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Andie shudders under my hands, but she doesn’t argue or try to talk me out of it. She nods, kissing me again, digging her hand into my pocket to retrieve her phone.
“I’ll see you when you get home, Connor,” she says quietly.
As Andie turns away from me, I capture her hand, cupping it with both of mine and raising it to my lips, pressing a kiss against her fingers, finding her gaze.
“I want ye naked in our bed when I get home,achuislemochroí.”
Her breathing hitches. I've no idea whether it is because of my request, my calling itourbed, or my Irish phrase, but I let her hand go reluctantly, following her out of the room and down the stairs.
Paddy is waiting for me in the foyer with Lauren, nodding stiffly as we enter the small room. We walk Andie and Lauren to their cars, climbing into Paddy’s SUV and heading for Dot.
The building is a rough-looking place. I don’t like the idea of Andie living here. There’s a fucking dodgy cunt loitering near the foyer doors in a trenchcoat. I’d bet my house he’s a flasher. He takes one look at us and hightails it out of here. The fucker is smarter than he looks.
Paddy got the address off Lauren, so I follow him up the dimly-lit stairs to the third floor. He jabs his finger at the door with the number 15 on it. I stalk over, raising my fist and pounding on the door.
Paddy seems drawn to the door across from the one we are here to pound on. I know it’s because it’s the apartment Lauren grew up in, but I shove his shoulder and jerk my head at Andie’s old door. He can visit nostalgia with his wife another time. Jesus fuck, this is about Andie.
He wises up and cracks his knuckles while I bang on the door again. There is a shuffling, and the door opens. Paddy shoves his foot inside to block it as the lad tries to slam it in our face.
I shove my shoulder against the wood, forcing it open. The lad stumbles back, raising his hands in a surrender position. Christ. He looks slimy as all hell. I can’t imagine Andie with him. Fuck that. I don’t want to imagine Andie with this fucker.
“Yes?” he sneers at us, dropping his hands as he finds some confidence from somewhere. After a quick assessment, he has clocked that we’re not Italian, and the Italians control Dot. Us not being Italian isn’t going to save him. Gianni Manchetti wouldn’t stand up for this prick even before he knew the fucker messed with my woman.
“Hamish MacLauchlan?” I growl.
“Who’s asking?”
Yeah, we have the right prick. I close my hand around his throat, shoving him back, so we’re all inside the apartment, which is a fucking pigsty. Andie would take one look at this place and cry. That’s another strike against him.
Slamming him against a wall, I sink my fist into his stomach, wiping the smug look off his face. He grunts in pain as he doubles over.
“Ye don’t fecking contact Andie Halpern again. Ye hear me?” I tug his head back and slam my fist into his nose, the skin of my knuckles splitting right as his nose breaks with a satisfying crunch.
“You know where Andie is?” he pants through his pain. I drive another blow into his stomach, winding him.
“Aye, I know where my woman is.”
His eyes widen and narrow contemptuously at me. Christ. The fucker has a death wish. Just how big is confirmed when he opens his mouth again.
“I guess that slut will spread her legs for just about anyone these days,” he sneers.
Big fucking mistake. No one calls my Andie a slut. Paddy watches from the doorway while I systematically work this cunt over with my fists until he’s barely conscious, moaning and occasionally coughing up some blood.
Straightening, I aim one last kick at his ribs. He moans, curling into a fetal position in a last-ditch attempt to protect himself. It’s a bit late for that, but he can try.
Paddy strolls over, leaning down and getting all up in the prick’s face. He opens one swollen eye, peering through the slit as Paddy sneers at him.
“You even think about contacting Andie again, and it won’t just be Connor Fitzpatrick beating your fucking arse.”
“That’s right. I’ll bring the Reaper,” I spit.
Fear flashes across his battered and bloody face. Good. Hopefully, it’s enough fear for him to leave Andie the fuck alone. Paddy and I let ourselves out of the apartment, heading back to our SUV.
Seamus wanted an update, so by the time I drive my SUV home from his place, all the lights are off. Andie must be in bed. I remember my request with a smirk, taking the stairs two at a time until I’m on the third floor.
The bedroom is dark, and Andie is fast asleep as I slip into the room. I can see her bare shoulders peeking above the coverlet from the hall light. She clearly followed my instructions.
Stripping, I throw my blood-speckled clothes into the hamper, quickly showering and scrubbing the blood off my hands. I towel myself down and make my way back into the bedroom, not bothering to put any sweats on. They would only get in the way of what I have in mind.
