Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Joey
I knew I was a fool to think I could hide any of this from Cormac, but I didn’t want to make a mountain out of a molehill, and that’s exactly what I’ve done. He swats my tits five times each before moving to my ass and upper thighs. That feels like it goes on forever, but it was only ten slaps on each cheek and each thigh before he took the gag and earplugs out. He’s standing in front of me now, pinching my nipples mercilessly.
“ Cailín , why are you being punished?”
“Because a lie of omission is just as bad as a lie said aloud, sir.”
“What did you omit?”
“Telling you the truth about somebody getting in my face and threatening me today, sir.”
“Why would that matter to me?”
“Because you care about me, sir. Because all you’ve tried to do since we met was take care of me and protect me. And you can’t do that if I’m not forthcoming or I only give you selective truths.”
“That’s right, cailín . Do you have any idea how worried I was when my guy told me a woman slapped you and grabbed your hair, and that some man a foot taller than you got in your face? That the only reason they backed down was because my guys walked up to you?”
“I know, sir. I’m sorry I didn’t volunteer it. Maybe part of me thought your guys already told you, so I didn’t have to.
“Is that really the type of relationship you want us to have?”
“No, not at all. I don’t want you to worry I’m going to hide things from you.”
The moment those words are out of my mouth, I want to cringe. There’re plenty of things I don’t want to share with Cormac. I know it’ll change things when I do. It’s inevitable I’ll have to. But all of this is still too new. I need to be sure we’re invested enough for it to be worth sharing family secrets. But I know if I wait too long, then he’ll feel betrayed.
“Sir, I’m sorry. It’s been a long time since I’ve depended upon anyone to take care of me. But I can’t tell you I want that, then not give you the chance to do it.”
“That’s right, cailín .”
He releases my nipples, and I moan. He cups my face in both hands as he gazes down at me. Now he’s the one who appears remorseful.
“You were right about an omission is as bad as a lie said aloud. I realize the hypocrisy in me saying that because sometimes I will lie to you. I’ll omit the truth, or I’ll tell you an untruth. But it’s always for the same reason. To protect you, to protect my family, and to protect the people who depend upon my family and me. It’s never just about me.”
“And my omission was just about me. I wanted to avoid upsetting you. But I should have known secrecy would do the exact opposite.”
“Do you know why I care about you, cailín ?”
“Because you enjoy my company, and you want us to continue getting to know each other?”
“That’s part of it. But do you know why I want us to continue to get to know each other?”
“Sir, I can only guess at this point. I don’t know.”
He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he steps around me again and brings the crop down across my ass, making me lurch forward. My core tightens, and my thighs flex to maintain my balance. He flicks it again and lands it across the other side. It smarts from where he’s already spanked me. With my legs pressed together, I can feel I’ve already gotten wet for him.
I can’t see him easily, but I can picture how his face must appear. The way the muscles in his arms flex each time he brings the crop down. I know my imagination doesn’t do it justice, but he’s truly the sexiest man I have ever seen.
As much as the pain from the spanking hurts, and as much as I hate this is coming from a punishment, his dominance over me arouses me. It’s emotionally fulfilling knowing he cares. It does something to me, submitting myself to his dominance. He could punish me without this conversation, without listening to me, without explaining. He could exert his will over me, but he doesn’t.
Even when I cede control to him, he still treats me as a partner, includes me in a conversation about what’s happening. Every day my trust in him grows. I’d like to think his trust in me continues to increase, and that today didn’t set us back.
“Sir, what can I do to earn your forgiveness?”
He steps before me, so I can see him again. He helps me to my feet and holds my upper arms.
“Joey, I forgave you the moment you admitted what happened, even before you apologized. You told me the truth. It matches what my guys told me. I understand why you did it, even if I don’t approve of it. This punishment isn’t to earn my forgiveness. It’s for you to understand the severity of the situation, so you get that when I give you my word about taking care of you, I mean it. That any threat to you is something I take gravely. I won’t tolerate anything or anybody who jeopardizes you, including yourself. That’s why you’re getting punished. But my forgiveness is always unconditional.”
