Chapter 17 Katie
KATIE
If he didn’t think I was crazy before, I bet he does now.
Yet here I am. In the embrace of a man I hardly know anything about. A man who scares the living shit out of me as much as he makes me feel secure. And I’m staring at his fucking gun.
It’s a sleek, black handgun resting on the nightstand beside us. I can’t tell much else about it; I’m not exactly a gun person. It looks like the kind drawn in a law-and-order episode.
I don’t even know what we are. Aiden claimed that I was his, but that begs the question: What on earth does that even imply?
Is he my boyfriend? Is this exclusive? I know that if most women saw their partner produce a handgun out of the blue, they’d be leaving a trail of dust behind as they ran for the door.
But for some reason, I don’t feel that fear.
There’s a strange sense of trust between us, even though I can’t quite put my finger on why.
Maybe it’s the way he looks at me or the way he always seems to know what I need before I do.
He’s been unbelievably understanding and supportive of me since finding out about my past trauma.
He has never judged me or made me feel ashamed, which is something I’ve never experienced before.
It’s like he sees the real me—the vulnerable parts that I’ve kept hidden for so long—and accepts them without hesitation.
It’s something that makes me question his sanity.
Every “normal” person I’ve encountered flees from me.
Either they get a glimpse of the real me when my mask slips, or they discover minor details about me and bail, but not Aiden.
He has never treated me like damaged goods; instead, he seems to take a page from Wabi Sabi, covering all my broken bits in gold and making them beautiful.
“I can put it away if it bothers you,” he mumbles into the pillow, and most likely my hair.
His fingers trace over the sunflower tattoo on my right forearm; he knows where all of my scars are hidden beneath the vibrant ink.
“It doesn’t bother me.” It should, but it doesn’t. I look at the sleek body of the handgun; it is beautiful in its own twisted way. Much like the man with his arms wrapped around me. “You never told me why you needed it.”
“Never bring a knife to a gun fight. Besides, it’s always good to be prepared.”
“Prepared for what?” I wriggle out of his hold enough to turn and face him. “You said you don’t do drugs; you’re not involved with their trade. So why would you need a gun? Why did men show up at your restaurant with guns? What are you involved with? It’s clearly dangerous.”
His lips curve into a wry smile, his eyelashes fluttering open to reveal something dark beneath his gaze. “Anything else you want to ask?”
Yeah. Why are you so stupidly handsome in the morning?
“Why do you drive a middle-class car when we both know you’re worth a small fortune, or more?”
Aiden raises an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes.
“Ok, bug,” he pushes himself up on the bed and leans back against the headboard.
“I prefer to keep a low profile. Driving a flashy car would attract too much attention and potentially put me in danger, plus I’m not really in the mood to have my car stolen on the regular.
” He chuckles, running a hand through his tousled hair.
“Fair point.” I cannot very well argue with that logic, can I?
“Those men that came to the restaurant work for
David Walsh’s gang. Apparently, one of the men that went missing from my club is Walsh’s cousin. They wanted information.”
Everyone in Ireland, never mind Dublin, has heard of Walsh’s gang terrorising the streets. Though I couldn’t pick one gang member out of a line-up from a mile away, clearly. My skin crawls at the thought of being anywhere near those two arseholes in the club. I knew something was off about them.
“They like to intimidate but generally don’t act when someone is not afraid of them.
They showed up at my restaurant with guns, so I took a gun with me for protection.
I’ve heard stories of their violent tendencies and didn’t want to take any chances.
As soon as they saw that I was armed, they backed off.
” Aiden stifles a yawn and cracks his neck.
Also a fair point.
“So, what do you do then? If not drugs, skin trade?”
“Fuck off!”
I don’t even know where that idea came from, to be honest. I blame Maria and her obsession with Zade what’s-his-face.
“Money laundering?”
“That’s a grey area,” he points a calloused finger at me. “I prefer to think of it as financial management, finding creative ways to maximise profits and minimise taxes.”
Something about Aiden’s response makes me uneasy. “That’s not it, is it? There’s something else.”
His smile fades, leaving nothing but the sharp angles of his jaw and cheekbones. He sucks on his teeth, clearly grappling with what he should tell me, if anything. “It’s a long story, bug.”
I cross my arms over my chest, growing more suspicious by the second.
