Bratva Beast: A Dark Romance

“What’s he talking about?” she asked.

“Go ahead, Fiona. Tell Cath what happened. She should know.”

I took a breath and closed my eyes. I could still feel Tully’s angry breath and hear the rattle in his lungs.

“It happened so fast. I was with Mack—”

“Who’s Mack?”

“A guy I’ve been seeing. He’s Russian.”

“Morozov,” Tully said angrily.

Cath took a strangled breath. “You’re dating someone from another family? Fiona, how could you do that?”

“It just happened, okay?” I couldn’t tell them the whole truth. Maybe Cath would keep my secret, but Tully was much too angry. “We came out of this computer store and ran into Donal and Tully and Ferris on the street, and things got heated, and Donal attacked, then Ferris—” I stopped myself, unable to say the words out loud.

“Do you have any idea how fucked up Ferris is about what happened?” Tully asked softly. “Do you have any clue? He hasn’t left his room since then. Hasn’t stopped crying. I don’t think he’s eating. He smells like fucking shit. Just lying in bed, rolling around in his own filth. Do you have any idea?”

“I didn’t mean for that to happen.” Which was true—I didn’t mean for any of it.

And it was their fault.

If only Donal hadn’t been such an aggressive asshole, and Ferris hadn’t pulled out a gun, they’d both be okay.

Mack wouldn’t have hurt them on his own. At least, I wouldn’t have let him.

But that wasn’t how the men in the Doyle family worked. They saw one of their cousins with an enemy and they reacted exactly how their uncles taught them to react.

It was a long, unbroken chain of misery that stretched back generations. It was hundreds of years of men in the Doyle family, the Doyle clan, aggressively defending what they perceived as their own.

“Doesn’t matter what you mean. You knew something bad would happen the second you got involved with a guy like that.” His voice was strangled and on edge.

Poor Tully. I used him, and used him, and used him, and now he was stretched so thin, I thought he might tear in half.

“I know you won’t listen, but forget about me and Mack, okay? Just forget about all of this. You two should be together.”

“You don’t get to just walk away.” Tully’s jaw clenched.

“I came to make sure you were okay. Now I know you’re alive at least.”

“Fiona, wait.” Cath leaned toward me. “What’s going on with you? Why are you seeing some Russian?”

“He makes me feel something I never felt with the family.” I looked at her sadly, willing her to understand, but I didn’t think she would. Cath was a good girl, but she was a Doyle to her core. “I know neither of you will believe this, but everything’s happening for a good reason.”

“Fuck you.” Tully was on the verge of crying. “Donal didn’t die for some good reason. Donal died for some bullshit.”

“Let me past, Tully.” I stared at him, eyes narrowed. Mack was halfway out of his seat.

“Fuck. You.” He lingered in front of me, breathing hard, but he slipped out of the booth. “Don’t come around anymore, Fiona. I don’t want to see you again.”

I slid out past him and walked a few feet away. In the corner of my eye, I saw Mack relax.

“I won’t bother you again. I just came to say how sorry I am. I liked Donal too.”

Tully got back into the booth and put his head in his hands.

“Just go, Fiona,” Cath said, frowning at me like I was a stranger. She reached out and ran her fingers through Tully’s hair. “I don’t know what you want, but just go away.”

Cath got up and sat next to Tully. She stroked his arm and held him tight against her, and he started crying into her chest. She looked back at me, eyes flat and dead.

“Just go.”

I turned and I left.

Mack met me at the door. We went out together, into the heat of the mid-morning sun. I leaned against him, like Tully did to Cath, but I didn’t cry.

“Was it worth it?”

I shook my head. “Not really.”

“You get what you wanted at least?”

“He’s alive. I guess that’s all I wanted to see.”

“All right then.” He kissed my hair. “Come on, princess. I’ll take you home. You look like you need to be taken care of.”

“Is that all you think about?”

“Not sex, but I appreciate where your head’s at. I was thinking more bacon and coffee and a foot massage.”

“God, that sounds good.”

“Then let’s go.” He steered me to the car, but before I could step inside, he pinned me against the door and kissed me. I felt the blistering heat of him roll through my skin. “You didn’t do that to the kid, you know. It’s not on you.”

“You don’t know that. If we hadn’t taken the phone—”