“But how can I make amends, sir?”
“Cormac, and you’ve made amends by accepting your punishment. You could have refused. You could have argued with me. You could have walked out, but you didn’t. You keep placing your trust in me, and I want you to trust me as much as you think you do.”
“Thank you, Cormac, but I still feel like there’s something I should do, some way to repay you.”
“Joey, this isn’t a debt. My forgiveness comes with no cost, no stipulations. I forgive you because I care about you and because I know you’re a good person. You care about others. You’re conscientious and giving. You’re kind. You’re intelligent. You’re resourceful. You’re brave. You take risks that’ll probably shave years off my life, but I can appreciate why you do. I admire plenty about you. It’s not just my physical attraction to you, so I won’t hold this against you. You’re still getting used to life connected to a syndicate.”
This would be the perfect time for me to explain more about my life growing up in Mexico. Instead, I keep my mouth shut.
“You don’t have to do anything for me. You don’t have to service me to make things right between us. Like I said, you accepted the punishment, and that’s all we need for amends between us.”
“Thank you, Cor.”
He unties the Shibari rope, then moves my arms around and rubs my tits as blood rushes back into them. He draws me over to the edge of the bed and lifts me onto it. It’s not like I’m so short I couldn’t do it myself. It’s not like I would have to climb on like a little kid, but I enjoy being so much smaller than him, and I like how he can do that.
“Cormac, I don’t want you ever to think I take for granted that you care and that you take my well-being seriously. I don’t want you to think it goes unnoticed because it’s not just the security detail. It’s not just the punishments that show me you care. It’s in the little things, like just now. We both know I could get on that bed just fine—despite how short I am—but you made it just a little easier. In the few weeks we’ve been together, I’ve seen you do that repeatedly, and I don’t know if you’re a nurturer by nature. I don’t even know if you’re a protector by nature or by nurture, but whatever the reason, I know how fortunate I am to have you treat me like that. I appreciate how you take care of me and not just protect me. You do the small things to help me out, to make me feel important.”
“You are important, Joey. More so than anybody else I can think of outside of my family.”
We stare at each other for a long moment before we cup each other’s faces and lean in for one of our tender kisses. It doesn’t turn into anything more for once. It just remains languid.
A word pops to mind that’s wholly disconcerting. It’s not one I’ve ever thought of before for a guy I’ve dated or who’s been my Dom. Yet, for some reason, this one word seems to fit Cormac better than just sir.”
“Cor…You know?—”
I stumble over my words as I try to figure out how to broach this subject and whether he’ll run for the hills if I say what I’m thinking.
“Joey, you know you can tell me absolutely anything, especially if it’s something to do with us and improving our relationship.”
“You know even though I’m short, and I enjoy playing board games, and I enjoy letting you lead, I’m not a Little, right?”
He grins down at me, then tries to smother a chuckle, which sounds like he’s choking instead.
“ Cailín , never in my wildest dreams would I think the woman who tackled me, pushed me down the stairs to protect me, stood in front of two men with guns, and then argued with me over seeing a doctor is a Little. Nothing about that makes me think you believe or want to be any age other than you are. Not when we’re scening and not when we’re in the regular world.”
“But you are protective of me, and you call me little girl and little one. You tell me you want me to be a good girl. Do you see yourself as something other than just a regular Dom?”
He straightens and then leans back slightly as he looks at me.
“Joey, what I’d like to think of myself as is your boyfriend. I’d like to think we’re building a relationship that has a future. I wouldn’t have brought you anywhere near me or my family if I didn’t think there’s a strong probability we have a future together. I didn’t say this before because I didn’t want to freak you out, but I’m in this for the long haul, and I want to be your boyfriend. I’d like you to consider being my girlfriend. On top of that, we have a dynamic where I’m the protector, like you said. But I’m not a Daddy Dom. I don’t want age play or anything like that. I do like the idea of you calling me Daddy, if that’s what’s on your mind. I don’t think of myself as a paternal figure. I’m not trying to replace your father. I think of it as much a term of affection as it is when I call you cailín or little one or little girl. I think it fits because of our dynamic. Is that what you were thinking, too?”
