Page 6

The bomb beneath my car at Ronan’s wedding and the failed attack at the safe house have been playing on my mind for what feels like weeks.

Every waking moment I have is spent trying to track down the fucker who decided to mess with me. But joke’s on them because as much as I like feeling pain, I like dishing it out even more.

When I get my hands on them, I’ll make sure to make that fact known.

My stomach growls, but just as I turn to the kitchen to start making breakfast, my phone starts buzzing in the pocket of my workout shorts.

“Seriously, Ronan?”

But as I look at my phone, the notifications tell me the messages aren’t from Ronan but from some random girl I hooked up with the other night.

I don’t remember giving her my number. Didn’t even care enough to learn her name.

Blonde chick-The Salt Rock: The other night was fun, wanna do it again sometime? I’m off work tonight if you’re free? Xxx

I don’t consider replying. I’m not usually one for double dipping, so I delete the message before blocking the contact. I feel kind of bad for doing it, but it seems these girls don’t get the message any other way.

I’m not a relationship guy. I never have been, and honestly, I don’t think I ever will be. And that suits me fine.

Setting my phone down on the marble countertop, I open the fridge and start pulling out some supplies for breakfast.

It buzzes again.

“I swear to God…” I snatch it up.

Only, this time, it’s not a hookup I’ve forgotten about. It’s my security system letting me know that a black Mercedes has pulled into my underground garage.

It seems my oldest brother has decided to pay me an early morning visit.

I’m cracking my eggs into a pan when the elevator doors ping open, and Ronan strolls in, followed by Brennan.

Brennan scoffs. “Couldn’t have showered first?”

“I wasn’t expecting company.” I shoot Ronan a glare.

“Ciara needs the peace and quiet.” He shrugs before taking a seat on one of the metal stools tucked beneath the kitchen island.

“And I don’t?”

Brennan picks up the empty pot and waves it around. “You’re out of coffee.”

He opens it again and looks inside as if it might have suddenly magically refilled itself.

I narrow my eyes at Ronan. “You could have at least left him behind.”

“He’s like a sad puppy. He just gives me those eyes, and I can’t say no.”

I clap Ronan on the shoulder. “You’ve gone soft, brother. You’re going to have to work on that before those kids of yours arrive; otherwise you’ll be royally fucked. But at least you’ve gotten some solid practice in with this one over here.”

I snatch the coffee pot out of Brennan’s hand before he can break it and get to work fixing us a fresh pot.

From the serious look on Ronan’s face, I have a feeling we’re going to need it.

As he works, and I finish making my breakfast, I only half listen to their conversation. Most of the time, Ronan only talks about Ciara, which is both cute and nauseating.

I’m glad he’s happy, but I also wish he didn’t have to rub his happiness in my goddamn face all the time.

Brennan smirks. “I still can’t believe you’re going to have two kids. I would have put money on Kieran knocking someone up first.”