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CATHAL
The moment I step foot into the Angel pub, I can feel it – the hostility in the air, as thick and suffocating as smoke. This place isn’t just any old bar; it’s deep in Ciarán’s gang territory, a place where I’m not welcome. The animosity between us is no secret.
As I take a deep breath and steel myself against the tension, I scan the room. My eyes sweep across the patrons, most of whom keep their distance, no doubt aware of who I am. The atmosphere clings to me, heavy and oppressive, but there’s something else that draws me here – Summerbell.
My body tenses, muscles coiling beneath my skin as I fight the urge to leave this place. But she is here, and I can’t seem to tear myself away. My emotions are a tangled mess. My mind tells me to leave and never look back, but my heart… Fuck, my heart wants what it wants.
Loitering near the door, trying to appear casual, but I know my presence has already been noted. It seems like every eye in the room is on me, sizing me up, waiting for me to move. But I’m not going anywhere. Yet. I’ve never been one to back down from a challenge – even if that challenge comes in the form of my own conflicting emotions.
Ciarán knows I’m here, even if he hasn’t looked at me. He’ll know. Ever since I shot and killed the man who betrayed my brother last night, I’ve been in a mess. I’m not sure which way to turn. He probably only thinks I did it to save Summerbell, but that’s not entirely true. I did, but I also wanted to take out the traitor to my brother. Something that still surprises me. The whole game was about hurting him, but I ended up more broken than ever. Summerbell’s penetrating gaze, her words, and the heated desire in her eyes when I touched her, sullied her, hit an emotion in me that I thought was long dead.
Everything has changed. The feelings she stirs are unfamiliar and disconcerting. It’s like a fire has been lit inside my chest, threatening to burn away all the barriers I’ve built around my heart.
Having avoided looking at her until now, my gaze finally lands on her, and I drink her in. The way her hair falls around her shoulders, the curve of her lips as she smiles at something Ciarán says. That dress clings to her body. Ciarán bought her that, I know, because I would want to see her move in it as well. Have it swish around her thighs and cling to her tits, showing off her shoulders and back. She’s beautiful, captivating, and for a moment, I forget about the tension that surrounds me.
I know I’m playing with fire, being here – in his bar, in his territory, so close to Summerbell – but it’s a risk I’m willing to take. For her. And, for my godforsaken sins, for my brother too.
Summerbell’s laughter echoes through the room, her eyes sparkling as she throws her head back. She has no idea I’m here, and Ciarán hasn’t told her. A pang of longing surges through me, tugging at my chest. I’ve spent so much time and energy on this feud with Ciarán but seeing her like this and him with her – so full of life – makes me question it all.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. The realization dawns on me that I’d be willing to share her with my brother if it means having her in my life. After all, it’s not just about my desire for her but also about the bond between Ciarán and me. We may have chosen different paths, but we’re still family. Summerbell is the key to helping us heal these old wounds.
Eventually, he can’t deny my presence any longer. His eyes flicker up to meet mine, and we hold each other’s gaze, unwilling or unable to break away. It’s as if an invisible string connects us, drawing us closer despite our best efforts to resist.
Yes, I’ve chosen to put aside my vendetta against Ciarán to try and mend the broken pieces of our relationship. But that doesn’t mean I can simply erase the feelings that still linger between us. And nor does it mean he will want to, especially with Summerbell involved.
My heart aches with longing, but I remain rooted to my spot near the door, unable to shake the sudden fear that grips me. I can’t move forward, but I can’t leave either. I’m trapped, not knowing which way to turn.
“Go to him,” Ciarán’s voice cuts through my thoughts.
Summer’s gaze flits between my brother and me, uncertainty clouding her once-bright eyes. “You sure?” she asks hesitantly, seeking reassurance.
“Go on,” he says, nodding towards me. “Talk to him. He isn’t here for me, Tinks.”
As Summer rises from her seat and begins walking toward me, my pulse quickens, each beat pounding like a drum in my chest. The sight of her approaching – her long, wavy hair framing her delicate face, her bright blue eyes shining with caution – awakens something primal, a fierce protectiveness I’ve never felt before.
“Hi,” she murmurs, stopping just a few inches away from me, close enough I could reach out and touch her without any effort.
“Hey,” I manage to choke out, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat. I want to pull her into my arms and hold her tight, but I know I must resist the temptation. We’re standing on the edge of a chasm, and one wrong move could send us tumbling into the abyss.
“Thank you again for yesterday.”
“Summerbell...” I trail off, struggling to find the words that will convey the depth of my feelings for her. “Are you okay?”
She shrugs. “I’ll live, thanks to you. The rest...I’m not sure I’ve processed it yet.”
Slowly, my eyes drop to the shallow cut on her neck. The temptation is too much to bear. Lifting my hand, I press my fingers gently over the cut. “I’m sorry you got hurt. It was my fault for putting you in that position in the first place.”
“I’m glad you did, in a weird way,” she says with a soft, nervous laugh. “What happened between us, uhm, Ciarán doesn’t know yet, and I know this is complicated, and I don’t want to cause any more trouble between you and your brother.”
“Trouble?” I murmur. “He’s my blood, Summerbell. We’ve been through hell and back together, and that bond... it isn’t something that can be broken so easily.”
“I know. Let’s find a way to fix this,” she implores, her eyes pleading with me to see reason. She grabs my hand, and it feels like someone has cracked me over the head with a tree made from nails and electricity.
Pulling my hand back, I clench my fist.
She lowers her gaze. “Sorry, I should’ve asked for permission to touch you. I understand, and I won’t touch you again unless you want me to.”
“What?”