“Yes, exactly. I couldn’t have described it better. I want to think of myself as your girlfriend. I already hoped you’re my boyfriend.”
“I’m glad we agree about that. Is there anything else you want to talk about?”
“Not right now, Daddy.”
The word rolls off my tongue with ease. It’s only considering how easy it is to say that makes me think of my father. I never even called him Daddy. It’s not the word we use in Spanish, so it conjures no image of him unless I take the moment to draw the comparison now.
“Who am I, little one?”
“Daddy. My daddy.”
“That’s right.”
He leans toward me, boxing me in with a fist on each side of me.
“Scoot back, little one.”
That voice. That tone. All of it. It excites me more than I can explain.
“I know you’re innocent in the syndicates’ way of life. But promise me before we move forward that you’ll come to me if you’re ever in doubt.”
“Cormac, I will. I don’t know syndicate life here in New York, but I trust you. I want you to know it wasn’t lack of trust today. Just the opposite. I thought I was taking care of you by not upsetting you.”
“I get that, little one.”
He presses a kiss to my lips before I scoot all the way back to rest against the pillow. He stands up and strips before climbing onto the bed.
“ Cailín , I’m about to have my way with you just the way I want it. It might be slow and smooth, or it might be fast and rough. You’re going to do exactly as you’re told because you’re mine, and I decide. You will not come until I tell you, you can.”
“Daddy, I’m a good girl. A good girl who needs to be fucked.”
He thrusts hard enough for me to grip the sheets in both hands. Holy hell. If he were any deeper, he’d be pushing up my throat.
“Yeah, Daddy…Make me a good girl…Daddy, do I make you feel good?”
I don’t have a clue what I’m rambling on about, but my dirty talk’s making him thrust harder and grunt.
“Daddy, I’ll be a good girl for that cock.”
The pace he sets steals my breath for a moment, but I’m here for it.
“Ooh, Daddy, you’re getting a little rough. Your cock is so big. Holy fuck!”
“And you’re so fucking tight, little one. You make it so hard to last.”
“I’d say you’re perfectly hard.”
I grin, but it ends on a moan. Neither of us speaks as we move together, our bodies in sync. I grasp his upper arms as he rocks into me. He lowers himself onto his forearm, and his left hand wraps around my throat. At first, it just rests there. As sweat beads on his brow, he squeezes incrementally. He’s observing me, attuned to everything about me. Just as I feel the need to gasp, and things threaten to get fuzzy, he releases me.
“Come!”
I scream as my orgasm rips through me. He tenses above me, his face a picture of concentration. Then he smiles, and it’s a ray of sunshine after a thunderstorm. He rolls off me, and that’s when we both look down.
Fucking hell.
We forgot the condom.
Cormac’s gaze meets mine as we both stare in horrified shock for a moment. I’ve always been incredibly careful and never had sex without a condom, even with guys I was in committed relationships with or Doms who I was exclusive with. I’ve also been on birth control since I left for college, so I’ve been doubly careful practically since I started having sex.
I inhale deeply and wait for Cormac to say something, unsure how pissed he might be. He must see my anxiousness because his hand reaches out and entwines our fingers.
“Little one, I get tested regularly as a member of my clubs. I can show you the results from just after Deirdre and I ended things, but I’ve never had sex without a condom, not once.”
“Same thing, Daddy. I’ve only ever had sex with condoms and only twice before I went on birth control. I have an IUD, so I’m not overly concerned about that, and I have to get tested for my club too. It’s been nearly six months, and I’m due for a new test, but I can show you the results from the old one.”
“I believe you, Joey. From the look on your face, I have no reason not to. More like stunned surprise, shall we say?”
“You don’t exactly appear unruffled either, Cormac.”
We lay looking at each other for another moment, then we roll onto our sides, and he wraps his arm over my waist. I slide my thigh between his, and his hand drifts down to my ass. I love how he cups it and holds onto it.
