23. Saoirse
Saoirse
Selection of Traitors
Imanage to hold onto my tears until I’m well out of earshot.
Sacrilege! I had sex with my ex in the parish church.
I’m definitely going to hell for that. Or I’ll be stuck so long in Purgatory that it won’t even matter if Heaven waits at the end of it.
Tears of rage, but not defeat. I won that confrontation, and I’ll make damn sure that there’s never another one. The side of my hands hurt from hitting his rock hard muscles.
Patting my coat pockets, I find my phone and flick a text to Feargal. Finished. Come pick me up.
I drop a pin so he knows where I’m waiting on Windsor Terrace.
I can’t be alone with my thoughts. They’re… worrisome.
From the way my body tingles, knees shake, and pussy aches, I feel well and truly fucked. But my mind feels the same way.
Was I just complicit in my own mindfuck?
It felt so good to beat the shit out of him. He won’t want to be creeping up on me again after that.
Then why am I anxious about not seeing him again? I want to turn back and continue our argument. There are so many things I left unsaid that a stifling sensation threatens to throttle me.
It’s dizzy I’m feeling…
Feeling myself stagger, I groan and hold my chest.
Headlights. Car door opens.
“Mrs. M!” Feargal catches me as I start to fall.
The cold leather seat soothes my heat. He presses a button and the seat whirrs down.
“Mrs M? Do you need a doctor?”
“No… Take me…” Home? Home is where the heart is. That’s what Mam always said. “Back.”
Feargal pulls the seat belt over my curled up shape. I hug my knees and rock, willing myself not to weep.
When I sniff, I can smell one extra person in the car with us. An t-anam. I brought his smell back with me.
Like an invalid, I accept Feargal’s help getting out of the car back at Sunnyside. “Guest room… Don’t want to wake up Dec.”
He half-carries me to the bed and watches me fall onto it. “Must I send for Morag? She can help you undress, Mrs. M.”
Using my toes, I push the sneakers off my feet. “No.”
I can’t say I’m fine or that I don’t need help when it’s freaking clear that I do. But I’m so tired of lying to everyone around me—and to myself most of all.
I stay curled in a ball between the sheets and wait for the door to close. When it does, the sobs take over. I’m miserable and very much out of control.
What just happened? Throwing off the sheets I run to the bathroom.
My face is a roadmap of fuckery. Tear-stained eyes. Lips swollen from kisses. Red scruff blush on my chin, cheeks, and even the end of my nose.
I puff into my hand and catch the scent of man sweat. I know damn well where that came from.
Quickly, I strip.
My pussy pouts like Exhibit A. Thank God I wasn’t out of my mind enough to climb into bed with Declan dragging all this evidence with me.
I reek of spunk and juice and another man’s perspired desire.
It’s instinctive to go to the shower and flick the handle up. But I don’t go and stand under the blast of spray.
Thoughtful, I push the handle down again and go lock the bedroom door instead.
When I lie on the bed again, I don’t curl up. I unfold.
I think I won. I fucked him and got the most amazing orgasm out of it.
I learned that a woman doesn’t always have to lie on her back during sex. I also learned that a woman doesn’t have to play with her clit during—or after—sex for an orgasm.
There was something delicious about rubbing one out over Finn’s washboard abs.
But the satisfaction I got from beating the crap out of him afterward felt just as good.
There’s no need for drama or sorrow. Just turn the page on Finn O’Shea and continue living my best life.
I’m sure I’ll have sweet dreams tonight. Fingers—and legs—crossed.
***
My husband sits at the head of the table with his trusted wife—me—by his side. I’ve decided to build a firewall between sex and business. I can’t let my body overrule my head.
“I need volunteers to step up and run Fourth Avenue for me until the O’Shea legal matters are wrapped up.” Declan stares down at the first page of his notebook and then at the men seated around the table.
Silence. Hm. Everyone’s surprisingly reluctant.
Could it be that I’m not the only one who’s seen a ghost recently?
“Have you all heard rumors about how Eamon died?” There. I’ve said it.
Rian volunteers his opinion. “Not rumors. It’s very much a fact.”
