Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 105065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
I close my eyes and get a grip before taking the plate out and passing them around. The guys take them eagerly and chow down while I take the last one and head for Lachlan. I pause halfway and wiggle it in his direction in question.
“Come here to me,” he says.
I take a step closer, and he pries the plate from my hands and sets it on the table beside him. Then he reaches up and grabs me around the waist and tugs me straight into his lap. I can smell the whiskey on his breath, along with the scent that’s uniquely his. How he can still smell good after bleeding all over the place and taking part in a gun fight, I’ll never know.
“Do we need to talk about tonight?” he asks.
Despite his half-drunken state, he’s got a clear enough head to initiate this conversation. His expression is serious, appraising, and I have no doubts he’ll remember every word I say come tomorrow. I stare down at my heels and kick them off, wiggling my toes as I think about my answer. Logic tells me there’s only one thing I can really say. I know what Lachlan’s capable of. I knew it before I ever got involved with all of this. I’m not going to change that, and neither is anything I say. So for my self-preservation, and to build trust, I tell him the only thing I can.
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Crow. What happened tonight?”
He grips me by the chin and gives me a drunken lopsided grin. “Ye’re a clever girl, Mack. I like that about you.”
“Yeah, well can’t say I’m surprised,” I mutter. “Most of the chicks you bang probably don’t have two brain cells to rub together. You like to get in and out, am I right?”
A dark look passes over his face and the arm that’s wrapped around my waist pulls me a little tighter. “Ye know this changes things, butterfly.”
I look away, knowing he’s right. I saw something tonight that I wasn’t supposed to. Something that makes Lachlan vulnerable. And there’s a whole philosophy about that with organized crime syndicates. The philosophy is that the vulnerability always disappears.
“What do you want me to say, Lach?”
“I need to know I can trust ye, sweetheart. That’s all.”
There’s something different in his voice. More urgent. He doesn’t want to have to hurt me. I look into his eyes and steel myself. Lying shouldn’t be a problem for me. I’m here for Talia. That’s the only reason.
But it’s more complicated than that and it shouldn’t be. I’m getting too wrapped up in this. Lachlan is nobody to me. It shouldn’t matter if I betray his trust. He means nothing to me, and he’d do the same to me in a heartbeat if necessary. So why can’t I just lie and tell him that yes, he can trust me?
I change the subject instead.
“They wanted me to come with them tonight.”
Lachlan looks at me and shakes his head, like that wasn’t even a possibility.
“That’d never happen, Mack.”
“But they deal in women, right?” I press. “What would they have done with me?”
His hand moves up my back and rubs soft circles against my dress. A gesture of comfort. He thinks I’m asking because I’m scared. I’ll let him think that. But a part of me is wondering if something like this happened with Tal.
“This particular gang deals in whatever they can get their greedy hands on and turn a profit,” he says. “They don’t care what it is. They aren’t sanctioned or governed like we are. There are no rules with this lot.”
He sighs and his fingers roam over my arms.
“Ye’re from here, so you understand,” he says. “How territories are divided. Correct?”
“Yes,” I answer.
“Ye’re from Southie. Ye’re proud of that. Ye take ownership of it. It’s the same for us, sweetheart. With our territories and our women.”
“I know,” I whisper.
“Ye didn’t like what you saw tonight,” he goes on. “But it was necessary, Mack. Ye need to understand that. If ye don’t put guys like that down, do ye know what they do?”
I know. I know perfectly well. It was just the shock of it, really. But Lachlan takes my silence for ignorance and explains anyway.
“They come back with more guys. Any guys they can find. These lads aren’t like us. They don’t care about women or children or who gets in their way, really. They saw your face. And that puts ye at risk.”
I blink up at him, curious about what he’s saying. Surely he doesn’t mean he killed that guy for me.
“I told ye that ye’re under my protection,” he says. “I won’t risk your life, or my brothers either, Mack. Do ye understand?”
I nod and then watch him carefully as I ask my next question.
“Have they ever taken one of the girls before?”
“No.” His voice leaves no question about it. “Everybody knows ye don’t touch our women. Or the Italians, or even the Russians for that matter. Those fuckwits are the only ones dumb enough to think they can pull it off and they’ve just waged a war because of it. They’ll all be dead soon enough.”
I hold up my hands and cringe. “I don’t want to know the details.”
“Ye won’t.” He closes his eyes and his head lolls to the side in exhaustion. “Ye know too much already.”
I think about getting up, but Lachlan tightens his grip on me. He slips off into oblivion, and I know this is an opportunity for me to search his house. But I’m so tired. Physically and mentally drained. And he’s warm and I’m kind of comfortable where I’m at. I know I shouldn’t. But I curl up and rest my head against his chest, letting sleep take me away too.
***
When I wake up the next morning, I’m alone in the recliner. The shower is running down the hall, and I know Lachlan isn’t too far away.
I stumble into the kitchen and nearly have a frigging heart attack when I find Ronan sitting there. He’s at the table, reading from the paper without a single care in the world. As though nothing even happened last night, and this is just another normal morning for him. Who am I kidding? It probably is.