainly livened things up this afternoon. Never saw that being the way this day would end.”
I gave a noncommittal grunt, not wanting to get into my own disgruntled feelings, even with my twin. I still need to sort through those for myself. Maricela has somehow, unexpectedly, dug her way under my skin within a few short hours, and it’s left me feeling poleaxed. “At least it gave the men some small sense of closure, even if it wasn’t the plan. Now we just need to decide what to do with her. Has there been any contact yet?”
Callum shook his head. “Nope, none. I’m surprised. I thought for sure the Viper would be on our backs by now, but maybe there’s more folks he’s pissed off than just us, and he’s still trying to work out who’s got her.”
“Or maybe he doesn’t care,” I suggest, uncomfortable with how much the thought appeals to me.
“Oh, he cares all right,” Cal states in no uncertain terms. “We humiliated him in front of a cathedral full of wedding guests by stealing his bride. Much like you with Orla, he might not give a single shit about the girl, but you can bet your bottom dollar he cares about the circumstance.”
“So, do we make contact or wait?” I ask him, since we rule this roost together on equal terms, and no decisions are made unless the other agrees.
A wicked expression crosses Callum’s face. “Let the bastard stew for a while, I say. If he’s messing with more than just us, it’ll serve him right to panic about where the next threat is coming from.”
I flash my brother a grin. It’s uncanny how alike we are that we’re always on precisely the same page. “My thoughts, exactly,” I say with a wink.
He gives a clipped nod of acknowledgment. “And now I suppose I’d better go and see what Róisín has done with Maricela,” I sigh, not looking forward to the next confrontation… or two. No doubt I’ll have both women to contend with, and I’m thankful Emylyah tends to be on the unassuming side of quiet, so I won’t be getting blowback from all three of them.
Callum throws back his head and laughs. Git. Then slaps me on the back. “Good luck with that boyo.”
Damn, some peace would be nice occasionally. But I guess that’s never going to be a thing in this lifetime; such is the life we lead.
Not finding either my sister or my new captive in any of the obvious places, I assume my sister’s taken Maricela to her rooms, so I head for the privacy of my own suite and decide, with some relief, to take the opportunity to get my head together. There’s not any bother they can get themselves into, especially since Liam’s with them, though the good lord knows Róisín is always a damn magnet for trouble. God help the fella whoever thinks he’s man enough to take her on.
My relief is short-lived when I find Liam standing sentry outside. I unlock my door to find Maricela muttering to herself as she tests the locks on each of the windows. Cursing under my breath, I watch her for a few moments. She’s so engrossed in trying to find a way out, she’s oblivious to my presence, but her actions are a useful insight. Not that I doubted for a moment she’d ever be the type to sit around waiting for luck to fall in her lap. No, this little filly is always going to be looking for a way out. Something else to keep in mind. The last thing I need is to broker a deal with the Viper and then not be able to uphold my end of the bargain.
“Nice try, sweetheart, but you’ve no chance of getting out of here.” I walk over and tap the window lock she had her fingers on, then turn and stand with my back to it, arms folded, staring at her. “Carry on if it makes you feel better, but even if you get the locks open, the windows are alarmed and use bulletproof glass. It's impossible."
She gives me a look that has me fighting the sudden urge to kiss the expression right off her face. Or maybe spank her. Damn, but the woman has spirit. It’s something I’d never expected to find in the fiancée of a sworn enemy, but I’ve got to admit it suits her.
Her eyes narrow, and she studies me. “I'm here, aren't I? So, nothing's impossible," she retorts.
I tip my head in acknowledgment. "Aye, but the Abbey was always going to be the weakest link. We'd never have gotten you out of your compound, and the same is true here."
Her gaze flicks to the door, and I watch her in silence, almost expecting her to make a dart for it, but she doesn’t move.
I locked it, but even if I hadn’t, there's a guard on the other side. Not that I tell her. Instead, I walk over to the liquor cabinet and pour myself a double shot of whiskey. Taking a deep swallow, I look at her as I sip the fiery liquid, once again trying to fathom this woman and why I find her so intriguing.
“Oh, I’ll find a way,” she spits out. “You won’t be able to keep me here for long, you know. I’m not going to sit around and wait for you to use and discard me like some cheap whore.”