It’s one of the many ways he makes me feel precious. We go back to the gentle kisses from before. I could curl up and fall asleep right now, completely content, but my stomach grumbles and seems to trigger his because we laugh and sit up.
“Did you work up an appetite, little one?”
I glance down at his cock and lick my lips. It’s an insatiable appetite. He playfully pushes me toward the edge of the bed, and when I roll over, he gives my ass a playful tap, mindful it’s sore from my punishment.
Just like the other times when I’ve been here, I opt to remain naked after sex. We usually start our evenings when I’m here with me in lingerie I bring or just the bra I was already wearing. But once we’ve had sex a few times, I see no point to dressing again. If I get chilly, then he’ll offer me a shirt. It’s always a button down I leave open, allowing him to fondle me whenever he wants. With our around the clock dynamic, he has free use. With how often the man has his dick inside me, I’ve never felt so desired or desirable in my life.
We head out to the kitchen, and I grab the apron he bought for me—since I’m usually mostly naked—before we make dinner together. Safety first.
Our defining conversation was a week ago. We’ve been seeing each other for nearly a month now, and this is the happiest I’ve been in a long time. Even people at work have asked what’s different. I don’t know whether I’m supposed to tell people about Cormac specifically. I’m evasive, only saying I’m seeing somebody new, and it’s too soon to talk about it since I don’t want to jinx it, which isn’t entirely far from the truth.
Ever since my first punishment and then having sex without a condom, we’ve admitted how much better it is. I love the feeling of his cum on the inside of my thighs when I wake up in the morning. He orders me not to move after we have sex, so his cum remains in me like a brand. Sometimes he’ll command me to flex my pussy, so a bit dribbles out.
“Martha, do you have the file ready for the Horowitz case?”
I’m at work, and I can’t daydream any longer, or I’ll be late to a mediation.
“Yeah, it’s on my desk. Give me a moment, and I’ll grab it for you.”
Today is one of the few days when I need to head into Manhattan for work. Mostly, I’m able to stay on Staten Island for school and home visits. This is the case with the woman who screamed at me and slapped me. The court that has jurisdiction is in Manhattan. Once I have the file tucked away in my bag, I meet my guys outside.
Both of them and Cormac grumbled this morning when I insisted it would be much easier to take the subway into the city from the outer borough. Where I need to be in Manhattan makes parking even trickier than usual. There aren’t many garages in the area that’ll be empty at this time of day, and there’ll be next to no street parking. It’d be the eighth wonder of the world if there were.
That’s means one guy would have to keep circling the block because you can’t double park. If he’s doing that, then that leaves me with only one bodyguard. Just hinting at that practically sent Cormac into a conniption. He relented and agreed we could take the subway, but he had some very specific protocols he ran through with me, and I had to agree to.
It’s easy enough making our way into Manhattan, and fortunately, the mediation was fairly easy, at least until the exchange between the woman and me came up. We almost had a repeat of what happened out on the street. This time her attorney and the court officer convinced her it wouldn’t be in her best interest to take a swing at the court-appointed social worker who plays a significant role in determining whether she loses custody of her kid. I meet with two other social workers from different boroughs before I can call the day quits.
“Okay, Malcolm, I’m all done and ready to head out.”
I greet one of my guards who’s waiting outside the door. That was an interesting explanation I had to give when we arrived. I didn’t expect the guys to make it through security since I’m pretty positive they’re at least carrying knives if not a gun holstered at their lower backs. One look at their driver’s licenses made the security guards at the metal detector turn a blind eye. Once again, my don’t ask, don’t tell policy was in place. They haven’t been inside my office, so I haven’t had to explain them there. They’ve stayed close in the parking lot, but they haven’t had to come in with me.
Malcolm, who vaguely resembles Cormac except with dark hair and dark eyes—apparently, he’s an O’Rourke on Cormac’s dad’s side and their third cousin four times removed or something like that. Even Cormac couldn’t remember how they’re related—speaks into his earpiece, and we wait for Billy to show up.
