CHAPTER 18
SAM
Iam going to kill you, Brennan.” Cillian Fitzpatrick stormed into my office at Badlands the following day, with Hunter trailing behind him. “You have some nerve cornering my sister like that. Your bet with her is off. We’ll pay the money.”
I sat back in my seat, smirking as I tapped my fingers over my mouth. It had been three hours since I dropped Aisling off at the clinic to hand in her resignation, and already I missed her like crazy. The idea of giving up on the engagement after she’d agreed to it seemed as far from reality as letting Cillian and Hunter shove a ten-foot spiky dildo into my ass while I watch reruns of Hannah Montana.
“I don’t want the money,” I drawled.
“Well too bad…” Cillian stopped in front of my desk, his fists clenched “…because buying my sister is not an option.”
“I didn’t buy her, I won her. You were the one who bought your wife, while we’re on the subject, and you…” I turned to Hunter before he opened his mouth “…you don’t even have a say in this. You’re having sex with my sister. Count your blessing that you are still alive. I still have no idea what she sees in you.”
Hunter lifted his hands up in surrender. “Same here, bro. I have no idea why she is with me. I just know I’m not letting her go.”
“How did you get in here anyway?” I frowned. The entrance was manned by two bodyguards.
Cillian took a seat in front of me, and Hunter occupied the chair beside him as they both invited themselves to stay.
Cillian and Hunter had no idea what went on between me, their father, Aisling and Jane, and I intended to keep it that way. Not because I gave a fuck about what they thought but because I knew it would hurt Aisling if her brothers doubted my devotion to her. And she would be upset when Hunter and Cillian passed the information along to Persephone, Sailor, and Devon, making the fact I stabbed her in the back a well-known matter.
“Oh, I know Johnny and Grayson from way back.” Hunter waved his hand around dismissively, referring to the bouncers standing at the front door. “I told them we came in to congratulate you on your engagement.”
“When really we came here to tell you that you will not blackmail our sister.” Cillian lit up a cigar. The stench of the burning rolled tobacco drifted around the room, and I tried to remember what I liked about smoking. Cigars smelled like feet on fire, and cigarettes were their cheaper equivalent.
It was peculiar. How both bad and good habits were born from boredom. How they turned into an obsession, an addiction, before you knew it. And how taking back control from them became a habit in itself.
“Your sister is a big girl.” I laced my fingers together on my desk, trying to keep the disdain from my voice. “She came to me of her own free will. As you recall, you paid me not to get anywhere near her, which should tell you something about her reaction to me.”
“And as you recall, you crapped all over your promise not to touch her, if you are getting married now,” Cillian retorted.
Cillian wasn’t wrong, but he couldn’t prove his suspicion either, so I just flashed him a barely tolerant smile.
“Do you have proof?”
“No, but—”
“Then I suggest you keep your opinion where it belongs, in Reddit conspiracy theory threads. Aisling and I are engaged to be married. The marriage will take place sooner rather than later. I’ve already spoken to your father about deducting the annual bonus for not touching her as I intend to touch her very often—and very inappropriately. I understand that the Fitzpatrick family enjoys seeing Ash as the prized, devoted daughter who dotes on Jane and fulfills her father’s every whim, but this stops now.”
“Which brings us to our next topic.” Cillian narrowed his eyes at me. “Seems to me like the entire divorce ordeal between my parents, along with the stolen cufflinks and poison case disappeared into thin air. As the person in charge of the situation, would you care to explain it?” He held his cigar between his teeth, half-smiling.
The problem with Cillian was that, unlike most of my rich clients, he was smart and observant. Those things were definitely a thorn in my side.
“Gladly.” I smacked my lips together. “We found the person responsible for all those things. For obvious reasons, your father swiped it under the rug. Didn’t want your mother to become even more upset with him when another lover came to light. How is Jane doing, by the way?”
“Don’t pretend like you care,” Cillian yawned. I doubted he cared, too.
“Fair enough.” I chuckled. Hunter, the only one out of us three who actually gave a fuck, confirmed that she was still attending therapy. Good for her. She needed all the help she could get because I was never letting her emotionally manipulate Aisling again.
“You quit smoking, huh?” Hunter’s gaze flicked to my desk, which now lacked the usual mountain of ashtrays, cigarette packs, and Zippos. “From one addict to another, let me tell you, I’m really proud of you.”
“That warms my heart,” I said.
“Really?” Hunter’s eyes lit up.
“No,” I deadpanned, looking between them. “Did you get everything you came here for? I have a busy day. It’s called work…” I snapped my fingers, making a show of reminding them “…you know that thing people do to make money when they are not born into royalty.”
“You are about to marry into royalty,” Hunter jested, wiggling his brows.
“Which reminds me,” Cillian put his cigar out, standing up and buttoning his blazer, “there is no way I am letting you marry my sister without a prenup.”
“I’ll sign the goddamn prenup,” I bit out, “but she can’t know that.”
“She can’t know that?” Hunter frowned. “Why not?”
“It’s not the money I care about, it’s keeping your sister,” I grunted, annoyed that I had to spell it out for him, like he didn’t know what it meant to be pussy-whipped.
“You really do love her, don’t you?” Hunter grinned smugly.
“Give us a smart-ass answer and I will kill you,” Cillian warned.
I was about to answer when someone kicked the door down, sending it flying off its hinges and skating along the floor. I reached for my gun in my desk’s drawer, but the two men in the balaclavas were faster.
“No need to kill him,” one said in a thick Russian accent, pointing his gun at me. “We’ll do it for you.”
He shot two bullets into my chest.
Everything went black.
I slipped in and out of consciousness as they rushed me to the hospital. I couldn’t feel any pain in my chest or my shoulder, which couldn’t have been a good sign. Everything was blurry. The white punishing florescent light forced me to close my eyes as soon as I opened them.
In the background, I heard Cillian and Hunter’s voices, and Devon’s.
“Johnny and Grayson are dead,” Hunter said, unaware that I was half-conscious. “We need to take care of that.”
“Troy’s on it,” Cillian quipped. “He’ll clean up the scene. He has people working on it right now. They’re boarding up the card rooms in case the police get tipped off.”
In that moment, I was glad my friends weren’t total dumbasses. I must’ve groaned because Cillian’s head snapped in my direction. The doctor and nurse behind me shooed my entourage away. We must have been heading into the operating room.
“Call Ash,” I tried to say, but even though I could move my mouth, it didn’t produce any sound.
“What?” Hunter reached over to squeeze my hand. For fuck’s sake, what was he going to do next? Cut the cord when I delivered his fucking baby?
“Call Ash!” I roared, hoping my hearing was impaired due to the gunshots and that I didn’t lose my fucking vocal chords.
Cillian and Hunter stopped dead in their tracks behind the medical staff as my gurney burst through the double doors.
I had to stay alive.
I had to.
Not for me.
For her.
I closed my eyes again.
For the first time in my life, I was losing a fight.