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“I’m sorry,” I whisper as his thumb swipes along my lower lip. “For your mother, and for Father Donahue,” I tell him.
Those dark eyes, the ones that hold so much pain, lift to mine. He’s not told me much about himself, but I know he’s good. He has a heart of gold, and he cares. Even though he tries to act as if he doesn’t, I can see how he is with the men he considers family. The women too. All the girls at the club speak highly of him.
“It’s not ye who pulled the trigger,” he says then. “But those who did, those who ordered the kill, they will pay.”
I should be scared. But the man before me, the one promising to kill both my parents, doesn’t scare me. Instead, he has my respect. I don’t agree with violence, but I most certainly do not think innocent people should be hurt. And both the priest and Monster’s mother were innocent.
“What is your name?” I don’t know why the words slip from my tongue now, but they do.
His lips turn into a smile. “That’s what ye want to know?”
“Aye,” I answer in an attempt to mimic his accent, which makes him chuckle.
“Cathal,” he tells me. “But nobody calls me that anymore. I haven’t been that man in a very long time, wee fox.”
Tipping my head to the side, I look up at him and ask, “And why do you call me a fox?”
This time, he laughs out loud. The rumble vibrates through his chest. I enjoy the sound of it, and I want to hear him laugh all the time.
“Because ye’re a wily, wee thing,” he tells me. “Hidin’ secrets and such from us. Any farmer will tell ye, never trust havin’ foxes around. They’ll steal yer chickens and make off with them.”
“I don’t steal chickens,” I throw back, but I don’t stop smiling.
“Aye, but ye’re stealin’ somethin’ much more precious.” He doesn’t tell me what because he releases me and steps back. “Let’s go. We’re goin’ ta need to talk to the boyos. They need to know everythin’ you’ve just told me.”
And I realise I won’t be getting any answers from him about what he meant. Not today anyway. So, instead of fighting him on it, I appease and follow him out the door and into the main area of the clubhouse.
It’s time to come clean.
Time to face the consequences.
SIXTEEN
MONSTER
The warehouse iscold and dank. Winter has hit us with an icy, rainy feckin’ day. Miren is shaking, but I refrain from offering her a jacket. I still can’t trust her. The man who’s bound on the chair before me is one of her father’s soldiers.
I should have been at the feckin’ harbour right now bringin’ in the shipment, but I had to trust my VP to handle it. My message to Judah was received. He assured me he’d be there and oversee any implications that might crop up. There are too many feckin’ fires to put out right now, and I don’t like it.
When we’re stretched thin like this, it can be dangerous. I stop in front of our man who’s looking between us as if he’s goin’ ta shit himself. His glare lands on the girl, on Miren, and he seems to sober up.
“You,” he sneers as he looks her up and down. “You’re meant to be on our side. What you doing with these biker bastards?”
I rear back, and my fist makes contact with his face, causin’ him to howl in pain. I don’t allow any feckin’ arsehole to talk about my club like that. No matter we are the feckin’ Royal Bastards.
“Where are Patrick and Sinéad?” I ask him, gripping his cheeks and turning his attention on me.
The questions about Miren will come later. The important information I need right now is where the feck those two are. I know Patrick isn’t dead. Evil doesn’t die—it hides. It lies in wait until you let your guard down.
When he doesn’t answer, I nod for my implements to be brought over. The sleek metal tray is carried by one of the prospects. Out of all of them, he’s shown the most promise of bein’ patched in. The boy is only twenty, but he has a strong stomach, which is what we need here.
I grab one of the heavy metal hooks. It’s big enough to cause enough damage to get a man talkin’. But it’s small enough to fit into the eyelid.
“What the fuck are you doing with that?” our man asks.
With a grin, I grip his eyelashes, and I tug. When the lid comes away from the eye, I move quickly. The beggin’ and pleadin’ starts, but I ignore the request for mercy. A gasp comes from behind me, and her gentle sound, which I want to hear the moment I slide into her cunt, is like music to my ears. If Miren thinks this is bad, though, she’ll be more shocked at what I have in store for her da and that bitch mother of hers.
I’ve never in my life hurt a woman. Never wanted to. Until I learned of the real reason my ma is dead. The hit was ordered by Sinéad. And even though I haven’t yet heard her reasons, I won’t give a shite about why.
