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The fuck it had been though.
Nothing about that had been involuntary. Feeling her soft, warm body pressed to mine had made my brain short-circuit. I wanted to tear all her clothes off and sink inside her warm cunt, and the ball-grabbing need had confused me. Sex was about my domination and control over my partner. Sex was about restraint and never letting a woman be in control again.
I wouldn’t expose her to that part of me—the dark monster that lived inside my head.
Besides, Fallon didn’t need to be associated with someone with a past like mine. I was tainted. Dirty. My body only good for one thing.
Ava had taught me that.
Her cruel words and treatment broke me, but like everything in my life, I remolded myself into another version—one where I controlled every situation and refused to give another person that kind of power over me again.
I looked up at the uncovered window on the opposite side of the room as rain streaked down the other side. While I was out, I’d called Finnan to check in and receive an update on what he wanted us to do. Apparently, there had been several strikes on businesses in Galway that Finnan thought were messages for the clan. And now, he wanted me back in the fold. We were to return to Oranmore tomorrow—me and Fallon. The thought of bringing her even further into this violent life made me sick to my stomach. Her past actions couldn’t be undone though, and I would rather have her close where I could keep an eye on her than far away and fending for herself. Not that I would ever let that happen. She was my responsibility now, and when it came down to it, I may not have had any qualms about pulling the trigger and killing mine and the clan’s enemies, but I did care about her.
I shut my eyes and let the sound of her breaths, the heat of her body, and the scent of ylang-ylang wash over my beaten and battered soul.
* * *
When I woke,it was abruptly and with a deep inhale. I was instantly awake. Alert. As was my dick, which had registered Fallon’s presence before my consciousness had. She was still in my arms, pressed against me from chest to hip. No, it was more than that. One of her bare feet had snaked between my ankles, hooked there like she was afraid I was going somewhere in her sleep.
Frowning, I tried to figure out what had woken me. Outside, the gentle rain was gone, a storm raging in its place. The room lit up every few seconds, forks of white lightning arcing across the night sky beyond the window. Rain pelted at the pane, and thunder boomed.
I turned my head toward the door when I heard a weak shout, my senses alert in the same way they were when I was on a mission. Disentangling myself from Fallon, I shoved my feet into my boots, picked up the gun from the nightstand, and crept closer to the door.
“Come on, old man,” said a voice—this one horribly familiar.
When the sound of footsteps receded, I glanced one last time over my shoulder at Fallon then opened the door. Lightning made the dark hallway illuminate with strobes, the roll of thunder dampening my steps. The door to the bedroom of the old couple who owned this place was slightly ajar. Easing forward, I nudged it open with my foot and swept the room with my gun raised.
“Fucking hell.”
The old woman—Betty—had been shot in the head. She was still lying down like she’d been shot in her sleep. If there was any way to go, though, that would be it. Her pillow and the upper half of the mattress beneath her body were soaked with blood, and the spill of bowels that death heralded was getting thicker by the second.
Across the hall, the door to the other guest room was ajar too, and I peeked inside. The bed was still made, but the blanket was askew as if it had been laid on. Peering around the door, I saw there was no luggage on the floor. Whoever had been staying here had obviously left.
Downstairs, I heard anotherthudand then two loud gunshots that I heard over the tempest. That should’ve been my first clue that shit was about to go down. The second was the smell of gasoline growing stronger and stronger.
Hauling ass back up the stairs, I exploded into our room, waking Fallon with a start.
She sat up, her hair wild around her face. “What are you doing?”
Fuck, there wasn’t any time to explain. I could smell the first wisps of smoke.
“Is that smoke?” she asked, her eyes widening. Scrambling from the bed, she stared up at me with large, blue eyes. “Why can I smell smoke?”
I clenched my jaw so tightly I swore I could hear enamel grinding on enamel. “Farrell found us.”
“Found us? How?”
My gaze shifted to the door behind us, the smell of smoke growing stronger. “I don’t know how he found us, but we have to get out of here.”
“How?”
We couldn’t go out the front door. Farrell was smoking us out like you would a fox from a hole. I turned my attention to the window. Throwing open the sash, I peered out. The storm was still raging, lighting up the sky with licking forks of lightning. About six feet below our window was a tree. I could lower Fallon down there, make sure she was safe, then go and take care of Farrell.
Fallon followed my gaze and began shaking her head. “Nope. No way.”
“Would you rather go downstairs and have bullets shot through you?”
She nibbled her bottom lip. “Okay.” Sliding from the bed, she threw her legs over the side and approached me. “How do I do this?”
