Judge (Shady Valley Henchmen 1)

“What’s this?” I asked, following everyone as they casually moved outside.

“A lesson,” Slash said cryptically, giving me an indifferent shrug.

“A lesson in what?” I asked.

“The importance of knowing all the players in town,” Slash said as the SUV pulled to a stop, the doors flew open, and the Murphy brothers were making a beeline for me.

I didn’t even get a chance to ask questions before Conor, a guy I used to at least casually know, started wailing on me.

I’m not too proud to admit that I’d gotten my ass handed to me more than a few times in my life. Sometimes, the odds just weren’t in your favor.

Especially if you were outnumbered.

Sometimes, you just got your ass stomped.

But seeing as my club didn’t step in to help me, I figured I didn’t have to worry about death from the Murphy family, so I just protected myself as best I could and took it.

Because, apparently, I had a lesson to learn.

From the fucking Irish mob.

What? I had no idea. Aside from the trip to the bar that first night, I hadn’t really even been in town. I took a trip out of town with Sway to hit some stores to get some basic life shit I needed now that I was out.

Otherwise, I’d been busting my ass doing the grunt work around the clubhouse.

That included washing and polishing all the bikes, scrubbing all the bedrooms, and relocating an aggressive raccoon family from the third floor.

I had no fucking idea what I’d done to piss off the Murphys.

Unless this was just some shit they did now. Beat the hell out of new players in town, so they knew who not to fuck with?

I had no idea.

All I knew was that when they were done, I was tasting blood, one of my eyes was swollen half shut, and there was a sharp pain in my side that said at least one rib was mildly bruised.

It was Slash who held out a hand to help me back onto my feet after.

Then there they were. The Murphy brothers. An intimidating sight on most days, but maybe especially so with my blood on them and genuine anger in their eyes.

So… not just a newcomer ritual, then.

I’d fucked up.

I just had no idea how.

I racked my brain, trying to remember if I’d somehow fucked any of them over before I’d gone inside, if the organization I’d worked for had thrown me under the bus instead of taking the heat themselves.

But we hadn’t been involved with the Irish right then. We were too busy dealing with the incoming Russians.

“That was for Dell,” Cillian, the oldest, declared as he wiped some of my blood off his knuckles.

Dell?

“Your baby sister?” I asked, brows scrunching. “What happened to her?”

“You, motherfucker, you happened to her,” Conor hissed.

Me?

I didn’t really have any concrete memories of Dell Murphy. But I remembered her being little.

Then again, though, it had been four years.

Long enough for a girl to become a woman.

One with the Murphy blonde hair and blue eyes.

“Oh, fuck,” I hissed as it all hit me at once. “Fucking hell,” I added, looking over at the guys, a silent accusation in my gaze.

How could you let me fuck an Irish mafia princess?

But I saw nothing in their faces.

“I had no fucking idea,” I admitted, looking back at the Murphy brothers. “Obviously, if I did, I never… it never… I know she’s off-limits,” I said.

“Yeah, sure,” Conor scoffed.

“On my life,” I said, shaking my head. “I didn’t know. In my head, I picture Dell as a kid,” I admitted. “The fuck you let her grow up for?” I asked.

“Well, we tried to stunt her growth with coffee and energy drinks,” Rian said, always the more laid-back jokester of all the brothers. “It didn’t take.”

“Regardless of what you did or didn’t realize,” Cillian interjected, “Dell always has been and always will be off-fucking-limits,” he told me.

“And if you so much as look her way again, you won’t get off this easy,” Conor warned.

I wouldn’t call it easy.

But I also knew Conor’s reputation. And he wouldn’t blink an eye at taking someone out for looking at someone in his family sideways.

“I got it,” I assured him.

“Slash,” Cillian said, giving him a hard look. “I expect all future members of your crew to know that my sister is off-limits.”

To that, Slash gave a noncommittal shrug.

But it was enough to appease the brothers who turned and made it back to their SUV.

I waited until they were out of sight to turn to my brothers.

“What the fuck?” I snapped, anger bubbling up and pouring out.

“It’s not my job to prevent my men from fucking up in their personal lives,” Slash said, shrugging, and moving back into the clubhouse.

“We thought you knew who it was,” Crow explained. “And because of that, Slash thought you earned the ass-kicking.”