2. Keir
Keir
One week later…
T he bullet with my boss’s name etched in the side rolled around the center console, my every turn making it rattle louder and louder in the cup holder. I’d known it was only a matter of time before Finnan pissed off the wrong person. I just hadn’t realized it would be so damn soon.
Pressing down on the accelerator, I sent the Rover hurtling down the road, my horn blaring at any driver that was in the way.
As I ran a hand through my hair, tugging at the ends, I caught a whiff of Molly’s cunt on my fingers, and my spent dick gave a pathetic twitch.
Glaring down at it, I tapped on the steering wheel restlessly.
Though I wanted nothing more than another cigarette, I’d rolled and smoked my last one after I’d chased Jynx.
I didn’t know where she’d gone, but I knew she had to be close. I also hoped she heeded my warning.
You’d better keep running unless you want me to find you. And I swear … I will find you.
I pulled into the compound with a squeal of tires, soon muffled by the gravel on the long drive.
Tall dark hedges soared alongside the car, falling away as I reached the turning circle where several of the clan’s Rovers were parked.
Pulling the SUV into a free space, I killed the engine, grabbed the bullet and climbed out.
Before I knew what was happening, I was slammed against the side of the car.
My anger broke from the tether on which I chained it, in a primal reaction to the violence shown against me.
My teeth bared, I fought against the weight pressed against me, my vision shifting from red to black as the rage took over.
“Where the fuck is it?” a dark voice roared. “Keir, where the fuck is it?”
“Finnan, let him go,” another voice answered. This one was familiar—Caolan. “Killing him won’t get you the bullet any faster.”
“No, but once he’s dead, it will roll from his cold, stiff fingers.”
“But you won’t know anything else,” Caolan replied, exasperation clear in his tone. “You’re being a fecking arsehole. Let him go.”
The pressure eased as Finnan snapped back, “Have you forgotten who you’re talking to?”
I used the distraction to escape his hold, violently shoving Finnan away. The Clan Boss stumbled back a step before straightening, his slitted eyes narrowed on my face.
“Where the fuck is it?” he snarled.
I tossed it at him before brushing past and stalking into the house.
Though a house was a stretch as far as the description went.
It was a motherfucking compound—our stronghold against any and all threats against the clan.
These stone walls had seen some shit in their time, and every bullet hole and chip in the stone was a testament to the strength of the Mac Tíre Clan.
Once inside, I climbed the oak staircase that led up to the first floor and marched into my bedroom.
I stared at the paintings of the ocean that hung on the walls.
Gazing at the swirling white water until the rage that bubbled and churned inside me had began to dissipate.
When I felt somewhat settled, I crossed the rug and sank into one of the armchairs placed around the bookshelf. I’d learned early I needed a calm place to come to if my anger ruled me. And ever since finding that bullet, I felt as if I was spinning out of control.
Reaching into my pocket, I fished out my rolling papers and pouch of tobacco. The process of rolling a cigarette occupied my hands and gave my mind something else to focus on. I fucking needed that right now.
As I lit the end of the cigarette, the scent of Turkish tobacco filled the room, and I let it out on a steady stream of smoke.
Swapping my cigarette into my other hand, I brought my fingers to my nose and inhaled.
The scent of Molly’s pussy was almost gone, merely the ghost of her left behind.
It was too bad she couldn’t have been a fuck to get my mind off Fallon.
Now she was on the clan’s radar, and that could only end in disaster. She just didn’t know it yet.
There was a knock on my door, and Caolan stuck his head inside. “Finnan has called a meeting.”
After dragging in one final, long inhale from my cigarette, I threw it onto the cold hearth.
“What the fuck happened?” Caolan asked as I stepped from the room and shut the door.
“I’ll explain in the meeting,” I replied, doing my best to shake off the dread that sat heavy on my shoulders. Together, we walked down the long hall toward Finnan’s office. I took a seat in front of his desk, keeping my hands busy by rolling another cigarette.
“You aren’t smoking that shit in here,” Finnan said in a brisk tone, sliding into his chair behind the desk.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I replied, flashing him my good boy smile. It was the one I used ninety-nine percent of the time; the mask to hide the real me.
“Where the fuck is everyone else?” my boss muttered, his fingers tapping an agitated rhythm on the desktop.
“Caolan was behind me. I don’t know about everyone else.” I finished rolling the cancer stick and placed it on the desk in front of me.
Voices in the hallway filtered in from outside the office, as Quillin, Shay, and Caolan filed through the door, propping themselves against the walls.