“You’re sexy when you’re angry,” he leans in for a kiss and gets the cheek. “Fine,” he sighs, pulling away. “I told you about my dad and what kind of arsehole he was.”
I nod sympathetically, urging him to continue.
“You could say he is the reason this all started. According to éabha, I developed a saviour complex. After he died, éabha got into trouble; she was assaulted, and I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.
She begged me not to get involved, but I couldn’t let the prick get away with it, so I found him and confronted him.
It escalated into a fight, and I ended up getting arrested for assault. ”
That explains the articles I found on him when he was seventeen.
“Do you regret it?”
He doesn’t even have to think about it. “No. I’m sorry I didn’t kill the prick for what he did to her.
” He stares at the Celtic knots tattooed on his right hand, leading up to a full sleeve that stops at the halfway mark on his neck.
“There was another who came for her two years later. Then I noticed that half the girls I grew up with were being abused in some way, shape, or form. Not always sexually, but it felt like a disgusting rite of passage for them. I couldn’t just stand by and watch anymore.
So, I made it my mission to protect them, to be their voice and their shield against the monsters lurking in the shadows, and I’ve been doing it ever since. ”
“H-how do you do it? Face men like that?”
The smile he gives me is devoid of any warmth or amusement. “By being the bigger monster.”
My body betrays me. The shiver that runs down my spine causes a full-on shudder. It’s something he seems to register before I do.
“I’ve frightened you.” His hand reaches out to touch my arm, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone who claims to be a monster. “You have nothing to fear from me, Katie. I won’t ever hurt you.”
I crawl onto his lap and rest my head on his shoulder. A move of reassurance, I’m not exactly sure if I’m trying to reassure him, or me. “You hurt those men?”
“I do.”
Do you kill them?
I’d never expect anyone to openly admit to being a murderer, but I’ve got an inkling that if I did voice that question, Aiden would answer me honestly. It’s something I don’t think I’m prepared to hear.
I nuzzle closer to Aiden and feel the warmth of his body against mine. My arms slide around his back, and I hold onto him tightly. He doesn’t feel like a monster. Even after his admission, I feel safe in his arms. Perhaps he’s damaged just as I am. What is that saying? Like calls to like?
Aiden has done some brutal things; I don’t need to know the sordid details.
I know, as someone who has been victimised and assaulted, that whoever he went after deserved every ounce of pain he inflicted upon them.
I guarantee that they never showed an ounce of remorse for what they did to their victims.
Aiden said that not everything illegal is wrong.
And in this case, I agree with him.
“Aiden?” I feel him stiffen beneath me. I lift my head to look at him. My gaze drops to the ink on his neck, and I trace the intricate patterns with my fingertips. “What are we?”
His warm breath grazes my ear. “You’re mine.” His teeth tug lightly on my earlobe.
“Your what, though? Your possession? Your fuck buddy? Is this thing open?”
“The fuck it is,” Aiden growls, his grip on me tightening.
Well, I suppose that’s a start.
“It might be the neurodiverse brain here,” I chuckle. “But I need a little more clarity than that. I don’t do well with vague answers. Are we in a committed relationship? Are we exclusive? I need to know where I stand; otherwise, I’m running around like a footless chicken.”
“You mean a headless chicken?” Aiden smirks, knowing one of my stims is repeating random lines from movies or books. The fact that he knows which King Julian quote I’m referencing intrigues me.
I raise an eyebrow, amused by Aiden’s response. “Eh no, how is a chicken supposed to run around without a head?”
Aiden’s eyes narrow to slits. “How does it run around without feet?”
“I’m not the chicken, Maurice; why are you asking me all these questions?” Oh my God, I’ve stopped masking with him! This is huge!
Aiden chuckles, his eyes softening. “You,” he grabs me by the back of the neck and hauls my lips to his. “Are mine.” I wrap my legs around his waist, my skin prickles with gooseflesh as his tongue glides across my lips.
I wish I could enjoy this man the way I want to.
I wish my body would let go of the trauma and allow me to experience Aiden to the fullest. I know from his kiss, from the way my nerve endings sing in response to his touch, and from the way I desperately want to feel him inside me that this man would fucking ruin me in the best way possible.
“And I’m all yours,” Aiden growls against my lips. “And if anyone attempts to touch my girl, I’ll tear them apart, limb by limb.”
“So…” I can’t help but smile against his swollen lips. “We’re exclusive then?”