Tully (Dangerous Doms 7)

Two days.

Three.

Five.

On the sixth motherfucking day I still haven’t seen her, I stomp up the steps to the house to try to reason with Keenan again. I find him standing at the top of the stairs, hands tucked in his pockets, his gaze ahead of him, focused on the Irish Sea.

“What’s the story, brother?” he asks.

Caitlin opens the front door and steps outside. Her bright eyes alight when she spies Keenan on the front step.

“Ah, hello,” she says, as if delighted to see him. She reaches for his hand. He bends, wraps his hand around her lower back, and draws her to him for a kiss. He kisses her cheek, and she rests her hand on his chest. “Didn’t know you were still out here.”

He speaks gently to her, but I can still hear him. “Everything alright, lass?”

“Oh, aye,” she says with a smile. “Mam and I thought we’d head to the city centre and do a little shopping for the new baby?”

“I’ve sent a guard after Tully’s McKenna, but we can arrange for security in another hour or two, once the next shift returns.”

“Perfect,” she says. She trots past him to the garden, and begins to cut some flowers that she arranges in a basket.

These two are the perfect example of making it work despite all odds.

“Clan meeting tonight,” Keenan says. “This evening we’ll fill everyone in what we know, what we’ve found out about the attack, and piece together where we stand.”

He looks out over the grounds of the McCarthy estate, his eyes roving over the blue-green of the Irish Sea in the distance. “My father was up against more than this. We’ve been up against more ourselves. We’ll figure out where we stand.”

He gives me a sad smile and heads inside.

I turn to face the sea. Here up by the mansion, I’m close enough I can smell the salt air but far enough away I can’t feel the spray of the water as it clashes against hard rocks. I blow out a breath and do what my Chief tells me. I head inside.

Cormac comes by with Aileen, and later Lachlan brings Fiona and their new little lad.

I can’t help but feel proud of how far he’s come. When I first met Lachlan, he was a bruising lad from St. Albert’s, underage, with a temper and a chip on his shoulder. We taught him well, schooled him under Malachy’s tutelage, and he became the youngest brother ever inducted into our fold.

“Where’s McKenna?” Aileen asks, casting a glance around the room. “She hasn’t returned yet?”

I sigh, shaking my head. “She left when Keenan told her she couldn’t return to school and she’d have to stay here.”

Fiona’s eyes widen, her brows shooting heavenward. The baby starts to cry, and she pats his little back. “There, now,” she whispers soothingly. “Shhhh.” She frowns, thinking over what I said.

“How is that safe, Tully?”

Lachlan gives her a sharp look, but she presses on.

“Why’d you let her go?”

“Let her go? Are you out of your mind? Of course I didn’t let her go. Keenan said to let her.” I scowl. “We’ve got a watch on her.”

Fiona shakes her head. “Bet you didn’t like that.”

“Fiona,” Lachlan chides, but I only chuckle.

“She speaks the truth, Lachlan. I hated seeing her go. Keenan says let her come back, and if I push too hard, well…” I shrug and give Fiona a wink. “I bet you know what it’s like dealing with a headstrong lass, no?”

Fiona shakes her head. “Aye, he’s lucky I fell in love with him.”

He tweaks a strand of her red hair. “Hey!”

My phone buzzes at the same time as Lachlan’s. Keenan.

Meeting’s been moved to immediately following dinner. Everyone report to the dining room, we’ll meet there.

Cormac’s response comes first. We’ll meet in front of everyone?

Keenan: Aye. What I have to say tonight impacts everyone.

A somber pall falls over the dining room as we assemble. Tonight, instead of the usual buffet-style food, the staff’s placed large, steaming platters of food along the large dining table, family-style. Uniformed staff fill water glasses and goblets, while others bring out baskets of freshly-baked bread. There’s a decided feeling of expectation over the room. It’s unusual for us to discuss business in front of anyone here.

The children are with their nannies or older siblings, but the wives and women of the Clan sit with their significant others. Keenan with Caitlin, Cormac and Aileen, the youngest McCarthy son Nolan with his wife Sheena. Beside him sit Carson and cousin Megan, and Lachlan and Fiona. Maeve sits at one end of the table beside her brother-in-law, Father Finn, the local vicar of Holy Family Parish.

There’s happy chattering among them all, as we pile plates high with the good food the staff cooks: thick cuts of roast beef aside roasted potatoes and gravy, carrots and peas, golden biscuits with butter, and a garden salad. I tuck in happily, as my brothers ask me about my recovery and a few of the women ask me how McKenna is.