Orin entered the room next, followed closely by Grayson.
The relationship between Finnan and his former Warlord was still tense.
Everyone felt it like an electric wire snaking across the floor.
I wondered briefly where Fallon was, then I remembered I had no right to think about her. She wasn’t my woman—no matter how much I wanted her to be.
“Right, now we’re all here, I can get this motherfucking meeting started.” Finnan slammed the bullet on the desk and glared at me. “Tell me everything that went down.”
Blowing out a breath, I told them about fucking Molly, and that after she had left, I noticed the bullet in the cup holder.
“How was the pussy?” Quillin asked with a shit-eating grin.
“Shut the fuck up,” Finnan snapped, beating me to it. “This shit is serious. This is a direct threat. A declaration of war against me and the clan. We need to go on the offensive and find out who the hell delivered it.”
“We know who delivered it,” Quillin said. “It was Keir’s piece of arse. Should we be concerned you’re sleeping with the enemy, Chief?”
“Fuck you,” I muttered, my fingers itching for the cigarette.
Finnan, knowing me too well, eyed me in warning, wordlessly reminding me not to disrespect his office like that.
“The most logical enemy is the fucking Bèar Clan. Mannix is still irritated that Orin’s woman killed one of his clan members. ”
“Those fuckers deserved that and more,” Orin growled in response.
“The only way we’ll know for sure is when they come for us,” Finnan said. “And I have no interest in sitting here holding my dick until then.”
“What are you thinking?” I asked, glad for the distraction.
“We’re still without a Warlord. We need to fill that position.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Caolan straighten. He was the most logical choice. His loyalty to the clan was unmatched. “Who?” he asked.
“Don’t know yet,” Finnan replied, his gaze darting away.
I sat a little straighter in my seat. I knew that tell, as I’d been running with Finnan and Torin since I was twelve, and I knew when the fucker was lying. It was something I’d have to bring up at another time, as the real issue was the one that sat shining on his desk.
Finnan continued, “Caolan, make sure we’re ready for another attack on the compound. Everyone needs to have a rifle or pistol within arm’s reach anywhere inside these walls. Am I understood?”
“Understood,” the Master replied.
“Good. Now, get the fuck out of here. Make sure everything is buttoned up tight. That includes Velvet, I don’t want any of our girls being collateral damage. Their pussies are worth too much to the clan.”
Everyone shuffled out of the room, discussions about the firepower they were going to set up going on in hushed tones.
I had risen from my seat when Finnan snapped, “Keir, sit your arse down.”
Leaning back in his chair, Finnan finally let his hard exterior slip just a little. I could see the tightness around his eyes and how tired he was in the slant of his shoulders. He ran a hand through his hair, blowing out an exhausted breath.
“Is everything okay?”
“Shit’s never okay,” he replied, reaching into his office drawer and bringing out a bottle of whiskey. He placed two crystal tumblers beside it and unscrewed the cap. “It’s the anniversary of my Da’s death soon.”
I did the mental math. “In another four months, right?”
Finnan knocked back both glasses of whiskey, refilling them before nudging one toward me. “Right.”
“Why are you thinking about that, Finnan? Has it got something to do with finding a new Warlord?”
He leveled me with a hard stare.
Pulling the glass closer, I took a sip, then muttered. “Whatever, you tight-lipped bastard.”
“The woman who left this bullet…” he started, drawing my attention—and my dick’s, let’s be honest.
“What about her?”
“Do you know where to find her?”
“I don’t think she’d be stupid enough to hang around after what she’s done.”
“You know how to find people, Keir. You’ve always been too fucking smart for your own good.”
That was true. There wasn’t a digital footprint I couldn’t hunt down, and I had Molly’s number stored on my phone. Granted, it could have been a burner phone, but she was a fucking nursing student. She was tethered to Galway until she finished her studies and I could fucking find her if I wanted.
“I’ll track her down.”
Finnan nodded. “And when you find the little cunt who threatened me, you’ll bring her here. We need to know what she does.”
“And if I can’t find her?”
“That’s not an option.” His tone was filled with menace, and the look in his eyes was not normally one he leveled at me.
Finnan was a violent man—a beast—barely contained by society’s expectations for civility.
He simply didn’t give a fuck about them.
Nobody else knew that about him, though.
Like me, he wore a mask. He made sure nobody knew the real Finnan Quinn.
With a rap of my knuckles against the desk, I rose and left the room, determined to find Jynx and demand she answered my questions.