Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Piper
A fter having the house practically to ourselves on Sean’s first day of recovery, it’s a bit of a letdown on the next two days, having Finn and Laine home and Tag and the twins coming and going.
Even though they’ve been good to me, it’s obvious I’m not welcome here. It’s no secret that Tag wants me gone. It’s also obvious when the others stop talking whenever I enter the room.
I understand why, but it’s a bit unnerving.
What’s even more unnerving is Sean.
I’m not sure what changed, but all my plans for covert orgasms have been shot down. He’s been kind and supportive, like always, but has shown no interest in private time with me.
Did I do something wrong?
His one-eighty turnaround started right after I woke up in his bed. Sure, I turned him down for sex, but that was because he was bleeding. Did I offend him? I can’t imagine that. Did my tears scare him off? I doubt it.
The only thing I can come up with is that real life has crept in, and his attention is divided between calls from the MC, meetings with Tag, and proving to Doc Kelvin that he’s fit to be out of bed and back on his bike.
I know he misses patrolling the streets with his Devil brothers, but the wall he put up between us is personal.
Doesn’t matter. Our ill-advised affair was bound to end, so it’s good that we gain some distance and perspective before I leave.
And no matter what, I loved our time together.
Best week of my life.
“I seriously suggest you give it a couple more days, Sean.” Doc Kelvin is fighting a losing battle on that.
Sean insisted this exam take place in the living room downstairs because he’s tired of lying around in bed. “Aye, your medical opinion has been heard and is appreciated, Doc.”
“And will promptly be ignored.” Doc closes his medical bag. “I don’t know why I patch you Quinn brothers up some days.”
“Because you love us.” Finn cups his fingers against his chest in the shape of a heart.
Doc rolls his eyes. “No. It’s definitely the money.”
Finished with Sean, the good doctor turns his attention to me. “And how are you feeling, lass?”
“Much better, thank you. My ribs are still tender, but the cuts and bruises are fading. Instead of eggplant purple, most of my body is now a sickly yellowish green.”
He gently slides his finger under my hair and examines the damage left by Vladmir’s ring. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do more with this. Once it heals, I can refer you to a couple of talented plastic surgeons that could minimize the scar.”
I step back and let my hair cover the raw flesh left behind by my Bratva betrothed. “I’m thinking of keeping it. I know it’s gnarly, but it’s a symbol of survival, right?”
“A true battle scar.” The look Sean gives me warms me deep into the marrow of my bones. And the husky tone lacing his voice tells me he’s proud of me.
Doc Kelvin steps back and gathers his bag. “Then my work is done here. Until the next clusterfuck, I bid you farewell.”
Finn chuckles. “You’ve been spending too much time at the theater with your wife.”
Kelvin shrugs. “If watching men tromp around a stage singing puts me in the woman’s good graces, it’s a win.”
“Happy wife, happy life,” Laine says.
“Aye, that’s the truth of it, isn’t it?”
Laine and Finn walk Kelvin out, and the two of us are alone at last.
When he looks at me, he holds up his hands. “Don’t listen to Doc. I’m fine. Quinns are too tough to keep down for long.”
“Or too stubborn.”
“Both work.”
I roll my eyes, but there’s no heat in the look I give him. He’s too damned ornery to care, even if I were actually annoyed.
And really, what right do I have to voice an opinion?
Our time together was the collision of two worlds—a perfect storm of fate and injury.
Sean’s gaze narrows on me. “Where’d you go just then? And why do you look so sad?”
I glance around to ensure our conversation is still private and sigh. “This week has been incredible, but Ryan’s wake is tonight and the funeral’s tomorrow. Like it or not, it’s time to get back to my life.”
“That doesn’t mean you need to go back to that house. I can have you escorted to the wake and the funeral. Then, if your father tries anything, you can get out and be brought back to the north side where you’ll be safe.”
I reach up and cup his jaw, running my thumb over the scar on his lip. “I’ll be fine. I’m stronger than I used to be and see things clearer now.”
“And how do you see this playing out?”
I pat his arm. “Da will be furious with me, but he won’t upset Mam while she’s grieving. I’ll apologize that having choices in my life jammed him up, but be clear that I’m not sorry for refusing the Bratva. It was a cruel and cold misjudgment on his part.”
“I don’t like it, P. Your father isn’t firing on all cylinders lately. What if it goes bad and he turns on you?”
I shrug and take a step back, putting some distance between us. “Your brother called the Bratva boss in Russia, right? He’s soured the deal with Da?”
