Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“Date me, not my choice of living,” he said.
“Are the two not connected?”
“Give me a chance.” He slid his hand along the table, taking mine. “You feel that, Una? That connection? It was there when you were eighteen. So strong that I had to stay away. But it’s still there, and we’re both adults now.”
My heart beat rapidly and my breathing picked up. I felt it too. He had woken something in me all those years ago. An awareness. A craving that had never been satisfied. The moment he took my hand, something in my chest eased. The second I walked away from him, the ache started. I was too young then to understand, but I understood it now. And I wanted him.
I had sensed him the entire time at my father’s funeral. Watching me. Staying close. Always looking. Every time I glanced around the room, I met his intense gaze. Knew when he was close. Felt sad when he left and took that intensity with him. It was as if my soul needed him. As if I needed him.
“I don’t know if I can.” I swore I would never date anyone in the syndicate. Never get close to one of the men.
“Do you hate me because of your father?”
“No,” I gasped. “My father made his decision long ago. I disliked it, but it was part of him. I just don’t know if I want it to be part of me. If I could live in a world where the person I cared about was in danger all the time. It destroyed my mother.”
“Give us a chance. My life is mostly nonviolent. I am careful. My men are careful. We want peace.”
“Tell that to the bullet that hit my father.”
He frowned. “That was a disgruntled, drugged-up asshole looking for revenge. It’s not a daily occurrence.” He paused. “Things have changed, Una.”
I sighed, making the mistake of meeting his eyes. They were locked on me. Intense, passionate, and focused. I wanted to feel that intensity every day. Give in to the hunger he brought out in me. Rethink the rule I had set for myself so long ago. Somehow, I knew he would be worth it.
“Okay,” I whispered.
“To the job or me?” he asked.
“To the job,” I replied. I knew it was time to leave Embers. Audrey Ford would never be the mentor I hoped.
“And this?” he asked, indicating our hands.
I looked down, realizing I was clutching on to him with both hands as if he was a lifeline.
“You know you hold all the power here, mo chroí.”
I swallowed. “We can try.”
His smile said it all. “Perfect.”
I stepped from the stage amid the loud applause. I had laid my heart out on the stage tonight. Let my pain bleed out through the lyrics. I sensed Finn during the second show, but he was gone before I finished. I made my way to the dressing room, wanting nothing more than to change and head home. Soak in the tub with a dram of whiskey. Not the posh kind Finn and Niall drank, but reliable Jameson. It never let me down.
I walked into the room, knowing he was there before I flicked on the light.
“Finn,” I said wearily. “Not tonight, please.”
He sat in the corner, his presence once again filling the space. “You look exhausted. What’s wrong?”
With a sigh, I sat at my table, making quick work of removing my makeup. I wore it lightly at work, but under the bright lights of the stage in the music room, I needed more. I disliked it. I was silent until I scrubbed off the last of it, changing behind the privacy screen in the corner. My yoga pants and soft shirt touched my overheated skin gently. I felt as if my nerves were on the outside of my body, and I was worried about breaking down in front of Finn. I refused to do that.
“You got your wish,” I finally replied, sitting back at the table, smoothing on some moisturizer. “Brian moved out this morning.”
“Good riddance.”
I turned on him, angry. “If you dislike him so much, why do you keep him on?”
“He’s a decent soldier. He could be great if he applied himself. But he was used to riding around on your dad’s coattails. And you coddling him. Being on his own will be good for him.”
“Whatever you say, Finn.” I reached for my sweater when Finn cursed and shot out of the chair, dropping to his knees in front of me. He took my arm, turning and inspecting it.
“What the hell,” he muttered. “Who—” He stopped speaking, his eyes narrowing, his mouth a slash of anger on his face. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
I stood, shaking off his grip. “You are going to leave him alone. Do you hear me? We had an argument. I kicked him out. He grabbed me, and I bruise easily.”