“Aye, lad,” Nolan says sagely. “But it is.”
Keenan shakes his head. “Not hardly.”
“You ought to talk,” I say, shaking my head at him. “You ended up with Caitlin.”
His eyes darken, and he places his pint on the table. “Come again?” The dangerous tone of his voice warns me, but I’m not afraid of Keenan, and I say what I mean.
“Oh come off it, Keenan. All I mean is that she was neither a nag nor spoiled,” I tell him. “She was sweet from the day we found her.”
“Did you forget she nearly clocked us with a trowel? I had to carry her away, kicking and screaming like a banshee.”
“In self-defense,” I remind him. “Hardly a banshee.”
“No,” he admits with a smile, his eyes getting that faraway look when he speaks of his beloved. “Caitlin is a sweet lass.”
Sweet lass indeed. He fucking worships her.
“The more pressing question isn’t her temperament, lads,” Nolan says. “But what our choices are. If you don’t marry her, Cormac, she’ll have to go to another of the Clan, at the very least. Rejection of a tribute’s serious business, a luxury we can’t afford. I’d take her myself if you won’t, Cormac. It’s our duty.”
“Aye.” Don’t I know it. I feel the weight of responsibility to make the right choice. The livelihood of the Clan’s on my shoulders. Keenan’s wife’s heavy with child, ready to burst at any moment, and though he’ll have a nanny and help, he’ll be occupied for a time. And if we don’t take the tribute offered by the Martins, our clans will war. Someone has to marry her.
“Honestly, brother, it isn’t hesitation,” I admit. “I’ll take the Martin girl. I just want to be prepared to deal with her.”
Nolan leans forward, a shock of blond hair falling across his forehead. “I’ve met her, you know.”
“Have you?” It’s news to me.
“Aye,” he says. “Banged one of her roomies.”
Keenan’s lips thin, but he doesn’t speak.
“Course you did. And what’d you find?”
I’m suddenly curious. I need to know everything about the girl I’m to marry.
“I wasn’t joking when I said she’s gorgeous,” Nolan begins, when Keenan’s phone rings. He answers, and a few seconds later, drops his pint. It clatters to the floor. Nolan and I look to each other in astonishment. Keenan never loses self-control.
“It’s Caitlin,” Keenan says. He’s on his feet, his eyes wide, hands trembling on the phone he holds.
“She alright?” I ask him.
“Aye. Water’s broke. She says her contractions are two minutes apart.”
“Christ, man, go!” I tell him. “You want me to drive you?”
“No, I’m good,” he says, already at the door.
“Good luck, brother!” I shout after him.
He waves, and he’s gone.
Nolan and I sit for a moment, stunned. He polishes off his Shandy with a flourish, and slams it on the countertop.
“Brother, it’s time we pay a visit to the real part of this club, aye?”
The real part of the club, where women are aplenty, and the air is ripe with the sweet, seductive scent of sex.
“Hell yes.”
I pay our tab and head to the back with Nolan. We move past the dimly-lit front room, past the idle chatter and clink of glass, to the thick black door guarded at the back.
“Tell me more,” I say to Nolan when we enter the members-only section of the club.
“First,” he says with a roll of the eyes, “her name’s Aileen, not ‘the Martin girl.’”
I punch his shoulder, which only makes him grin while he rubs it out.
Aileen. Have to admit, I love that name.
“Second,” he says, smiling and waving to a girl dressed in black latex in the corner of the room. He snaps his fingers and points to the floor. She drops to her knees and begins to crawl toward him, her ready grin revealing this is not a hardship. “She sings like a lark.”
He freezes when a man steps toward the little kitten heading his way, lumbering toward her with the grace of a troll. He’s masked and wearing all black. He reaches down, blocking the girl’s path, and grabs a fistful of her hair. My pulse spikes. I’m used to all manner of manhandling at the club, but the tone of her scream and shocked expression tells me she didn’t authorize this.
“Son of a bitch,” Nolan growls, and takes off. I groan but follow. If there’s a throw-down, I’m his backup. I see Tully and Boner with a few girls nearby, and catch their attention as we go.
By the time we get to the girl, the bastard’s got her on the tips of her toes, her hair entwined in his meaty fist. She’s beating at his hand, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Flagon!” she screams. “Flagon!” It’s the goddamn club safe word. He doesn’t stop.
Nolan doesn’t hesitate but tackles the man full on. The girl topples to the floor, and Tully catches her.