12. Fintan
FINTAN
I stand in the back corridor of the club with a cigarette I don’t light and a temper that keeps getting worse.
The place is already awake below street level. Men move equipment. Money changes hands. Security checks names against lists. The ring sits in the centre of it all, cleaned after last night, velvet ropes repaired where Donnelly went through them.
No blood left.
That doesn’t mean anything is clean.
Tiernan hasn’t arrived yet.
Lorcan is already inside, a drink near his hand, although he won’t touch it.
He is a presence that everyone needs to see to know that their illicit affairs inside the club are protected.
I don’t like him bringing her here. He doesn’t do restraint when obsession takes root.
He calls it ownership, strategy, or protection.
Sometimes it is. Most of the time, it’s his need dressed up in a better suit.
I roll the unlit cigarette between my fingers and watch two of our men check the side exit. Five minutes until I see her again, until I know that what Lorcan did to her earlier hasn’t broken her.
I toss the cigarette and head toward the main room.
The atmosphere shifts when I enter. Men in tailored suits keep pretending they aren’t watching us out of the corners of their eyes.
Women laugh too loudly at private tables.
Fighters in the prep area roll their necks and shake out their hands while trying not to look at the Keane sitting in a booth near the bar.
They all notice.
They always do.
Lorcan has one arm stretched along the back of the booth seat, his suit immaculate, his face unreadable. He looks relaxed, which means he is anything but. His eyes move over the room once, and every man in it remembers how badly he hurt Donnelly last night.
It’s a plus. Fear saves time.
I cross to him and sit. “Is this the best idea you’ve ever had?”
His stare cuts to me. “No. The best idea I’ve ever had was railing her so hard, she came all over my dick earlier. Any more questions?”
It’s typical Lorcan. He thinks that will shut me up. It won’t.
“She made me come all over my hand in her flat this morning.”
His gaze hardens, but he says nothing while he waits for an explanation. It amuses me. It also pisses me off that it came to this. I wasn’t going to say anything, but he thinks he is so superior. He isn’t.
“Before you start snarling. I asked her to show me what I missed. I paid her. She named the price. I didn’t touch her.”
Lorcan’s jaw works once. “She agreed to you jerking off to her?”
“She told me to touch myself.”
His eyes flash.
I enjoy that too much.
Lorcan doesn’t move, but the air between us shifts. Men at the nearest table suddenly find their drinks fascinating. They know better than to listen, but they can’t help themselves.
Lorcan notices. His stare alone is enough for them to get up and move. Fast.
I wait until they’re gone and then look back at my brother. “You fucked her after taking her to the penthouse. You can’t get on your high horse about what I did.”
He chuckles. “I’m not getting on anything. She is ours, Fin. You can do whatever the fuck you want to her. But remember that you have to share.”
“Shouldn’t you remember that?”
“I have no problem with sharing. You should be saying that to Tiernan.”
“You told him to cuff her to him. You know what that will be doing to his cock right now,” I say and sit back with a laugh.
“He won’t act on it. Not yet. He likes the slow burn.”
I ignore that and nod at the ring. “Who are you planning to fight with tonight?”
“Depends who pisses me off first,” Lorcan says.
“That’s a long list.”
“It always is.”
His gaze drifts to the back entrance and narrows.
I look over. Tiernan has arrived with Elle cuffed to him.
She is dressed in a red dress that skims over her hot little body and a diamond necklace that Lorcan decided was a must-have.
Her gaze is down. She is breaking slowly.
Her defiance is deflated and will soon be nothing but a distant memory.
My cock kicks hard at seeing her that way.
Lorcan’s expression doesn’t change, but his fingers tap once against the back of the booth. Once. That’s all.
Tiernan brings her to the booth and stops at the edge of it. “Delivered.”
Elle’s eyes flick up for a second, landing on Lorcan before shifting to me. They don’t stay. She looks away again.
“Sit,” Lorcan says.
Tiernan slides in first because the cuff gives her no option but to follow. She sits beside him, spine straight, knees together, free hand in her lap. The red dress rides up her thighs when she moves. She tugs it down once, then seems to remember she has an audience and stops.
“That dress looks good on you,” Lorcan murmurs.
