I think to myself, as I listen to him speak, his hands gesturing as he talks of many things, watching his eyes light up and his deep, rumble of a voice… I could love this man. I could.
We walk back to the mansion, hand in hand, as the sun sets in the distance.
“What a lovely date that was, Cormac McCarthy,” I say, as we walk up the steps to the house. “I enjoyed myself immensely.”
He pauses on the front steps, leans down, and cups my jaw. I know then that he’s going to kiss me like this, right here, right now, bathed in the magical glow of moonlight like teenagers on a first date. And I know then that I want him to, that I’m falling in love with this man. My heart flutters, and he draws me closer, his warm, strong hand on my jaw. I close my eyes, as his mouth meets mine. I sigh into his mouth, inhaling his masculine scent, reveling in the strength of his touch, moaning when his tongue explores my mouth.
“Ahem.” Someone clears his throat.
I jump, and Cormac growls, before we even see who it is. It’s Nolan, standing against the top rail of the stairs on the little porch entrance, plumes of smoke rising upward from his cigar.
“Did you break curfew, son?” he asks, wagging his cigar at us.
“Shut it,” Cormac says through tight lips, uttering a litany of profanity. I stifle a giggle.
“Told you to be sure you had her home before—” but he pauses, tipping his head to the side and looking out toward the garden. I follow his gaze, but see nothing. The teasing, playful look on his face vanishes in an instant. With a curse, he throws his cigar down, grinds it out with his heel, and takes off down the steps. We stand to the side to let him pass.
“Son of a bitch,” Cormac mutters. He snaps his fingers, and it’s as if the guard emerges from the shadows. How do they do that? Two large, uniformed men with comms in their ears approach us. I don’t need to see the weapons they carry. Though they’re concealed, I know they’re heavily armed.
Is this to be my life, then?
Caitlin and Maeve accept it. Can I?
“Take her to my room,” he orders.
I don’t question it. My heart dances in my chest when two of his men flank my sides and escort me upstairs. He chases after his brother.
And as I sit in the room, memory after memory surfaces. I didn’t have a guard, not like this. I had one guy who used me, and he’s paid the price for that. I had no friends. No fellowship like they have in this clan. People hated my mother, but in this family, they love Maeve, our matriarch. Will I find that I belong here better than I did at home? Or will I remember things that taint this place, too?
I sit by the window in our room, looking out at the darkness below. Will it always be like this? Normalcy interrupted with the duties of The Clan? Will I ever feel at home?Chapter 13CormacOnce Aileen is secured and I know she’s in good hands, I take off after Nolan. His blond hair glints in the moonlight, and it’s the only way I know where the hell he’s going. He’s faster than I am.
“Nolan!”
He doesn’t respond, but I can hear him racing ahead of me, and another set of footsteps in front of him. Who the hell did he see? He shouts something, there’s a crash, then a decidedly feminine scream. I almost trip on a tangle of limbs.
I stop short in surprise. Nolan’s got someone in his grasp, but I can’t see a damn thing. I pull out my phone and slide the flashlight on. The beam falls on Nolan wrestling a disheveled, furious redhead.
“Get it outta my fuckin’ eye,” Nolan growls at me. I swing the beam away so it doesn’t blind him. If it were a man he held, he’d subdue him in no time, but he won’t use his fists or vicious force on a woman.
“You need help?” I ask, standing to the side.
“No,” he snaps. “I’ve got this one.”
“Let me go, or I’ll call the police!” she howls, wriggling fruitlessly in his grasp. “I’ll scream!”
He gets to his feet, and holds the woman to his chest, his arms like a straightjacket around her.
“Go ahead,” he says with nonchalance. “Explain to the police how you trespassed on my property, will you?’
She huffs out in indignation.
“I’ll tell them how you abused me!”
“Abused you?” he says, with the bored drawl of someone waking from a nap. “Go ahead, lass. I’ve got my brother as witness.”
“I’ll—I’ll—”
“Make another threat and leave here with your knickers around yer ankles and yer ass reddened? Aye.”