I’m not stupid or brash, but I follow my gut, always. Ultimately, this guy took out three guys for beating me. He made Avery cut her shit out. He’s made his decision not to hate me, and then he followed through with it. How can I not offer him the same loyalty? My gut tells me he’s worth saving, and I’m quickly discovering we’re cut from the same cloth.
“Are you going to take over the family business?” I say, curious.
He glares down at me. “I’d rather fucking die. Iwilldie when my grandfather figures out I won’t change my mind. I’ve made peace with that.”
He can’t die, I won’t let him. I have a fairly reckless plan and a prayer that it will work. “Do you trust me, Arbour?” I wipe my sweaty palms down my legs and meet his eyes. Something is inching back into his baby blues, and I never want to see it leave again.
“Enough to be standing here,” he rasps back.
“Then keep your mouth shut, and I’ll keep you alive. I mean it. Not a single word.”
* * *
Diarmuid is O’Cronin through and through.
Dark, shaggy hair falls over his green eyes as he pulls the helmet off his head. His face splits into a grin when he spots me, and he waves me over to crush my body into a hug, his legs still straddling the bike. When he speaks, it’s with a delightful Irish accent that has prevailed even though as the youngest child, he’d been born in the States.
“Jesus, Mary, and fuckin’ Joseph, you’re growin’ up, kid!” I tug away from his arms and give him a small smile. His fingers press down on the perfect circle scar I have on my shoulder, like he always does. Even fully clothed, drunk, and blind, he can find it. It is his reminder and his penance.
From the time he shot me.
The bastard.
I digress. He hands me a thick envelope, and I tuck it into the waistband of my shorts, flipping the sweater over it and concealing it perfectly. He’s still grinning like an idiot when Harley takes a step forward and silently demands his attention. The grin dries up, and he pushes me away from his body enough to swing his leg over and perch on the bike’s seat. He digs around in his pocket and lights up a cigarette. I wrinkle my nose and step back until my arm brushes Harley’s again.
“You’re the fuckin’ image of Iris. It’s disturbing to see her standing there as a boy. There any of your Da in you at all,buachaill beag?” He takes a long drag and then blows the smoke directly up in the air, the wind catching it and letting it dance away into nothing.
Harley doesn’t say a word, he just folds his arms across his chest and stares at his uncle.
Diarmuid looks back at me and says, “Can you give us a minute, kid? I need to talk some business. Family business.”
I meet his eye and slowly shake my head. “I’m afraid not. It’s come to my attention just how sought-after Arbour is.” He quirks an eyebrow at me, and I grin, forcing the bravado I don’t feel into it. “I’m a fickle sort of girl. It brings me great joy to be able to keep Harley from those who want him. I think I’ll keep him.”
Diarmuid blanches for a second, and then tips his head back and roars with laughter. He rubs his hands together with a vicious glint to his eye. “You bring my little nephew back to Mounts Bay and our mutual friend gets an eyeful of him? Blood and pain, little girl. Blood and pain.”
I don’t need to be reminded of that at all, and I certainly don’t need Harley hearing it. I reach into my bra and pull out the little velvet bag. Diarmuid’s eyes catch on it, and I hold it out to him. When he lets the little blood diamond fall onto his palm, he sucks in a breath. “It’s a thing of beauty, this. You know what it is,buachaill beag?” He waits until Harley finally shakes his head. “It’s a million dollars and a priceless fuckin’ favor.”
“Tell him I’m buying Harley’s life with it, too. The envelope alone isn’t worth that, and he well knows it. Tell him I’ve picked my first inductee, and when he has questions, he can call me.”
Diarmuid sobers and looks down his nose at me. “My Da will come for you both. He’ll kill him for standing here and listening in on this conversation alone.”
I take a deep breath. I know the cliff I’m about to go over, and it’s a scary thing to do. Harley will know more than I’d ever wanted anyone outside of Mounts Bay to know. I need this conversation over. Now. “Liam O’Cronin can’t do shit to me. He knows it, I know it, and you should know it too.”
Diarmuid grins at me again and tucks the diamond into his jeans. “Oh, I know it. I’m just making sure my little nephew knows it too. He looks a little green around the gills, is all.” He steps forward and slaps Harley’s shoulder. “I came here to have a little heart-to-heart with you about decisions you need to make, but I see you’ve already made them. It all comes down to this: if you don’t kill the old man someday for what he did to your Ma and Da, then I will. And if I don’t succeed, then your little Wolf here will do it for us both. She’s got one hell of a steady hand.”
He swoops down and smacks a kiss onto my cheek. As he climbs on his bike and starts the engine, he calls out to us one last time. “Call me when your tits fill in, kid, and I’ll show you how real men fuck.”
I roll my eyes and watch his taillights until they disappear completely. Then I turn and start to make my way back up to the dorms without looking to see if Harley is following. He’s going to rat me out to his friends. He’s going to hate me for interfering with his family’s business. There’s a hundred different things he’s going to do.
I didn’t bet on him pushing me through my bedroom door and then kissing me.
It’s raw and dark and it’s fucking perfect. He’s not gentle about it at all. He pushes and sucks at my lips, but it’s nothing like the one Joey had forced on me. I moan when his tongue touches mine and take fistfuls of his shirt to pull his body into mine. His hands tangle in my hair and pulls until he’s got the perfect angle to deepen our kiss and steal my breath away. I feel it all the way down to my toes.
This is how my first kiss should have been.
I break away from him as my mind spins, and I try to catch up with where he’s at. He shuts his eyes and rests his forehead against mine. It’s a tender moment, more intimate than even his kiss.
“Are you a member of a gang?” he croaks, and I shake my head. “Did you just tell him you recruited me to your friend’s gang?” I shake my head again. I pull away so I can catch my breath because I can’t breathe in his arms. When he touches me, I don’t want oxygen. I just want to consume him.
