When Ronin whistles from across the room, Keegan leans down, enveloping me in his warmth and scent, telling me to wait here.
I watch him leave, and check on Rafferty, who’s talking to one of Ronin’s sisters in the corner, Tynan watching over him. And me. He’s been splitting his attention between us, and I wait until he’s checking on me again before indicating I’m going to the bathroom.
His intimate distance stings like gnats biting my skin. It’s hard to bitch about it, though, when I was the one insistent that we only had one day. We both know the ring on my finger is off the first chance I get. Tynan is after the commitment, the future, not just the symbolism.
Collecting empty plates on my way, I use them as a way to venture through the house. I don’t need an excuse, apparently, since I’m family and welcome, according to Jeanie. The look from Paddy told a different story. He’s accepting, but I suspect he’s also aware I’m not wholly committed to forever and ever with his only son. I think he should insist I tread carefully; it sits a lot better for me keeping this pack at arm’s length. Lessens the inevitable fallout. And it’s coming. You can literally feel the waves of discontent and simmering resentment coming from some people here.
Ronin’s suggestion that he’s aware of what’s happening behind his back, and his father’s, isn’t really a surprise. I want to know why they haven’t acted on it. Perhaps they’re simply waiting until the antagonists make a move. It’s not an unusual way of exposing all your enemies in one sweep, but it seems out of character. Then again, that’s me painting all people involved in the Mafia with the same brush.
I move to where Walsh stands with Black, Patrick, and the Fanning brothers—Sean and James.
As I anticipated, Walsh is the spokesperson, yet again. “You probably should have mentioned ya connection to the O’Connors, Tally.”
He might be an Alpha, but compared to the O’Connors, his dominance is watered down. Even if he barked in my face, I could easily avoid obeying his command.
“I didn’t see the reason. And it’s the same reasoning I shared with you about that other matter after the event a while back,” I answer, turning to face the others. “Hello, Black, Patrick, Sean and James. Or should I call you Mr. Black, Mr. Doyle, and Mr. Fanning and Mr. Fanning?” I say their names carefully. Not for me, but for the small transmitter I’m wearing.
They each acknowledge me but don’t answer my question, so I keep talking. “I’ve made it very clear since the second I started working for you that I keep my mouth shut. I’m not involved in what they do. They don’t have a lot of interest in what I do, besides what time I finish.”
Walsh wears his anger like a sunburn. Even the tips of his ears redden. The others are better at masking their emotions, though they mirror each other in their aloofness.
Turning to Walsh, I keep my tone softer. “There was no intention of playing you, Walsh.”Using you, on the other hand, most certainly. Actually, I lied, every moment we’ve been together has been intentional.
I kiss arse like a seasoned professional. Because I am. “One thing I know, and no offense, but Alphas lose interest very quickly. Invariably, something better always comes along, which is why I work as hard as I do. My independence is important.”
Patrick slides his hand into his pocket, drawing the conversation to him. “There’s a difference between being courted and wearing that ring. You get that, don’t you?”
“I do, Patrick. But I also know a ring means different things to different people. You play chess?”
He doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t need to. My question isn’t actually aimed at Patrick. I want Black’s attention, because I saw him playing on his phone at the bar one night and madea passing comment about it because it was odd. He ignored me then, but he doesn’t this time. I have his attention.
“Any piece, or person, except the king can be sacrificed. It’s happened before, it will happen until time runs out. Depending on the situation, of course.”
Sean, the older Fanning brother, stares me down in his confusion. He’s nothing more than a wasp, a distraction. Unlike Black, who is the most dominant and most scheming. Regardless, they’re all involved in things they shouldn’t be, including playing games behind Ronin’s back.
My need for justice might have started years ago, but it seems my husbands are under my skin more than I figured. Staring down at these four men, my mission hasn't changed but the reasons for it seem to have gained more reason and momentum.
I drop my gaze. I was being borderline aggressive in my targeted approach, but as I suspected, only Black takes note. For the others listening, my chess-based innuendo passes over their head.
They don’t say a word or react. They wait for Black’s lead as to how they should respond. Which, again, confirms his role as the mastermind. He rarely speaks, only assesses, but today, not only does he talk, he’s forthright with an accusation I already suspected would be made toward me. “Should I presume you set the fire at The Shamrock, then?”
“You can presume all you like, but I had nothing to do with it.” My answer is probably too forthright for an Omega, but I’m eager to finish up and go.
“Perhaps you were sharing stories you’d overheard with your pack, then?” His voice drops low as his dominance starts to show itself.
I shake my head, maintaining a steady look at him but not at him in the eyes. And then I purposely shrink, making myself smaller, my voice softer as I add a little more vulnerability tomy presence. “Again, Black, what happens between one group of people and another is not my business. I live to serve. Besides, if you thought I was responsible, you would have already called me in to have a wee chat. Or got the police involved.”
In much the same way I can sense Sean’s lack of intelligence and his vindictive nature, I’m frighteningly aware of Keegan’s presence the moment he enters the room. The power of his presence is like a grounding touch. It’s exquisite, like a gentle buzz that dances over my skin. I don’t turn around when he comes in, but I do pretend, as my attempt to downplay the depth of our bond, to startle when his hand cups my butt. Inappropriately low, given the crowd, but it is Keegan we’re talking about.
Walsh is the first to jump to attention, and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing at how quickly he starts mooching up to Keegan. Walsh’s hand shoots out to shake Keegan’s as he does an overcompensated greeting, drawing him into their circle. Doing everything you shouldn’t do if you’re trying to hide the fact we weren’t just talking shit about me and the O’Connors.
“You should sack my wife, Walsh,” Keegan says. His voice ripples with dominance, making him growl out Walsh’s name, although he delivers obvious the threat with a smile.
Keegan’s arm snakes around my waist, and he tugs me to where he considers a safe distance is. “How’s business, boys? Caught any criminals recently?”
Black is like a chameleon, but I knew that already. From the sanctuary of Keegan’s side, I watch him transform from foe to something else—not friend, more begrudging employee.
“We’re working hard, keeping the community safe.” Black laughs, as he, too, reaches to shake Keegan’s hand. “Congratulations. I had no idea Tally was yours.”
