Turning on my heels I practically race out of the office, questions swirling through my mind. Who is Rowan Byrne? Why does he need security? And the most pressing question of the moment is why do I care? My hands continue to shake as I fumble to open the bathroom door and flip the lock. Taking deep breaths, I run the underside of my wrist under cold water. My heart rate finally starts to slow. My breathing isn’t as erratic, my hands steady, and the panic gripping my throat begins to ease. Looking at myself in the mirror I note my splotchy skin and red eyes. Deciding there’s no way I’ll be able to go back out there and act like everything is okay for the rest of the day, I’m definitely leaving early. No way am I taking the chance of running into Rowan or his lackey again. Talk of my hours will have to wait until Monday.
* * *
The buzz of my phone pulls me out of my dreams. Springing up I snatch up my phone in a panic. How long have I been asleep? Looking to the other end of the couch where Rhett is still passed out, I’m trying to guess the time based on how much sun is shining through the window. After I picked him up early from Liv we played hard, then crashed even harder. Pushing my now wild hair out of my face, my finger swipes to answer without looking. Bringing it up to my ear, I’m unable to contain my yawn as I answer, “Hello?”
A deep voice that just starred in my dream answers, “Is this Clara?”
I don’t dare confirm who I am for fear that this is a trick, and we’ve been found, “Who is this?”
I can hear the amusement clear in his tone, “This is Rowan. We uh, met earlier.” Okay so his voice is just as gravely and sexy as I remember.
Why’s he calling me though? And most importantly, “How’d you get my number?” I blurt out.
“I got it from Kellum. I just wanted to make sure that you’re okay. When I came to check on you, you were gone.” That’s actually kind of sweet if you forget that his friend pointed a loaded gun at me.
“Oh, yeah I’m fine. Just finished up my work then decided to go get my son and spend the rest of the day together.”
Rowan’s curious voice cuts through the line, “Gotcha. Okay, well I guess I won’t keep you.”
“Rowan?” I rush out before he can hang up.
“Yes, Clara?” I can hear the smirk in his voice.
“Thank you. For calling, I mean. That’s really kind.”
“kind…” he trails off like he’s trying the word out for the first time.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been called that, but it sounded pleasant coming from you.” I smile and shake my head even though he can’t see me.
“Goodbye, Rowan.”
“Have a good evening, Pretty Girl.” I’m taken aback by the sweet name when the call cuts.
Pretty Girl? We don’t know each other so why did he throw that out there? Even as I think it my traitorous heart skips a beat. Looking over to Rhett I’m instantly reminded why my heart doesn’t get to skip anymore. I don’t get the privilege of looking a little too long, or having an occasional overnight guest. No, I lost those rights when I chose his father years ago. It’s just the two of us, and that’s how it has to stay to keep ussafe.
* * *
Rowan
I’m walking into my living room the day after my run in, and later phone call, with the most stunning girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. I can’t get her out of my head. I thought I just needed to jerk off in the shower this morning to the fantasy of her on her knees in front of me with those big dark brown eyes looking up at me, but nope, that just made it worse. I discreetly adjust my thickening cock in my jeans as the image flashes through my head again. When we talked yesterday she sounded like she’d just woken up from a nap. I wanted to keep her on the phone, to convince her to let me come over, to see where she lives, to meet her son. I want it all.
I wonder if this is what Da felt like the first time he met Ma. I wish there was a way I could ask him. I’m the oldest of six boys, and now I’m somehow the leader of the entire Irish crime family as well as the leader of my brothers, and also the legal guardian to the twins since they’re still underage. Our parents died two years ago. At twenty-seven years old I should still be the clan chief for my father. Working alongside him and learning everything I can so when he is in his seventies and he retired I’d be readyto take over.
Unfortunately that’s not the cards we were dealt. My Ma and Da were on their way to a musical in the city. My Ma loved musicals, and my Da loved the amazement that would shine in her eyes when she watched them. I’m pretty sure he spent more time watching her than he did watching it himself. He lived to love her and make her happy. A lot of times this life will harden you, it makes you mean, and most men don’t even know what the word faithful means. Not Da, he was ruthless when handling business, and he taught all of us to be the same way. But he loved, he loved her and he loved us.
They were almost there when the Russians attacked. They took them both. I can’t even talk about what they did to my Ma and made Da watch before they took them both from us. I was twenty-five at the time with five brothers between the ages of twenty-three and fifteen, everyone was looking to me so I figured it out. We took out the Bratva scum responsible and have been cordial when necessary with the remainder of them ever since.
I can barely steer my thoughts from my parents and Clara long enough to realize my three youngest brothers are at each other’s throats. Mac stands on one end of the coffee table. He turned twenty not too long ago, and now thinks he’s so far separated from the twins who are only three years younger than him. His shaggy medium brown hair falls over his forehead, and his green eyes the same exact color as mine are lit with rage. The twins are on the other side standing in front of the couch. Their expressions match his intensity. They stand a couple inches shorter than Mac’s six foot two, but they haven’t finished growing yet either. No doubt they’ll be as tall as our other brother Kieran by the time they’re my age.
I hate getting in the middle of their bickering; however, I’m somehow always in the middle of it. Mac is the most quiet out of all of us. If he’s fired up it’s serious. I decide to cut in because they look like they’re going to start swinging, and two versus one doesn’t fly here. With your brothers, you fight fair or not at all. “Anyone want to fill me in? If you’re going to start swinging go outside. If you break my shit I’ll be pissed.”
A sarcastic smirk takes over Mac’s face, “Go on, tell Roe what we’re fighting over.” Sully rolls his light green eyes and clenches his fists at his sides. He looks to his identical twin. In sync they both start talking a hundred miles an hour and I can’t understand a damn thing. Throwing my hand up to silence them. Looking to Flynn, solely because he looks the least murderous of the two I declare, “Flynn, you’re the speaker of the clones today. What theFUCKis happening?” Flynn pushes Sully back onto the couch and makes a zip motion across his mouth at him. A lock of Sully’s dirty blonde hair falls across his forehead as he makes a “oomph” when he lands.
All of us look just alike except for the slight hair and eye color difference. Sul and Flynn have the lightest of both between the six of us. Looking straight at me Flynn starts, “Roe, it’s not a big deal. We skipped school, the system sent some alert to Mac because apparently he’s not above hacking into a high school attendance record and setting up alarms.” He flings his arm in Mac’s direction. “You guys act like you were scholars. I KNOW you skipped school more often than you’ll ever admit.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose and closing my eyes to try to compose myself, Mac decides it’s the perfect time to throw in, “Don’t forget to tell him you didn’t skip alone.”
My eyes pop open, “Oh, great there’s more. Who?” Sully looks everywhere but me, found my target. I narrow my eyes, “Who was it, Sullivan?” We lock eyes, but he doesn’t say a word. That’s okay- we can do this all day. Flynn tries to cut in but I raise my hand silencing him.