Her gaze snaps up to him. “Tiernan helped me dress.”
Lorcan’s hand clenches into a fist on the back of the booth. Loose but noticeable. “Well, you are a little dollie then, aren’t you?”
“Jealous?” she asks.
He leans forward and grips her chin tightly. “Don’t forget whose cock was buried so far up your cunt, you came all over it earlier.”
“Hard to forget,” she says, lowering her gaze again. “I belong to all of you. You all get to dress me.”
That nearly undoes me. She lifts her head, and her gaze follows, landing on me this time. I hold her stare longer than I should.
She looks tired, but not broken. Not yet. The fight is still there, pushed down under fear, silk, diamonds, and Lorcan’s fuck. It sparks when she looks at me. It remembers the money on her counter and my hand on my cock while she stood naked in a freezing flat and made a choice.
That was different.
“Do you know why you are here?” I ask.
“I’m not interested in entertaining any of you while cuffed to one of you.”
Lorcan’s eyes settle on her, sharp and possessive. “You don’t need to entertain us tonight. You need to watch and learn.”
Her throat works. The diamonds shift with the movement. “Watch what?”
“The consequences of getting on my bad side,” Lorcan says.
I look toward the prep area. Two fighters stand near the ring, both stripped down, hands taped. One is one of ours, a reliable bruiser named Kells. The other is new. Too pretty.
I nod once and the bell dings.
The fight starts. Elle’s eyes widen as the two men circle each other and Kells jabs. Hard.
Elle flinches at the first hit.
The new fighter returns with a sharp hook that catches Kells on the cheek. The sound cracks through the room, and the crowd reacts at once. Money moves. Men shout. Women laugh, bright and cruel, enjoying the violence because they can leave it behind when the night ends.
Elle can’t.
That’s the point.
Her free hand curls into the hem of the red dress. She doesn’t tug it down this time. She just holds on.
“Don’t have to stare at the floor,” I say.
Her eyes flick to mine. “I don’t want to see this.”
I lean forward and turn her head to face the ring. “Watch it, Elle.”
She stiffens under my hand, but she looks.
“Good girl.”
She flinches again, this time at my words.
Kells takes another hit, then another, letting the pretty one gain confidence. That’s his mistake. Confidence kills men quicker than fear ever does. The new fighter grins through a split lip and steps in too close.
Kells ends it with three hits.
A jab to blind him. A hook to turn him. A brutal right that drops him flat to the canvas.
The room erupts.
Elle jerks back against the booth, and the cuff chain pulls tight between her and Tiernan. He doesn’t move to ease it. He watches the ring with bored interest, as if a man didn’t just go down hard enough to make his skull bounce.
The new fighter doesn’t get up.
Kells stands over him, breathing steadily, blood on his cheek. There is no referee. No one to manage this situation. That’s one of the rules: there are no rules.
The crowd roars louder. Money changes hands. A few men curse. One laughs like he’s just seen the best thing in the world.
Elle’s face loses more colour.
“You brought me here to watch this?” she asks, voice thin.
“No,” Lorcan says. “That was the warm-up.”
Her head turns slowly toward him.
“Meaning? You expect me to get in there and fight?”
He snorts. “No. You would die, and I would be annoyed.”
“Then what?”
“You are going to see Lorcan fight,” I say, leaning my elbows on the table. “You are going to watch every single second, so you know exactly the kind of man he is.”
“I already know,” she says, looking at me.
“You have no idea, Barbie.”
That flushes her cheeks. “Barbie?” she grits out.
I let one side of my mouth turn up, which infuriates her even more.
Lorcan rises from the booth.
The room responds before he does anything else. Conversations dip. Men turn. Security straightens. The fighter Kells looks over from the ring and steps back, giving space to the inevitable.
Elle notices the shift. Of course she does. She isn’t stupid. She tracks every reaction, every man who averts his eyes, every woman who suddenly stops laughing.
“What is happening?” she asks.
Lorcan removes his jacket and hands it to one of our men without looking.
“A lesson,” I state.
“In what?”
He starts unbuttoning his cuffs.
“Consequences.”
Her lips part, but no sound comes out. I sit back and study her reaction as Lorcan removes his shirt and steps into the ring.