With Billy in front of me and Malcolm behind me, I’m securely sandwiched between them while my left and right sides are unprotected. I know Billy’s hyper aware of what’s in front of us, and Malcolm frequently checks over his shoulder behind us. If anything were to happen, Cormac explained Billy would be my shield in front of me, and that if Malcolm pushes me to the ground, I’m not to resist. He’ll cover my body with his.
Fortunately, no one’s tested that, but I can tell from how vigilant they are and how loyal they are to Cormac, they wouldn’t think twice before putting themselves in harm’s way for me. It’s not the easiest pill to swallow; however, I won’t be unappreciative, since it makes me feel a lot more confident now that I’m with Cormac. While I don’t speak about him specifically at work, we’ve been out and seen in public together, so it’s no secret we’re involved. I don’t know who’s seen us and who it might matter to, but Cormac’s attentiveness to my safety lets me breathe easier.
The sidewalk is extra congested along this block because the opposite side is closed where they’re repairing the concrete. People jostle me from each side, and Billy and Malcolm barely allow two inches between us. When we reach a street corner, I’m practically knocked off my feet as a guy pushes me out of the way to avoid a cyclist he stepped in front of. Malcolm catches me and keeps me on my feet.
“Are you all right Ms. Bracero?”
“Yes, thank you. Just another regular day in the city.”
“Yeah, but the guy could have at least said excuse me.”
I grin at Billy as he looks back over his shoulder to speak.
“True, but not everyone grew up with the O’Rourke etiquette.”
It’s obvious good manners were drilled into most of these men probably since conception. I’m pretty positive they know they’d lose at least a finger or their tongue if Cormac believed they were anything besides perfectly courteous, professional, and respectful to me.
We make it down to the subway platform. It’s almost the evening rush hour, so it’s filling up even more than it was when we got off here a few hours ago. Malcolm stands beside me while Billy goes to the other door of the car we’re going to enter. Billy steps in quickly and assesses the occupants before looking over at Malcolm and nodding. I’m about to step into the car with Malcolm when a guy getting off slams into my shoulder, pushing me back three steps.
I try to get around him, but we do the stupid dance of each moving in the same direction. After it happens twice, my spidey sense is on alert. This doesn’t feel normal.
“Excuse me.”
I’m brusque as I point to my right and move to step around him. However, he pretends not to hear me as he pulls his phone from his pocket. The doors to the subway car close with both of my guards on it. I watch in mild panic as the train departs. The guy who was in front of me has now disappeared as I look around. He vanished into the crowd.
How convenient.
Something is massively wrong about this.
I slide my hand into my pocket and wrap my hand around my non-metallic pocketknife—the kind that doesn’t set off metal detectors. Cormac isn’t the only one who carries a weapon with him, but I’m yet to admit that to him. No doubt I’ll be telling him tonight. I sweep my gaze around the platform as it empties. I’m too exposed here to wait for the next car or for the guys to come back for me. I head up the escalator to the street level and make my way toward the building I just came out of.
From the corner of my eye, I recognize the guy who stepped in my way. He’s completely nondescript. He’s about as average as a man can be. Dirty blond hair, a bland shade of brown eyes, medium height, medium weight. Nothing memorable about him besides being unmemorable. Nothing about his appearance tells me if he might be from another syndicate.
He’s walking in the same direction as I am. As I approach the building, I notice a guy who flicks his gaze toward that man then me. My intuition screams to go the other way. I dart across the street, jaywalking and not giving a shit about it. Two cars honk as I weave past them. Luckily, traffic’s bad enough nobody’s driving that fast.
I spot the public library half a block away. Since I’m so short, I know I easily blend into the crowd. When I get to the library, I check over my shoulder as I run up the steps. Those men are still following me, now much more purposefully. However, they’re far enough behind I get into the building and bolt to the children’s section, then into the men’s restroom. Fortunately, from being here before, I know it’s a single. I hope nobody needs the changing station.
