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This time it was me who stepped closer. “It means no, I’m not alone.”
From the doorways behind Nick came Mason and Rian. A baseball bat for one. A golf club for the other.
Behind them came more. Darren with an old chain from his shop. Noah with a near-empty whiskey bottle in his hand, no doubt grabbed from The Jar. Declan with his fists wrapped and murder in his eyes. Danny and Diarmuid with shining knuckles and set jaws.
Nick’s head whipped back around to face me. His finger was shaking with fury as he hissed, “You bitch.”
There was a noise and Conor landed softly beside me after jumping down from the wall. He rose to his full height, and I saw Nick’s eyes rise like he was searching for the peak of a mountain in the fog. Conor took my hand in his. He said nothing, he just stood beside me. He would no longer fight for me, but with me.
I smiled sweetly at Nick as he squirmed for an escape like the rat that he truly was.
“A bitch with a family now,” I told him. “A pretty bitchin’ family, if you ask me.”
I was never truly panicked with Nick following after me. It was the plan, after all. But it was wonderful to see him panicked. Eyes darting. Heart rate jumping.
“Shannon’s dead,” he blurted out, spitting the words at Conor. “Your old bitch. She’s rotting in some grave.”
“You can’t hurt him anymore, Nick,” I said, speaking for Conor. “You can’t hurt him and you can’t hurt me. We’re beyond your control now. Past your mind games. Your cruel tricks. We’re going to be together. And we’re going to be happy.”
Nick’s face twisted in rage.
“She’s a child, you sick fuck,” he tried, the pathetic lashing out of a man who’s lost.
“If we ever see you again it’s all of us that you’ll face,” I said, voice cold. “You won’t worm your way between us.”
Nick sneered, “Because you’re a family?”
“Yes.” It was Conor who spoke this time.
I smiled up at him. His grim face was fixed on Nick’s. But I didn’t miss when he subtly squeezed my hand.
Nick made a show of shoving through the line of men behind him. I don’t blame him. He had to save what face he could. He was muttering something as he rounded the corner of the alley, but none of us cared to figure out what. Nick wasn’t going to be a problem anymore. He thrived on the weak. And together we weren’t. We were strong.
We were family.