“Aye, Tag’s negotiating an agreement, but your father made big promises about how much product he could move. The terms the Russians expect to be met mean more weapons than Ireland can handle.”
“But Da isn’t part of that, is he?”
“Not that we know of, but nothing is locked down. If the Russians decide to go with your father, there isn’t much we can do about it.”
The concern lacing Sean’s words melts my heart, but the reality is, Russian deal or not, I can’t hide in Quinn Castle for the rest of my life.
“I’ll pay my respects to my family, pack my bags, and then, after everyone leaves the reception tomorrow, I’ll walk out the door.”
“And go where? You’re not planning to stay on the south side, are you?”
“No. I have a couple of girlfriends who share a flat up in Cabra. I’ll stay there while I figure things out.”
My plan to live on the north side seems to ease some of his anxieties, but not all. “What if your father doesn’t let you leave?”
“Sean, I’ll be fine. The important thing is that I know who my father is and what he’s capable of.”
Sean runs his fingers through his ebony waves and exhales. “I don’t like this one bit.”
“That’s you being overprotective.”
“No, it’s my instincts screaming that you need to stay here until we figure something else out.”
“I can’t. Tag’s been decent about me being here, but I agree with him. I’m kerosine to the open flame of your already dangerous lives. Nothing can change the fact that my last name is McGuire, and having me here threatens to pull Dublin into an all-out war.”
Tag hasn’t been welcoming, but I get it.
His father is dead. His girlfriend is pregnant. And he’s in charge of keeping people safe.
I see the affection in Sean’s gaze and understand why he pulled back. This is hard enough as it is.
One week wasn’t enough, but one month or one year wouldn’t be either.
“We had a good run, Mr. Quinn, but it’s time I face my life and start picking up the pieces.” I extend my hand, and he grips my palm and pulls me forward.
He takes what I intend as a platonic parting and claims my mouth for a kiss. His tongue runs along the seam of my lips, and I submit without hesitation.
It’s embarrassing how easily I succumb. I make a mental note to at least attempt to play hard to get, but even as I do, I resign myself to the truth.
There’s no resisting Sean Quinn.
The kiss is aggressive and his hand slides under the front of my shirt. He palms my breast, and I groan, arching into his touch. “I thought we were parting as friends. You’re not playing fair.”
“Didn’t you hear? I’m a very bad man.”
But having a very bad man in my corner has been a very good thing. I end the kiss and try to stop wanting things I shouldn’t. “I’ll let you know when I’m back and settled. Maybe you can take me for a ride on your bike.”
“Or you can ride me on my bike.”
And just like that, my core is weeping for him and I’m sliding my hand over the bulge in his jeans. His hips flex and he presses his cock against my palm.
“Oh, shit. Sorry.”
The two of us break apart and I find Finn standing in the doorway holding a red and blue box. “Sorry. Your rice was ringing, Piper.”
My what? It takes a moment for my mind to catch up with what he’s saying. “Oh, thanks.”
Sean steps between us and points at Finn. “You saw nothing. You say nothing. Got it?”
Finn hands Sean the box and holds up his hands. “How could I see anything? I wasn’t even here.”
Finn rushes out of the living room like his ass is on fire and Sean hands me the box with my cell in it. “Will he tell Tag? Will this come back to bite you?”
Sean shakes out his hands and exhales. “No. Finn’s a smart kid. He won’t piss Tag off or fuck me over. He’ll keep what he saw to himself.”
Good. I don’t want Sean to suffer because of our crash of fate any more than he already has.
I pull my cell free from the rice and brush off the layer of white dust. “I guess it finally dried out.”
“I guess so.”
Swiping my finger across the screen, I tap in my code and unlock it. There are sixteen texts and a dozen missed calls from Rory and Brody, a couple of calls from Mam, and one from Da.
One? Is that all my disappearance was worth to him?
I delete it without listening to it. Why should I? He called once, late on the night of my dinner with the Russians. He likely heard from Vladmir and Arkady and left me a scathing rant about how useless I proved myself to be and how I needed to fix it or consider myself cut off and cast out.
A week ago, that would’ve destroyed me.
Now it barely registers.
“Are you okay?” Sean asks.
I draw a deep breath and do a gut check. “I am. Or, at least, I will be. I’m Piper-fucking-McGuire. No one can make me feel weak and insignificant unless I allow it. From now on—I won’t allow it.”
Sean winks and pulls me in for a hug. “That’s my girl.”
I love the sound of that, but we both know I can’t be.
As amazing as this was—and it really was—it was temporary. My father would burn down their lives if he found out I was with a Quinn.