I came in here because I pray they assume it’s unlikely I would hide in a men’s room rather than a ladies’ room. I pull out my phone and tap it awake before tapping on Cormac’s contact. It rings four times before going to voicemail.
Come on, Cormac, answer.
I hang up and dial again. I go through this two more times before he answers.
“Joey, what’s wrong?”
“I got separated from my guards, Cor. I’m in the public library in Manhattan.”
“How’d that happen?”
“We were getting on the subway, and everything was fine until this guy getting off bumped into me and knocked me backwards. Then he stood in my way, blocking me each time I tried to get around him until the car doors closed. Billy’d already gotten on to check it out, and Malcolm had just stepped on as I got pushed backwards.”
“What did you notice about the guy?”
“That he’s perfectly boring. There’s nothing that makes me think Russian, Italian or Colombian. He doesn’t even make me think of any other type of Latino. He’s average, with no distinguishing features. When I was about to turn to go back into the building where I had my meeting to call you, I noticed another man standing at the bottom of the steps, who looked over at the same guy. I don’t know what’s going on, but I knew I couldn’t go past the second guy to get into the building, and I knew I didn’t want the first one coming up behind me. I crossed the street and made my way here.”
“You blended into the crowd?”
“Yes. But, Daddy, they followed me. I know they must be in here now. I’m hiding in the men’s room in the children’s section. I’ve got the door locked, and I’m as far away from it as I can be.”
I’ve whispered this whole time, so I don’t think anybody who might stand on the other side of the door can hear me.
“Stay right where you are, little one.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“It’ll take me a little while to get there because I’m in Queens right now, but my parents aren’t that far away. I’m going to send them to you.”
“No, Cormac. These guys might be dangerous. I don’t want your parents involved. I’ll just wait here until you can send other guards or call Billy or Malcolm and let them know where I am.”
“I’m doing that anyway, but I’m still sending my parents to you.”
“But your mom?—”
“Joey, don’t argue with me, and heaven help anybody who comes near you while my mom is around. They’d do well to fear her far more than they fear my father.”
That makes me smile since it reminds me of my parents. “All right, Cormac.”
“I’m going to get off the phone with you just long enough to call my parents and to call the guys, then I’ll call you back as soon as I’m done.”
“All right, Daddy.”
It’s only when we hang up I realize I’ve used the term of affection I’ve saved either for our scenes or playfully when we’re hanging out. I’m scared, and it just slipped out.
It feels like hours as the minutes tick by.
This reminds me of when I was nine, and I got separated from my parents in a plaza in a town a couple hours away from where I grew up. We were there because papá had a business meeting. Since it was on the beach, he brought my mom, Santiago, and me along with him. Santiago was already at the beach with a couple of guys who were sons of men papá was meeting with.
It was super crowded that day, and the sun was so bright it reflected off almost every surface, dazzling me when I tried to look around. When I stopped to tie my shoe, I had to let go of my mom’s hand. She stayed with me until I stood up, but then a couple of guys stepped between us.
My parents always told me if I ever got lost, I was to stay exactly where I was, and they would come back to find me. However, even at that young an age, I understood the men who separated me from my mom weren’t just regular townspeople. I knew they’d done it on purpose, so I ran.
It only took one look for me to know they were soldados —cartel soldiers. I didn’t know if they planned to take me to a sicario —hitman—or a sanguinario —“the blood thirsty one”— “the blood drinker”—the butcher who’d hack me to pieces and leave me for the flies and crows. It wasn’t like my young mind ran away from me. At nine, I was old enough to understand I was just as likely to wind up with a timador —intimidator—someone who’d extort my wealthy parents.
My worst fear, as I ran through those streets, was winding up with an escopalaminero . That’s a man hired to drug someone with scopolamine. I didn’t know the drug’s name back then, but I’d heard it would make someone sleepy enough to do whatever their kidnappers said, but it would keep them awake enough to answer questions. It was like a “truth serum.” I feared they’d ask me things I didn’t know the answer to, or worse things I knew but wasn’t supposed to. Then—either way—I’d definitely wind up with a sicario or sanguinario .
