Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 123212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
“Shut up!”
“All the other women know,” Morgan pressed. “Bronagh, Aideen, Branna, and Keela. They’ve all been directly involved with the ’brothers’ past. Everyone but you … until now, that is.”
I covered my face with my hands and began to rock back and forth, trying to calm myself down.
“Morgan, listen to yourself. This doesn’t sound like real life.”
“To you it doesn’t because you weren’t born and raised in it, but this is the only life I’ve known, and I hate it.”
I dropped my hands but couldn’t stop them from trembling.
“You hate it?”
“More than anything.” Morgan nodded. “Once I leave this country, I’m going home and starting fresh. No more drugs, weapons … no more anything illegal. I want a normal life, and I’m going to have one even if it kills me.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I remained quiet.
“Growing up—” he then sighed “—I hung out with the twins a lot, but mostly I’d keep to myself. My older brother, Trent, loved the lifestyle, the drugs, the violence, the women. He lapped that shit up, and he was gunning to take over for Marco one day since our uncle had no kids of his own.”
Morgan’s eyes turned dark.
“But he never got the chance because your precious Slaters killed him and my uncle.”
“They couldn’t have,” I stressed. “Those men … they wouldn’t take someone’s life.”
Morgan humourlessly laughed.
“Kane has killed more than a few people, angel. Did you think he got his scars from a steady line of work?”
My lower lip trembled. “Stop it.”
“Don’t you want to know the truth?”
I did. God help me, but I did.
“Yes,” I answered quietly.
“Look.” Morgan frowned. “I don’t want to hurt you, so I’ll summarise everything you need to know instead of making a story out of it, okay?”
I could only nod my head in response.
“I know Damien told you his parents died in a car accident, but they didn’t. My uncle killed them both because they were traitors to our organisation. Out of all the brothers, Damien took their death the hardest. Trent was an asshole who loved to kick people when they were down, so he said some fucked-up shit to Damien about their parents deserving their faith, and a fight took place.”
I gripped the arms of the chair I sat on.
“Trent had a gun he stole from our uncle, but it changed hands and ended up in Damien’s. He shot Trent, and for a long time, the Slaters thought that Damien had murdered my brother. My uncle, who was a twisted son of a bitch, decided to keep Trent’s living status a secret from the brothers because they offered to pay off a life debt for what Damien had done since the punishment would have been Damien’s life for Trent’s.”
I shrunk lower into the chair.
“Each of the brothers has their own skillset that my uncle capitalised on. Dominic became his champion fighter in the underground when he was only fifteen. Ryder became his drug and weapons mule, Kane became his enforcer, and Alec became his prostitute. For a few years, they worked and worked hard. They had paid back the life debt and then some when they decided they wanted out. They came here for one last job, liked the place, and decided to settle.”
I had always wondered what brought the brothers to Ireland, and now that I knew, I’d give anything to be in the dark once again.
“Now, these men made my uncle a lot of money, so when they decided that they were done working for him, you can imagine how that displeased him. He came to Ireland to … talk the brothers into staying. That’s where you come into the story.”
I blanched. “Me?”
“Yes, Alannah, you.”
“I’ve never been involved with—”
“You were unconscious at the time, so you wouldn’t remember.”
I widened my eyes. “What?”
“I came to Ireland with my brother, uncle, and some of our men, but hurting people was never my scene. I hated that shit, to be honest. I watched everything from the shadows of Darkness, and after my uncle had you, Damien, and Bronagh at his mercy, I left the club. It’s a damn good thing I did because my brother died that night at the hands of the Slaters, and if I stayed, I would have, too.”
“Hold on,” I said, shaking my head. “How can you be sure I was there?”
“Because I was with Trent when you walked outside the nightclub and sat down on the kerb,” Morgan answered. “We were told to get you as leverage in case Damien and Bronagh weren’t enough to sway the brothers into keeping their jobs, and then you just walked out of the club like you were gift wrapped for us. It was too easy. Trent punched you in the back of your head, and boom, you were out like a light.”