Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
He softens at that. “That’s a good attitude.”
“Fuck you, Chim.” I grin and nudge him with my elbow. “Come on. I just want to meet the lad before I pledge my stinking worthless life to him, alright?”
“Alright,” he agrees but doesn’t look happy about it. “I’ll set it up.”
“Thanks.” I take a deep breath and blow it out. That’s a relief. I can feel a terror deep inside my chest at the idea of kissing a man I’ve never met before, and it’s taking all my willpower to hold it at bay. “Ah, hell. What do you know about Jayson Costa, anyway?”
“He’s not so bad for an American gangster.” He starts walking, hands behind his back. I keep pace, trying to focus on our conversation, but the casino’s more than a little distracting. The place is a nightmare for my short attention span. I want to bounce around like a squirrel on meth and it’s taking all my focus to stay still.
“Elaborate, please.”
“I don’t really know too many concrete details. From what I heard, he cares about his soldiers, but he’s also a vicious killer. Fought on the front lines a few times himself. We got close to hitting him once, but he shot two of our best assassins before they could finish him off. He’ll be good to you, Fallie, that’s part of the deal. No abusive shit. No knocking you around. We have some systems in place. You’ll video chat with me at least once every few days to make sure.”
“Lovely,” I say. “You’re looking out for me, you really are. But here’s the thing. You’ll be back home in Ireland, and I’ll be here in America. How are you gonna make sure he’s not kicking me down the steps?”
“For one, I’m pretty sure you’ll cut his dick off if he tried it.”
I gesture assent. “Obviously, but I’m a relatively small woman, and he can do other things to me.”
“We have people in the States I can call on. But even if Jayson’s an asshole, his older brother Adler’s the one in charge, and I trust the man. He’s been nothing but up front and fair since we opened negotiations. They’ll treat you well.”
“Great. I can rely on your mysterious goons and an American Don to make sure my husband’s not a raging dickhead.”
Rian takes my arm and holds it tightly. He stares at me, eyes narrowed. “Fallie, I mean this. I won’t let him hurt you. Especially not if you really want to make it work. If you’re serious about it. Giving it a real try will go a long way with these people.”
I let out a long breath and shrug him off. “I’m serious about it. What else have I got to do?”
“That’s one way of thinking about it.”
“Set the meeting, alright, Chim? Set it soon, before the wedding.”
“I’ll get it done.”
He starts walking. I watch him go before striding off to the closest slot machine and park my ass down. If I’m going to get sold off to some stranger soon, I may as well keep my mind off it with some gambling.
This feels like a betrayal of Papa, like a betrayal of everything I’m supposed to believe in, but the thought of Quinnie or some other Grady girl going through this instead keeps my chin up.
At the very least, even if this Jayson guy’s some raging bastard, at least I can say I saved another girl from this damn fate.
Chapter 4
Fallon
The boardwalk in November is blustery and gray. The Atlantic rolls along sucking at the sand, the sky covered over by thick clouds. The boards are slick from a recent freezing rain, and no matter how tightly I pull my jacket, I can feel the chill in my bones. Just like back home. I wonder if I’ll ever see the place again, if I’ll get to sit on a stoop with my cousins watching the boys walk past on the sidewalk, if I’ll drink tea with the aunts and listen to the uncles watching footy in the other room, if I’ll go to the pub and have a couple ciders and do some truly awful karaoke with the girls.
There’s so much I’m losing by coming out here. It’s a life, a family. Everything I know. My little flat with the bookshelves and the bay window down the block from Rian’s spot. My plants, taken in by Aunty Bee. The sound of my city, the language of my people. Well, they speak English here, but it’s not proper.
“He should be right up here.” Rian walks by my side. Padraig and Darragh lurk behind like always, our two well-armed shadows. Ahead, figures are clustered near the railing. Marshy grass blows along the dunes, waving in the bitter wind. “Know what you’re going to say?”
I shake my head and brush my curly red hair from my face. “I’ve got some ideas,” I say, but that’s not true—I have no clue what I’ll say to my future husband, the man who had my Papa murdered, the man who ruined the lives of so many people in my family. What’s there to tell him? Hey, ready to get hitched to your mortal enemy? It feels so absurd, this meeting, but I need it more desperately than I’m willing to admit to Rian.