My family had men with us too, but they were too far away for me to get to them. I was too short even then for them to see me in the crowd. I remember weaving among the people and running down side streets to double back until I could get to where I knew we were headed. By the time I got there, two of my dad’s security guards were already in place outside the building.
I bolted straight to them. It was Paco, my dad’s most trusted security guard, who caught me when I almost tripped up the steps in my rush to get to them. They radioed my dad, and my parents came to get me surrounded by all their bodyguards. My mom wouldn’t let go of me for the next three hours even when we sat together safely in our hotel room.
After that, my father insisted I learn to defend myself. Over the years, there were times I got hurt while practicing, so I learned to come up with excuses for my teachers. Admitting I needed to learn to protect myself from would-be kidnappers would’ve brought far more attention than my periodic bruises and two cases of nursemaid’s elbow.
I’m waiting here in the bathroom for Cormac to come and get me, then hold my hand just like my mom did. I refuse to panic until there’s a reason to panic, but I’m pretty fucking close. This has unnerved the hell out of me because I can’t tell who the guys were. The second one I spotted was just as unremarkable as the first.
I freeze when there’s a knock on the door, then I pull my knife from my pocket and flick it open. I don’t make a sound until there’s another knock. I creep a bit closer to the door.
“Jocelyn, this is Kieran O’Rourke. I’m Cormac’s dad.”
“ Prátaí .” Potato.
“ Cabáiste .” Cabbage.
The two words are the code Cormac taught me. If I say anything different or I get any other response, it means it’s not safe to open the door. I unlock it, keeping the knife down at my side until I can peek through the small opening. I put it behind me and flick it closed, keeping it in my palm. It’s small enough to hide easily when I open the door all the way and step out.
“Are you all right, Jocelyn?”
“Yes, Mr. O’Rourke. Thank you.”
This man looks like he could be Cormac and Seamus’s older brother rather than their father. Their hair is almost the same shade of strawberry blond, but slightly darker. The man has the most piercing blue eyes I’ve ever seen. They’re just as impressive as Cormac’s, even if they don’t match in color.
A woman moves behind him, and I shift my attention to her. She’s positively stunning. Her russet hair falls in thick waves around her shoulders, and the exact hue of emerald-colored eyes as Cormac’s stare back at me. While his build, posture, and hair remind me of his dad, that intensity in his gaze definitely comes from his mom. I realize that what I thought was a penetrating stare a moment ago when I looked up at his dad makes the man look like a pussycat compared to the woman in front of me.
“Did they get near you? Did they touch you? Did they say anything to you?”
She rapid fires the questions, and all I can do is shake my head. Immediately, her entire posture relaxes, and she offers me the most maternal smile I’ve ever seen. I almost burst into tears when she opens her arms just slightly, and Cormac’s dad steps out of the way. I fall into her embrace, and she engulfs me in a hug. She’s a virtual stranger to me, yet this is almost as comforting as my mom hugging me.
From everything Cormac’s told me about his family, I feel like I already know his parents, but I’m definitely a stranger to them.
“Jocelyn, Cormac’s almost here. He’ll come straight inside, but I want to move you to another part of the library now that we’ve arrived. I don’t know where these men are or if they saw you come in here.”
I turn my head to look at Cormac’s dad as he speaks, but I don’t leave his mom’s embrace until she gives me a quick squeeze and a pat on my back. I step away only to have her wrap her arm around my waist, and Cormac’s dad’s arm goes around my shoulders. Not only is it a show of solidarity, but I realize they’re now functioning as my bodyguards. His mom is just as attentive as his dad, and it dawns on me just how deeply entrenched she’s been in the mob.
If her father was once the boss, and so was her brother, and now her nephew is too, this is a woman who’s seen some shit.
We head over to one of the study rooms that has a glass wall but solid door. When we get inside, Mr. O’Rourke positions himself to shield both his wife and me through the glass windows. Three guys materialize from the stacks and stand in front of the glass wall as well.
