Nolan (Dangerous Doms 3)

Bloody hell.

Father Finn sits beside Keenan. When Sheena sees his priestly garb, her eyes flash at Keenan.

“You told me you wouldn’t!” she shouts, pointing an irate finger at him. I yank her back to me. I’m angry as well, but I can’t let her speak to him that way. I’ve broken the bones of men for less than that.

“Sheena.” She flinches at the sharp sound of my voice. I wrap my fingers around her accusatory hand and bring it down.

“That’s enough. You won’t speak to the Chief that way. You watch that smart mouth or I’ll punish you right here, right now, with all of them watching.”

And I will. I’m fully prepared. She needs to know she can’t do this, and they need to know I won’t let her. Goddamn this woman. I’ve got to get her under control, and now, before this spirals out. I can already see her splayed across Keenan’s desk, while I give her a proper belting.

The other men are watching, all their eyes on the two of us. Even though I don’t blame her and want to deck Keenan myself, I take her jaw in my hand and force her eyes back to mine.

“Sit. Do not speak unless spoken to.” I tug her hand and make her sit beside me. She still seethes but at least she obeys.

Keenan’s still as she watches the two of us with narrowed eyes.

“Are you done?” he asks Sheena. “Ready to listen, now?”

She barely contains her contempt while she nods, and thankfully keeps her mouth shut.

Keenan takes in a deep breath, and his gaze comes to mine. “I didn’t call Father Finn,” he begins. “This has nothing to do with what we talked about earlier. He came to us, and she better listen to what he has to say. He’s here to bring us news.”

Sheena sits silently beside me, but I can still feel her fuming.

I trust Keenan. She doesn’t. He told me he wouldn’t call Father Finn, and Keenan’s a man of his word. I look over at Finn.

Father Finn looks older than the last time I saw him. His hair’s nearly white, though he’s only a decade or so older than Keenan, and his eyes look tired. I wonder at times if he wars with his vows of allegiance to the church and to us. Still, his placid voice and calm demeanor haven’t changed.

“You must be Sheena,” he says placidly, his voice as calm and soothing as if he’s prepared to pray the morning office instead of witnessing an irate woman about to tear the mob boss’ head off with her bare hands.

She nods. “Aye.”

He nods. “Pleased to meet you. Name’s Father Finn, uncle to the boys here and pastor of Holy Family.”

“I know who you are.”

He carries on as if she hasn’t spoken. “I’ve come to speak to Keenan about something that affects your family,” he says. “When I came today, I didn’t know you were here. But now that I do, there’s something you ought to know. Several things, actually.” He pauses, as if waiting for her attention. When she nods, he continues. “For one, it may come as news to you that I knew your mum when she was a child.”

Sheena blinks in surprise. “Didn’t know that.”

“We went to school together,” he says. “I was friends with your father.”

Her cheeks flush pink. I don’t miss the way her body grows rigid and she clenches her jaw. She’s barely masking fury, and I’m not sure why.

Does her purpose here have something to do with her father?

He leans back in his chair. Though he speaks quietly, he holds the attention of the room. “Something else you may not know, Sheena. I presided at your mum and dad’s wedding.”

She blinks, then shakes her head again. “Didn’t know that either.”

He sighs, closes his eyes, and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I’ve given many of the Sacraments to your family, lass,” he says. “Including last rites the night your father died.”

It’s too much for her. She can’t hold her temper in check any longer. Before I can stop her, she’s on her feet, her eyes flashing, pointing an angry finger at Father Finn.

“Don’t you dare,” she says. “Your family, this family, was to blame for my father’s death. And you have the nerve to pretend as if you were friends! How dare you—”

Keenan’s on his feet, but not before I am. I yank her back toward me.

“Enough, Sheena.” I sit and yank her onto my lap and wrap my arms around her body. She heaves with anger, but closes her mouth when my grip tightens. I lean in and whisper in her ear, “Stop.”

Father Finn watches us with one brow casually raised. He doesn’t speak until she’s subdued. Her whole body trembles with rage, but she knows I mean what I say. She’s one breath away from being taken across my knee and strapped in front of the lot of them.