Bella huffed in frustration. “The day of our wedding, I stood in front of the minister and promised till death do us part, Darragh. I kept those vows to my husband the moment I reached for my gun and put three bullets in him. He even begged for his life, asked me to give him a chance to make things right between us. So, I did. My final act of so-called loyalty to Kellan O’Brien.”
Holy fuck.
Connor had a strange look on his face after Bella’s confession. A mix between recognition and resoluteness creased his brow as he raised his hand and uttered a single word:
“AYE.”
The other three bosses mimicked his response with their own.
“AYE.”
The sound of the bullet hitting her square in the forehead never came; at least I never heard it. Point blank, dead center. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, properly wiping the smirk off her stupid-looking face before she knew what hit her. Her body propelled backwards off the stage, taking the offending knife right along with her. Blood splattered on the side of Connor’s face, yet he stood from his chair and straightened out his suit jacket as if readying himself for a day at the country club. He removed a handkerchief from his breast pocket and casually used it to wipe away the wetness. I heard an echo, a murmur. It was my name, I think…
“Otelia.”
“Otelia.”
Something heavy was placed over my shoulders. It was warm and smelt like Mac. I started to shake uncontrollably, chilled to the bone. My legs no longer had the strength to keep me standing upright. I went down, but the ground never broke my fall. Strong arms lifted me up and held me close.
I knew those arms.
I knew the man.
“Darragh.” I spoke his name like a prayer before he carried me away.
_______________
“She’s a strong woman, son, just like your mother.”
“Don’t you mean stubborn as all fuck?”
“That too…”
Leave it up to me to fall asleep during a monumental crisis. I thought I was dreaming for a second before everything came back to me in a rush of broken necks and bloodied faces. My eyes fluttered open in time to see Mac and his father sitting at a nearby table sipping from glasses filled with amber liquid. They both smiled brightly once they realized I was awake and made their way over to where I was laid out, wrapped securely in a pile of soft blankets. My head was pounding to beat the band, and my body ached all over; even my earlobes hurt like hell. I was stretched out on a leather couch in another conference room, but this time, there were no hoods or menacing-looking men ready to beat my face in. I tried to sit up but found the slightest of movement impossible.
“Relax, Otelia, you’ve had a bit of a shock to your system, I’m afraid,” Connor advised.
“Where am I?” I asked, throat raw as sandpaper.
“My private office. Safe as a bug in a rug,” he joked.
I remembered what happened the last time I’d flirted shamelessly with the silver fox, so I refrained from doing so, but boy did I want to. He’d changed out of his bloody clothing and was now dressed in what I would describe as chic leisure wear. Black slacks with a comfy sweater and a pair of classic leather loafers that probably cost a mint. The white bandage that peeked out from under the collar did nothing to ruin his style. He made that shit look good.
Mac sat on the edge of the chair looking a little worse for wear. He was also fully dressed now, which was a damn shame. Covering that sexy chest should be a crime. He reached for my hand, and I allowed him to take it, starving for physical contact with the man who’d saved my life.
“How are you feeling, kitty cat?”
“Like Rip Van Winkle took a shit in my mouth. Make yourself useful. I want to sit up.”
He snickered before using his arm to help me get vertical. I took in father and son with matching smirks on their handsome faces right before the door swung open with a loud bang. Three men walked in carrying different-sized shopping bags. I recognized Ferdi’s ginormous tail as one of them, but the other two? Not a damn clue.
One was the spitting image of Mac, maybe a little older, a little wilder, with the same dark features he’d inherited from his mother. The other was well...how should I put this? Scary as fuck with a Jack the Ripper vibe? Yeah, something like that. He was probably the most stunning man I’d ever laid eyes on, with the exception of Mac, yet his body language screamed serial killer. As big and tall as Ferdi, honeyed-brown hair with streaks of gold, he was what I pictured Connor would’ve looked like as a younger man. They each sported the same worried scowl as they piled the stuff on the table unconcerned with how it landed.
“Bought you some clothes and food, Odie. Glad to see you’re finally awake,” Ferdi remarked.
“Thanks, big dog,” I replied.
“Otelia.” Mac got my attention. “These are my brothers, Oran the eldest and Fionn the middle, but you can call him Spoon. Remind me to tell you later how he got the name.”
“Suck my dick, asshole,” Fionn, or Spoon, hissed at Mac while palming his junk.
“Nice to meet you both. Wish it were under better circumstances. Getting hit by that parked car makes for a terrible first impression,” I quipped.
“You still look damn good, girl. Don’t sweat it,” Spoon replied.
“Yeah, shit was fucked up.” Oran’s mouth curved into a sneer. “It’s why I should’ve been there.”
“It was handled, Oran,” Connor scolded.
Mac gathered me in his arms, moving me closer until I was damn near on his lap. There was a dark cloud in the room, an air of intensity so strong you could almost taste it. I sat there contemplating my good fortune to be surrounded by all these virile men knowing there was a lot of unfinished business to attend to. Oran was the first to get right down to it.
“You tell her yet?” he grunted. “We need to get this sorted before Darragh returns to Remington. I won’t have this hanging over our heads, and if I need to take action, I will.”
“The fuck you say, cocksucker?” Mac snapped, attempting to stand before Connor raised a hand to settle him down.
“Enough,” he ordered, voice low, menacing. “I apologize for my son, Otelia. He forgets that I am still the head of this family and therefore make all decisions regarding its inner workings. Now, with that being said, you deserve an explanation as to what you witnessed here tonight.”
“Ignorance is bliss, Connor, and let’s not talk about how curiosity killed the cat. The way I see it, you don’t owe me shit, so let’s just bug out and call it even, shall we?”
“Like your girl, bro.” Spoon smirked. “She got a sister? I might even settle for a snaggle tooth cousin fresh out of rehab if her tits are real.”
“Don’t be a dick,” Mac growled.
This guy was something else.
I liked him immensely.
“Still.” Connor refocused. “There must be something. If you are anything like my wife, as I suspect you are, there has to be a small bit of truth you’ll need before you leave us.”
I thought about that.
He was right. There was one thing.
“How long had you known about Bella? If you don’t mind my saying so, you didn’t seem the least bit surprised at her little coup attempt. I know you’re a bad motherfucker, but come on, even Van Damme would’ve been shitting bricks with a knife to his throat.”