Two of the uninvited guests were tall with broad shoulders and short dark hair and the third was half a head shorter and much younger, with a soft baby face and nostril piercing on each side of his nose.
One of the taller men stepped forward, a smirk playing lazily on his face as he held out his hand toward me. He was clearly the oldest, with a sprinkle of gray at the temples, vibrant blue eyes, and a five-o’clock shadow. The pointer finger on the left hand he held out to me had a thick silver band on it.
“The name’s Tiernan.” His voice curled with a thick Irish accent that wasn’t watered down like Cillian’s or Rowen’s, and it came out sharp, dangerous, and striking like a cobra.
The skin on the back of my neck prickled. Behind me someone shifted, and I was careful not to glance toward the hallway. I suspected there were eyes on us. Watching. The vermin among our soldiers were getting more brazen, waiting with anticipation for an inevitable downfall. That wasn’t going to happen on my watch.
“I don’t give a rat’s arse what your name is.” My brain told me he was a threat, the blaring warning bell ringing in my head until it hurt.
“An American that uses arse. I’m impressed,” Tiernan drawled, giving me a cold once over that sent tingles of anxiety across my skin, making the hairs on my arm rise.
“I also don’t give a flying fuck about impressing anyone. I’m as Irish as the rest of you.” I crossed my arms, challenging the bastard in return. I wasn’t going to back down. It was hard growing up as a kid of an immigrant, especially when I was learning how to speak. My father hated how the people in New York spoke. “Who are you?”
Fionn made a disgruntled sound and gnashed his teeth loudly enough for me to hear. “Thesemenare Sloan’s cousins from Cork.” He glanced at me, and I recognized the subtle panic in his eyes that no one else would’ve caught. Fear. “And they’re here to cause trouble.”
“Now, now, lad, that’s very presumptuous of ye, ain’t it?” The man behind Tiernan laughed before he swept past Tiernan and came to a halt in front of me. He bowed dramatically and grabbed my hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss the back. “I’m Senan, Tiernan’s younger brother, and like young Fionn said, Sloan’s cousin.”
Unlike Tiernan who had similar eyes to Sloan, Senan had a hazel gaze and a thicker beard, but he still had the Killough nose and jaw.
Unease clawed at my stomach as I snapped my hand away from his hold. “Don’t touch me. I’m not yours to touch.” My words sliced through the room, anger charged air thickening between us despite the deadly calm way I’d said it. “You said your name was Semen?”
Fionn barked out a hard laugh, an odd but nice sound. He’d been loosening up since he and Daire finally sorted out their issues, and I liked this version of Fionn. We’d become good friends, which was something we needed right now.
Senan didn’t let my comment put a hitch in his mood. He winked. “Sen-in, but ye can call me whatever ye want, love.”
“I’d rather not call you anything.” I stormed past him to stand at Fionn’s side and eyed the third, much younger man carefully. He didn’t appear like he was going to give me his name and I didn’t particularly care for it, either. Every one of my senses was on high alert, ready for whatever havoc they were going to bring.
“That’s Kyran,” Fionn offered before he went back to scowling at the other two. “Why did you come? Let me guess, you heard about Sloan’s arrest?”
Senan placed a hand on his chest and gasped dramatically. “Sloan’s been arrested? That’s just terrible.”
My pulse raced at how easily he made a joke of it. Bastard. What kind of cousins were these men? Clearly not good ones. I hated that I’d never met them or even heard their names.
Tiernan rolled his eyes. “Of course we have, haven’t we? We help run the Irish division of the Company. You think we wouldn’t have heard that our boss has been put behind bars?”
I stiffened, unease worming through me as I took in these three strangers—cousins to Sloan but threats nonetheless. “Fionn and I are in charge of the Company while the boss is away. If you think you have a chance at taking over?—”
“Ye hear him?” Senan threw his head back and laughed. “He thinks we’re here for a wee mutiny.”
Tiernan sent him a glare. “Senan, stop being an eejit.” He straightened and slipped his hands in the pockets of his dress pants, and my spine tensed. A frown dug into his face, producing divot lines in his forehead. “We’re not here to cause trouble, only to help.”
“Bullshit,” Fionn drawled. His knuckles turned white. “You’ve been causing issues over in Ireland because you thinkUncle Sloan didn’t give you enough responsibility. You wanted to run the Company in Cork.”
Tiernan nodded. “It’s true. Eddie’s too old now. He’s sixty-seven. Someone younger should take over.”
I swallowed. I hadn’t realized there was so much about the Company I didn’t know. Sloan had mentioned we had an Irish division, but I wasn’t aware that it was run by blood family. I’d expected loyal men, like Rowen or Cillian, who’d proven their worth. Then again, Sloan never talked much about relations, Fionn being the exception. He’d told me about his father and his brother, but he never talked about his younger sister other than the fact that she’d moved to Ireland after Eoin, their brother, died. I knew he had distant cousins, like two younger ones who worked in the lower ranks of the Company, but these guys sounded closer in blood.
“Who’s Eddie?” I asked, feeling stupid.
All eyes turned to me.
A flush of humiliation spread up my neck and across my face. Fuck.
Fionn cleared his throat and leaned in to whisper. “Eddie is a cousin. Kind of. His father is the brother of Uncle Sloan’s grandfather, my great-grandfather. He’s run the Irish division for thirty years.”
Tiernan’s mouth curled into a smirk, eyes darkening, and shame spread through me. Was he searching for a weak spot? If he was, he’d found it. I’d fucked up.
“Sloan made his decision.” Fionn slid his hands in his pockets, a bored expression plastered on his face. “Eddie stays on as boss in Ireland.”
