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Orin was getting angry, too, because he started to pace. He glared at me every few seconds like he couldn’t believe we were having this conversation.
“Why not?” I demanded again.
“Because I like to inflict pain on my partners!” he shouted, drawing to a stop. “I like to dominate them, restrain them, take away their choices. I like to fuck like that to … to …”
“To what?”
He stared at me like he had no idea what he’d just said or why. “Jesus,” he muttered, striding to the armoire and pulling out a leather jacket. “Stay here, or so help me, I will take you over my knee and teach you the meaning of obedience.”
His words shouldn’t have affected me so deeply, but the idea of being at his mercy was suddenly something I wanted to experience. He looked at me one last time before marching from the room.
SIXTEEN
ORIN
When Finnan had called me about a job down south on the way back from Velvet and told me to come and see him as soon as I got in, I was relieved to have a fucking reason to leave Fallon and remove the temptation she inspired. Now, after seeing the devastation on her face when she figured out that I’d been with another woman—that I hadrejectedher—I wanted to keep away from her so I wouldn’t fall at her fucking feet and beg for forgiveness.
I knocked on Finnan’s office door.
When he opened it, he gave me a once-over, then said, “You look like shit.”
I grunted, unable to disagree with him, and stepped inside. “What do you want?”
Sitting behind his desk, he ground his molars, obviously unimpressed with my tone. He could suck my fucking dick if he didn’t like the way I spoke to him.
“Sit down.”
Reluctantly, I took the seat in front of his desk.
“There’s been a change of plans.”
“Don’t leave me hanging in suspense,” I drawled.
Finnan’s glare was arctic. “Torin has disappeared.”
I sat up a little straighter. “Run that by me again.”
“Torin.” He practically bit the word off. “He’s gone, and I need you to find him.”
Torin was the member turned rat for the Bèar Clan. He also happened to be Finnan’s half brother. The punishment for turning on your clan was death, but Finnan had been dragging this shit out. It had been almost three months since Grayson’s now-wife, Sloane, revealed it all. She’d been snatched by the Bèar Clan, only to be rescued by Torin. She found the money book that linked him to our rivals and ruthlessly bargained her life for his.
I frowned. “What about the job in Limerick?”
“Resecuring Torin is more important.”
Leaning back in my chair, I studied the other man’s face. “What the fuck happened, Finnan? I thought he was being held somewhere secure.”
His jaw bulged with his growing irritation. “He was.”
I shook my head. “This could’ve all been over months ago.” I’d offered to put the bullet in his skull myself.
But Finnan wasn’t having any of that. “No,” he barked back, his hands curling into fists on the top of his desk. He seemed to breathe in deeply for a moment before adding, “I haven’t decided what to do with him yet.”
Hinging forward in my seat, I said, “And every hour you let him remain breathing is fucking our clan up the arse!”
Finnan’s eye twitched, but he had no response.
I blew out a frustrated breath. “Do you know where he could’ve gone?”
