“That’s the fucking problem,” Lorcan says. “Hedoesknow her, doesn’t he?”
“Would you stop it,” I snap. I down my drink and slam the glass on the bar. “Stop talking about me like I’m not right here.”
“Weknowyou’re here,” Declan says, grinning.
My cousin Declan’s controlled chaos—adored for the way he masks violence with charm.
Declan was once the golden boy of the McCarthys. Gilded. Untouchable. But that shine dulled fast, fucked off somewhere between the pills and the power. Addiction made him chaos. Before he fell apart, everyone was drawn to him—half terrified, half mesmerized.
Where my eldest brother Seamus clings to rules like gospel, I deal in loyalty, quiet and unflinching.
Declan? He doesn’t bother with either. He slides under rules, ducks around them, and fucks them sideways if he feels like it.
He’s done unforgivable things, real twisted shit. He’s the headline in every scandal and the center of every storm. But somehow, he always chooses whether to follow or break rank. No one decides for him.
“Tell us the truth then,” Declan says, sipping his Jameson like it’s holy water.
A leggy blonde drapes herself around his shoulders. She’s in a silky purple number that barely clings to her tits and shows off the undercurve of her ass like a goddamn invitation.
She moans when he exhales.
“That feel good?” he murmurs, sounding almost bored.
“Would you like me to get my friend again tonight, sir?” she purrs in his ear, her eyes done up like a cat—headband, whiskers, the whole damn thing.
He nods. “Aye. Go get her.”
When she turns, he gives her a parting slap to the arse like she’s his favorite toy.
Declan likes his women in numbers, the McCarthy family fuck boy.
“She still holding a grudge?” Declan asks, eyeing me over the rim of his glass.
He had a different friend group back then, didn’t know how deep it went or how sharp it cut. I doubt even Seamus knows.
I shake my head and try to brush it off.
“Some of my class bullied her,” I mutter, but it’s weak. Cowardly, really. “Fine, the truth is, I wasn’t very… nice to her. She got me in so much goddamn trouble in school, which got me in trouble at home. She was one of those goody-two-shoes types. Did the right thing. Made the rest of us look worse just by existing.”
“Ugh. One of those,” Lorcan says, wrinkling his nose. “And you’re marrying the lass, why?”
“Because Seamus fancies it’ll do us good,” I mutter, shrugging.
The truth? Her father made a deal we couldn’t refuse. No one’s been married in our family for a few years. “Guess it’s my turn. Would’ve been Torin’s if he wasn’t still rotting behind fuckin’ bars.”
Declan sighs.
“It’s just as well,” I say. “Torin’s got demons. Needs to fight ’em before he takes a woman.”
“You get my text, brother?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Aye.” I don’t look up from my phone. “Told you I had it sorted.”
“Couldn’t read through the communication log,” he mutters. “Tried.”
“We had a glitch or some such.”
I hate lying to my own. But I’ve no choice in it, have I? I had to hide it so no one would see communication about the damn tribute.
