If Dad was gone, and I was trapped here, who knew how long she would last?
Kaelen scratched his ear. “Leave it, Aidan. Go keep an eye on The Ruby Slipper. With the Sox in the playoffs, the place is going to be a madhouse tonight, and I don’t trust Rossi not to pull something. He’s hotheaded enough to do something stupid.”
“On it,” Aidan said as he left.
Quiet minutes ticked by, neither of us saying anything. Kaelen dropped to a knee, moving the makeshift ice pack aside to assess my face. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see what was in his.
Strong fingers gripped my chin, angling my head. The touch drew a whine from me and I tried to muffle the inappropriate sound.
A quiet groan slipped past his lips. Two hands bracketed my hips, pulling me upright with him as he stood. Like most omegas, I was tiny, but he dwarfed me unlike other alphas I’d been around. All six-plus feet of him.
He placed the now half-melted icy cloth on his desk, fiddling with one of the drawers before handing me two small pills.
“What is it?” I asked, my heart plummeting into my stomach.
I didn’t want to lose my senses.
“Ibuprofen,” he mumbled, scratching a hand through his thick beard. “To help with the swelling and pain.”
“Oh,” I whispered, taking the pills dry.
His mouth fell open as he ran a hand through his auburn hair, careful not to muss the bun tied at the back of his head.
“What kind of heathen does that?”
“What?” I asked.
“Take pills without water.”
I shrugged. I’d always been able to do that. It wasn’t that odd. After the brief exchange, another uneasy silence settled between us. I shuffled, scanning the books that lined the shelves behind his desk, curious about what he read.
Not fantasy, that was for certain.
The tension in his body eased as he leaned into his desk, his eyes roaming over me, assessing for weak points.
I couldn’t stand it anymore.
At least back home, I knew what to expect.
Based on what my dad had said, Kaelen Finnegan wasn’t a mere businessman. And the gun in his pants hinted at something far more ominous.
Something that terrified me.
“What do you mean it’s not safe for me? How am I safer here than back at home?”
Based on the fury flaring in his beautiful eyes, I pissed off what appeared to be the head of the Irish mafia. I instantly regretted my big mouth, wishing I could pluck the words from the air and choke them back down.
His knuckles turned white as his nails dug into the supple wood, scratching the surface.
“Here, you won’t get beaten.”
Blood receded from my fingertips, leaving them cold. My omega curled up like a contented cat in a sunspot at the implications of the alpha’s words. His tongue swept along the points of his teeth as he rocked forward, seeming to lose a battle with himself.
A callused palm slid along my smooth face, the touch threatening to burn me from the inside out. His thumb feathered over my lips, barely brushing them before resting on my cheek and trapping me in his hold.
He spoke again, not giving me a chance to say anything. The delicate Irish lilt to his commanding voice was sweeter than melted chocolate, and dangerously decadent. If I weren’t careful, I would become addicted to him.
“If you went home, what do you think your father would do? Leave you alone? His plan with me didn’t work. Who’s to say he wouldn’t try to sell you off to the Russians or the Italians? Trust me, sweetheart, I may be the most terrifying man in Boston, but the Irish revere their women. I can’t say the same for the Bratva or Casa Nostra. Do you want to take your chances?”
