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Furniture had been cleared in the center of the room, forming a circle that the other men surrounded. Finnan was going to take his pound of flesh physically, which I supposed was better than being straight up introduced to a bullet.
Finnan took off his jacket and started unbuttoning his shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders. I did the same, peeling off my button-down and exposing the room to my scar and tattoos. Finnan’s eyes dropped to the raised skin on the front of my shoulder, the one I had gotten in defense of his life.
“How could you have done that to me?” he asked, anger igniting his words. “You, who were my most loyal soldier. You took a fucking bullet for me. My trust isn’t given lightly, Grayson, and you’ve gone and shit on it because of a fucking woman!”
I had protected his body—almost costing me my life. “Let me explain.”
“There’s nothing to explain!” he roared. “You’ve been fucking my fiancée. How long has it been going on?”
I felt more than saw the ripple of surprise that went through the other members of the clan.
“Finnan—”
“Did you seduce her, or did the whore come to you of her own accord? Did she see that you were the weak link… the chink in my armor? I fucking trusted you, Grayson. I trusted you with Sloane’s life, and you went and fucked her?”
I remained quiet. There wasn’t a damn thing I could say that would make Finnan stop rampaging. Yes, I had fucked Sloane, but it’d had nothing to do with him. It had been because I was obsessed with her. All that time watching her, learning her… Iknewher. I knew her in ways Finnan never could understand nor begin to understand.
He brought his hands up in front of him, but I shook my head. I swore to protect Finnan with my life. “No.”
“Fight me!” he yelled. “Fight me like a fucking man.”
“No.”
His mouth twisted into an irritated snarl. “Fine.” He cocked his fist back and hit me in the face. I spun—unable to stop the momentum—and landed on the floor, my hands planted in an almost push-up position. Finnan was stronger than he looked—something I knew from experience when we sparred. My jaw felt as if a truck had run straight into it. Hinging it back and forth, I stood up for the next blow.
Finnan looked murderous. His green eyes burned with a hatred I had never witnessed before. Impatiently, he shoved some of his dark hair from his face then bared his teeth. “You dumb fuck.”
This strike came at my stomach, shoving the air violently from my body. I fell to my knees, barely recognizing the pain of thecrackthat had heralded their meeting with the tile. Hunched over, I gasped in air, but never got enough.
Because I was bent over, I never saw his foot coming until it was too late. Blood sprayed in an arc from my nose, the break feeling far worse than any other I’d sustained before. Toppling over to the side, I curled in on myself, trying to protect my vital organs as my boss began to beat me to death.
Blood was dripping onto the tile beneath me, making me slide a little each time Finnan exerted any force. I curled tighter still, tucking my head down farther, bringing my forearms in close to my torso, and bending my legs. He wailed on me for so long that I think I blacked out because when I came to, a hushed silence had fallen over the room.
Bringing up my head, I turned and looked through my one good eye to see Finnan with his gun pointed at me. His breathing was hard, his nostrils flaring from the effort. Blood covered his knuckles and bare chest.
I knew I deserved this, but the idea of leaving Sloane behind, knowing what Finnan would do to her for her part in this, made me want to fight. For her. For us. To live with the woman I loved.
The woman I…loved?
How in the fuck hadn’t I seen it before now?
I couldn’t leave Sloane like this—stuck in this life without any options. Even if I couldn’t have her, I had to be there to protect her in whatever capacity I had.
Opening my mouth, I licked my lips—tasting blood—then croaked, “I’m calling in… my life… debt.”
“No,” he bit out, his fingers tightening on the grip of the gun. Although he was angry now, there was no way he could forget the last time I was this bloody at his feet. Time slowed—dwindled down to just the two of us staring at one another over the muzzle of a gun. “No,” he repeated.
“Finnan,” Keir said, breaking the intensity of our stare. “Once the debt is called in, you have to honor it.”
Finnan turned his head to stare at the Chief of the Mac Tíre clan and bared his teeth. “He touched what belonged to me. For that, he deserves to die.”
“Don’t lose your Warlord, yourbrother in arms… over this,” Keir pleaded. “Over a fucking piece of arse?”
“Fuck you,” he seethed before turning his feral eyes to me. His jaw worked violently as he stared at my face. “I accept the life debt. But you need to know that she fucking belongs tome, and she always will whether she’s the clan’s whore, or just my own.”
I wanted to pick up a gun and make him eat a bullet for coveting what was mine—clan boss or not—but I had to remember this was my punishment for stealing what was rightfully his. If it meant that I could live—even without Sloane—then I would take it. I would watch over her from a distance.
“Agreed,” I rasped, coughing and spitting out blood.
