Tully (Dangerous Doms 7)

“Christ,” I mutter under my breath, when a soft feminine voice comes from behind me.

“I hear he likes to hang around here.”

I swivel my head around to find McKenna standing right behind me.

“What the bloody hell are you doing here?” I ask. I could fucking throttle her. “Of all the times I need you to do what you’re fucking told, and you came here? I swear to God when I get you alone—”

She holds up a hand to stop me. “Yes, yes, I know,” she says with a sigh, and is that a touch of amusement? This woman is in so much trouble. “But I couldn’t get through to Keenan, and you said you needed assistance at the parsonage, so…” She peers behind me, still speaking in a whisper. “What’s the trouble?”

I clench my hands into fists, so angry I can’t reply, but seconds are ticking by and I need to get inside.

She peers up at the window and wordlessly points. “Do you need to get in there?”

“Aye,” I mutter reluctantly. I do not want her endangered.

She looks to the window then back to me.

“Sorry to say, Tully, but you’re far too big to get in there.”

I roll my eyes. “Fucking brilliant.”

She smiles cheerfully. “I can fit in there, though. Just like I did last time, remember?”

“Oh, I remember, alright,” I mutter, in a whisper. “You’re the one that doesn’t remember what it’s like to feel my palm across your stubborn little arse.”

She flushes and bites her lip. “Do you need my help or not?”

I have no choice. I quickly tell her what’s going on. Nodding, she looks at the window again. “With a boost up, I’ll get in there. But we’ll need you inside.”

“You’ll come around to the side door as quietly as you can and open the door for me.”

“Aye.” She nods again. “Let’s do this.”

She looks more alive than she has in days, her eyes bright and enthusiastic. Maybe she needs this, a sense of purpose, I realize, more than she needs my protection.

I lace my fingers together to boost her up, and she sets her foot squarely in the palm of my hand. Before I lift her, though, I wrap my arms around her and give her a quick, fierce hug.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” I whisper in her ear. I know now that whoever attacked Mary did so because they were coming after her. It’s the only reason I can think of. “Please, for the love of God, McKenna, will you do what you’re bloody told in there?”

She hugs me back and kisses my cheek. “Yes, Tully. You have my word.”

You have my word.

She has no way of knowing this is the phrase the brotherhood uses, every one of us, to promise one another that we’ll do what we say we would, but it has an unexpected impact on me. I squeeze her hand and kiss her cheek.

“Good girl,” I whisper in her ear. “Stay safe.”

The next second, I’m heaving her up and she goes, nimble as a little kitten, up through the open window. I can see her shadow run along the pantry to the right, and within seconds, the door opens and I enter with her. Voices rise and fall down the hall. They don’t know we’re here yet.

I draw my gun and hold my finger to my lips. She nods, then points to the gun and back to her. She wants a gun? I roll my eyes and shake my head. I don’t like her shooting a damn weapon. She’s liable to hurt herself.

She nods, then looks to the left and right. She grins when she spies something on the entryway table. Seconds later, she’s grabbed a thick, sturdy candlestick of the candle, her hands wrapped around the candlestick. Bloody hell.

We walk down the hall, careful not to creak the old wooden floorboards, as the voices in the other room rise in pitch.

“You can tell your father he’s a fucking coward,” Maeve says. “I know why he sent you, and anyone who hasn’t put to rest anger and retribution from bloody decades ago deserves the life of hatred he’s sown.” She’s furious. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard her curse before.

The men give each other orders, and one finally speaks loud enough for the rest of us to hear.

“You’ll call Keenan, Father,” one voice says. “You’ll ask him to come here, to the rectory.” He turns to his friends. “And when he and the others come, we’ll ambush.”

“Oh, aye, sir,” one man says, and he sounds fucking eager. I shake my head. It isn’t happening.

“Feels like déjà vu,” McKenna says. “Just like the first time we were in the mansion.”

That ended well. Let’s bloody well hope this does, too.

I gesture for her to follow me, and she does, for once in her life as obedient as could be. When we make it to the doorway, I quickly form a plan.