Bratva Beast: A Dark Romance

I raised an eyebrow at her. “This is kind of sad, you know. You’re a grown-ass woman.”

“I’m aware.” She tried to climb me like a pole. “Give me that phone. God, you’re big, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Plenty of times.” I checked the screen.

Why u wanna know?? Maguire said.

Fiona finally snatched it away then paced back and forth before typing. Uncle Quinn wants 2 know. Idk Cormac asked him too. I don’t ask questions. She hit send.

“Who’s Uncle Quinn?”

She didn’t look at me. “My dad. I figure he can’t deny it.”

I felt a little stab in my gut. The girl was getting jaded. I didn’t know if I liked it or wanted to preserve whatever shred of innocence she had left.

All right, boy, you tell Quinn he can come talk to me then.

“He’s not buying it.” Fiona glared at the phone. “Why can’t this be easy?”

“Give it to me.” I grabbed it from her. She tried to grab it back, but I held up over my face and typed back.

He’s here with me right now. Getting kinda annoyed. Can u just tell me please so I can shut him up?

I hit send and Fiona stared up at me with big eyes.

“You know we don’t know where Tully is right now?” she asked, frowning deeply. “I just realized he could be with Uncle Maguire.”

“Could be, but again, it’s a risk we’ve got to take.” The phone vibrated and I handed it over to Fiona before she could attack me again.

She stared at the phone greedily then burst out laughing. She turned the screen to me.

Ten boys plus me and Quinn. He should know this shit. Tell him I’m sick of repeating myself.

“Eleven then,” I said, nodding at her sharply. “Since one of them’s at the bottom of the Schuylkill.”

She grimaced and turned her back. I cursed to myself softly—what the hell was wrong with me? I didn’t know how to keep my fat mouth shut sometimes.

“I didn’t mean to—”

She waved me off. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“You just lost your father. You’re not fine.” I was being insensitive. I could do that sometimes. “Come here.”

She hesitated, but walked into my arms. I hugged her tight then kissed her neck, her lips, tasted the flood of honey and pleasure, like a kick in my guts. I touched her cheek softly with my fingertips then took the phone and tossed it onto the couch.

She stood up on her toes and kissed my chin.

“We can deal with all that tomorrow. Tonight, I’m going to take care of you.”

“How?”

“First, I’m going to feed you. When was the last time you ate?”

She hesitated. “Yesterday.”

“Food first. Then I’ll get you something to drink. Champagne, whatever. Then when you’ve had a glass, and you’re starting to feel better, I’ll bring you into my room and explore all the little details I haven’t had a chance to enjoy yet.”

“Little details?” Her voice was husky with excitement.

“That little curve of your lip. The bottoms of your breasts. The skin along your calf. The folds of your pussy, every little detail. I want to make you forget, at least for a few hours. Can you let me do that, princess?”

“You can try. I won’t stop you.”

“Good. Food first. Then distraction.”

I kissed her, falling into that mouth, her lips and tongue. She pressed herself hard against me and I put my hands on her hips and cupped her ass, and was reminded of why I was doing all this to start with.

I wanted her, needed her bad. Wanted to spend my life giving her whatever she needed.

Whatever whim, whatever pleasure. I wanted to give her everything.

First, I had to save her brother.

And then I’d save her.

19

Fiona

It felt like my world was crumbling down around me, and for the first time in my life, I was free.

A strange contradiction warred inside of me.

I kept hearing the gunshot blast that ended my father—and kept seeing the fear in his eyes as Mack stood there with a gun pointed at his face.

The same fear that I felt all those nights. The same fear that drove Connor to shaking, sobbing tears.

The fear he deserved.

But he was still my father. Whenever I thought the worst of it was over, I suddenly remembered something good he did when I was a little kid—playing with me on the swings, making me laugh so hard I’d cry, chasing Connor around the block, throwing me into the pool, cuddling with me on the couch—and it’d be hard to feel happy about him being gone.

Everything I did was a give and a take. I was being torn in half by a tug-of-war, an invisible emotional breakdown the center.

I wanted to explain to Mack but whenever I came up with the words, they felt inadequate. Like they weren’t enough to express the strange tearing that kept happening throughout the day.