Leaning up against the wall, I stretch my quads out before doing a couple of upper body twists to test my side. It aches, but the twinges might also be residual soreness from Keegan’s visit last night.
I take off like my arse is on fire, but thinking of last night spikes my scent and has me growling under my breath. Each step I pound out is like a toothpick to a lock; it takes a while, but eventually, the reason I’m in Ireland takes center stage in my thoughts again.
Slowing my pace, I take the last couple of blocks at a walk, so by the time I’m standing in front of where I’m staying, my breathing has regulated. Clearly, I look like I’ve been working out—my face is warm and I can feel sweat beading down my back.
A group of pock-faced lads—they’re not yet men, that’s for sure—set their sights on me, speeding up. The waves rolling off them aren’t threatening, as such, but I still brace for their presence and whatever it is they’re going to say.
One of them steps ahead of the others. An Alpha, newly designated. They crowd around him. “We got a tenner for you, love. Let’s get you to work.”
I hold my hand up, stopping him, trying desperately not to laugh at his audacity. It’s nearly impossible, though, and my mouth pops open as I struggle to keep my composure.
He snaps a hold around my arm, tugging me towards him. “Wait till we at least get out of sight, ya dirty desperate hoor, opening your mouth already.”
I drop straight into a defensive stance, my laughter vanishing as I stare into his eyes. “Take your hands off me.”
“Nah, don't think I'll be doing that.” He gets in my face and barks, “Move.”
His grip tightens, hard enough I’m going to have bruises, and he literally starts to drag me away. His buddies spread around us, walling me away from people walking past.
Someone approaches, and one of the boys peels off and deals with the person, quickly returning to the group.
What the fuck? Who lets a kid threaten them?
“Ya new, aren’t ya? Or ya wouldn’t have the stupid effing look on your face, trying to figure us out.”
I don’t reply, instead dropping my weight and ripping my hand from his grip. He clearly doesn’t expect it, so when I round back around and go to shove him in the chest, I get close enough to see the freckles on his face.
But that’s where I come to a complete stop.
Fingers intertwine with mine, and the gentleness in the touch is the complete opposite to the hard grip the kid had me in.
I look behind me at the same time the group of lads do.
Tynan’s eyes search mine, and I fall headfirst into what I see in them. His fingers tighten, drawing us closer, as he steps next to me.
Goddamn, of all the things he could have done, I didn’t expect him to step up next to me, as my equal. His stance is purposeful, and as obvious as an Alpha, but he stands next to me as opposed to standing in front of me. I’m so used to Alphas shielding in their urge to protect.
“Would you like to explain why my wife has your foul stench on her?” Tynan’s voice is the polar opposite of the warmth I saw in his eyes.
Tynan’s hand blurs. His movement is so fast, you’d miss it if you blinked, but it’s also so controlled and restrained, it’s like watching waves rolling in, and knowing they can rise to a tsunami.
His hand locks around the kid’s throat, tipping his chin up at an awkward angle. It’s a message confirming who is in control right now. And it’s not the smart-arse Alpha. That’s for sure.
Some of the other kids start making moves, as if they’re about to run.
“Don’t you fucking dare run because all that will do is make this that much worse. We’d hunt you down before we beat your arses. Now, apologize to Mrs. O’Connor before I beat your sorry arses.” With that, his hand falls away from around the Alpha’s throat to point at where he wants them to stand.
Most of them fall into line, not all. But young Alphas are dumb, full of bravado and little else.
The first kid in the line is not the one who grabbed me. From him, I get a hurried apology before he dips his head and lowers his eyes. He steps to the side so the next person can get on with his apology.
I half listen to the apologies coming one after the other, but I’m equally distracted by the showdown still going on. The atmosphere shifts and a couple of the older Alphas are sizing Tynan up, ignoring the fact he’s stronger than either of them, and clearly ignoring the name he dropped.
Tynan’s hand flicks up and stops the kid currently mumbling his apology before we all turn to give our full attention to the source of the rising escalation.
Their stench of bravado is offensive, and I can’t help but sneeze, making Tynan laugh under his breath.
He waits a moment, dragging it out to make everyone feel uncomfortable but also giving them a chance to go if they still want to change their minds.