I can’t repay their kindness by bringing violence down on their family—especially when their family is expecting a new addition.
“Put your number in my phone. I’ll text you an update later. You’ll see. Everything will be fine.”
His thumbs glide over the screen, and then he hands it back. “I’ll be waiting for the text. I mean it, Piper. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll be crossing the river and out for blood.”
“That’s not your job anymore. I’m not your problem.”
Sean leans close and lifts my chin with his fingers. “You were never a problem, kitten—a complication, yes—but never a problem.”
His breath dust across my cheek and sexual energy hums over my skin. “That’s a fine distinction, Mr. Quinn.”
One corner of his deliciously full lips lifts into a cocky smirk. “I meant what I said about not letting anyone hurt you again. If anyone lays a fucking finger on you, I will cut them off with garden shears. And if anyone dares to make you cry, I will put them in the fucking ground.”
I hear the threat in the growl of his voice and see it in the storm darkening his emerald green eyes. “I’ll text you. I swear.” I press one last kiss on the scar of his cheek. “Thank you for being my black knight. I will always cherish you as my first. Be safe, Mr. Quinn.”
Sean
From the moment Brendan and Bryan leave to take Piper to the bridge closest to her home, I’m climbing out of my fucking skin. Her going back to Mad Mattie is a mistake. I feel that to the depth of my soul. It’s why I couldn’t take her myself. I knew I could never let her go.
The McGuires don’t deserve her.
Mattie doesn’t understand the meaning of family, loyalty, or basic decency, for that matter.
He’s a greedy fucker with delusions of grandeur.
Da’s larger than life presence and power always kept him in check. With Da gone, the truce isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on. Tag wants to believe he can earn that level of obedience from him, but it’ll never happen.
There’s no stopping a runaway train.
My bike roars to life the moment I give her some throttle and the throaty rumble soothes some of the rage burning like wildfire in my blood.
No, it’s not all rage. There’s a lot of panic, too.
I respect how far Piper has come in a week, but she still doesn’t know how petty and twisted Mattie can be.
My mind is a whirlwind of fury and not even the wind pulling at my hair and my leather cut flapping against my chest can soothe the beast within.
Gearing down, I lean into the turn to take me to the clubhouse and slow down as I approach the ten-foot steel door that keeps wandering eyes from prying into our business.
My boots have barely touched the asphalt of the driveway when the mechanics of the door kick in and my way is clear. Keefer Gallagher is standing on the porch of the clubhouse with the gate remote and closes things up behind me.
Once I’ve parked my ride, I dismount my girl and unbuckle the strap under my chin. I leave my helmet and gloves on my seat and shuffle my way over to the porch steps.
“You look like shit, boss.”
“And you’re a fucking pageant queen?”
Gallager chuckles. “Fair enough. So, Kelvin let you out of bed, did he?”
“Didn’t have much of a say in it. Three days of fucking around in bed is about all I can take.”
I mean that in the sense of not being able to ride or work, but my subconscious mind takes that as a cue to revisit every erotic image of what three days of fucking around in bed with Piper could’ve looked like.
Shit. I’ve gotta get a grip. “So, what did I miss? Give me the highlights.”
“I’m sure Tag’s told you most of it. We’ve had five separate fires and lost two trucks.”
“Aye, Tag told me. He said we managed to salvage most of the warehouse contents, so it was only about a ten percent loss.”
“What’s this ‘we’ you speak of? I don’t recall you being there while we sucked in smoke and hand the hair burned off our arms.”
I arch a brow. “I’m not in the mood for your lip today, K-man. Keep it up and you’re liable to get your balls twisted off by a pair of gardening shears.”
My VP laughs and opens the door. “Come on in, boss. I’m not sure why, but the guys missed you.”
“Sean!” The boys rally around and welcome me back, one of them offering me a beer, and several of them asking to see the damage.
I accept the beer and decline the show and tell.
Shuffling over to the bar, I lean against the rail and twist the top off my drink. “Where’s Kieran? I need him to do something for me.”
Frenchie throws a thumb over his shoulder. “He’s working in the paint shop. You want me to get him?”
As much as I hate the idea of moving, there’s no sense in fucking up Kieran’s artistic genius. The guy has a gift and whatever bike he’s working on, it’ll be better without the process being interrupted.
“Nah, I’ll go to him. Thanks, man.” Pushing off the rail, I head down the hall toward the side door. The paint shop is a two-bay garage that the boys sealed off and pimped out so that Kieran could have a studio to work his magic. The boys know better than to get into his space.
And that means the conversation I’m about to have with him will remain private.