That doesn’t look suspicious or intimidating at all.
It’s not like they’re relaxed and shooting the shit. It’s clear they’re bodyguards.
“Jocelyn, Cormac told Kieran there was nothing distinguishable about either man. Is that what’s so memorable about them?”
Mrs. O’Rourke’s voice is quiet, but there’s no ignoring the woman when she speaks to you. It’s straight up no nonsense.
“Yes. There’s nothing that made me think they belong to a particular syndicate. I never heard either of them speak, so I couldn’t tell you if there was an accent. None of their facial features made me think of a particular stereotype. Do you think it’s possible they’re men someone hired to frighten me?”
“That’s entirely possible. I don’t know.” Her honesty is jarring and completely the opposite of how reassuring her hug was.
“The guy who was in front of me as he got off the train pulled out his phone as if to ignore me when he finally stepped around me. He only glanced at it. He didn’t answer it or anything. If he and the other guy spoke as they followed me, I was too far away to hear anything.”
Mr. O’Rourke twists to look back at us. “Could you describe anything about their clothing?”
I nod. It’s probably going to freak them out just how detailed I can be.
“Yes, I can.”
I’m just about to explain when I spot motion over Mr. O’Rourke’s shoulder. It’s Cormac, and he’s clearly on a mission. As much as I want to burst through the door and run to him, I know better than that. It’s the best way to make us all easy targets. So, I wait until he comes through the door. Then I’m in his arms. His parents step away, giving us a moment of privacy.
He twists us so his back is to everybody. Once again, shielding me like he always does, which is a good thing because the kiss we share is not anything anybody should watch. It’s a good thing he has a suit coat on that’s buttoned. Otherwise, the entire world would know just how hard he got in the space of two seconds. The moment he slides his hand up my skirt, he’ll know how wet he made me.
“ Cailín , I’m so glad you’re okay. That terrified me.”
“You and me both. Daddy, thank you so much for coming for me and for sending your parents.”
“Of course, little one, I’ll always come for you.”
He winks at the double entendre, and it melts the last dregs of fear. I waggle my eyebrows at him, and he relaxes, happy to see I’m not panicked.
“We’re going to go to my parents’ house. My brother and cousins are going to meet us there.”
“All right.”
I know it’s not like I have a choice, so it wouldn’t matter if that wasn’t what I wanted. However, I’ll go anywhere Cormac goes right now, as long as we stay together.
When he slips his hand into mine and intertwines our fingers, once again, I feel like I can breathe. That same sense of relief I had when I was a little girl and my mom took my hand after getting separated from my parents is back, but it only lasts for a moment before it morphs into something different because it’s Cormac I’m with.
As I look up at him, he brushes the pad of his thumb over my cheek and gazes down at me. We’re not alone, so neither of us is going to say what we’re thinking, but I think it’s the same thing. I hope he understands from my expression. He mouths the word “later,” and now I’m sure he does.
I dip my chin before he kisses me again, this one just a soft brushing of our lips. We head outside with a swarm of guards around us. Billy and Malcolm are waiting near a car, and Mr. and Mrs. O’Rourke have their own bodyguards, plus men who came with Cormac. It feels like a small army. I’m certainly not going to complain. His parents get into an SUV while Cormac and I climb into a town car.
Any time we’ve ridden in one, the privacy glass is always up before we even get in. This time is no different. We’ve fucked in the backseat of them numerous times now, and he’s reassured me we’re hardly the only couple in his family to do that, and that’s part of the reason they keep the fleet so pristine.
That made my nose curl and made him chuckle.
Right now, I know just like every other time we ride together, I should sit in my seat with my belt on. Irrationally, I feel far safer being in Cormac’s arms, having him hold on to me as I sit on his lap, than I do being by myself, even just a few inches from him.
We don’t say anything, just embrace, and that’s what I need right now. I need a respite from this and the opportunity to let my mind rest and my emotions settle because I can only imagine the hell that’s about to break loose once Cormac decides what to do next.