A few of the captains are still in the dark. Time for me to illuminate them.
“You mean the fact that Eamon was shocked to death when someone sprang a surprise on him… Possibly before they carved up his face, and got rid of his driver’s body with the car?”
Declan shoots me a noteworthy side glance. “This is my meeting, Saoirse. Don’t make me call you out.”
I hang my head, but it’s only to hide my smile.
Aiden Brent, a campaigner and lobbyist with kickbacks and donations running where his blood should be, offers some news.
“The locals have started to mention an underground cage fighter they call An t-anam who’s making the rounds. They say he’s formidable as a man and unbeatable as an opponent.”
Declan’s eyes narrow. “How did that information cross your path, Aiden?”
Aiden’s no pushover. He’s a career politician. “It crossed my path because my son thinks he’s a gangster. He admires the culture. He told me about it.”
“Your son got in to watch an underground cage fight?” The question bursts out of me. No way would Aiden’s fancy son get close to a fight.
“He heard about it.” Aiden sniffs. “I can’t stop the boy from admiring streetwise thugs.”
“You don’t need to be streetwise when you don’t live on the streets, am I right?” But I mutter it low enough to not register.
Declan taps his notebook with a pencil. “Come on. I want a volunteer. It’s only for a couple of years.”
Another captain lifts a hand. “What about security? Can we arrange it for whoever takes the job?”
I’ve heard the whispers. How the gravel in the parking lot that serves the O’Shea pub is still stained with blood. I’m starting to have a really good idea about who put it there.
“Dec?” I caress his wrist like the adoring wife I’ve always pretended to be.
He gives my hand a pat. “Yeah?”
“I think you should give the job to Feargal. He’s a good lad. Did his time in clink without a peep. Father O’Malley speaks well of him. A good Catholic is who we need running Fourth Avenue.”
Rian interrupts. “He’s doing a grand job of driving you around. He can keep doing that.”
Rian hates being my driver. He’s got big plans for himself.
Whenever I look at Rian, I remember how he found me at the docks and dragged me back to Woodside to be punished and humiliated.
“No. He can’t. Feargal is a good soldier and deserves a promotion.” I lean over and whisper in Declan’s ear. “Feargal’s never made a fuss about Cousin Liam. He should be rewarded for that. Plus, if he goes the same way as Eamon, we can afford to lose him.”
My husband nods and swipes a line through the note book page. “Give the Fourth Avenue job to Feargal. Next.”
***
I should tell Dec about Finn. That’s what I keep reminding myself to do.
Not what happened in the church. Just that Finn might be back.
Like the fucking Terminator.
We’re lying in bed together. Declan started having sex with me, but I was definitely the one to finish it. And yes, I climbed on top and fucked his brains out.
“Where d’you learn that?” he wants to know.
“Girl talk.”
Declan turns on his side to watch me. “With the wives? Holy Mother!”
That gets a giggle out of me. “No. With Morag. It just slipped out. I haven’t scandalized myself, so don’t worry.”
“Hm.” He’s falling asleep.
Should I tell him about Finn? No. That man is my problem, and mine to take revenge on.
“Do you ever get the feeling that we’ve surrounded ourselves with a selection of traitors, Dec?”
Another grunt. “What the feck? Just as I’m drifting off, you come up with shite like that, Saoirse.”
I’m talking shite, am I? “They’d sell their own Mams in the rush to grab power. But it’s interesting that the name of O’Shea still has the strength and honor to make them pause.”
Dec’s properly awake now. “It was your idea to give the men a piece of the poke to stop them selling information for cash.”
Kicking off the sheets, I go to the bathroom. “You can’t buy loyalty. A man needs more than money to prove his worth. We Irish have always needed to be part of a cause. That’s your problem, Declan… you’ve turned the family into a business now that there’s no war.”
In the bathroom, I stare at my face in the mirror.
I should tell him our most dangerous enemy is back.
But not until I can forget how I allowed Finn to give me that long-awaited orgasm.
And how it set my body alight.
My body’s betrayal still makes my flesh shiver.