Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 105065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
“What about Niall?” I ask.
Lachlan sighs. “He’d like to meet with us. I’ve smoothed things over with the Russians, but we still have the issue of you and me to discuss.”
“What do you mean you’ve smoothed things over with the Russians?” I whisper. “Are you going to marry one of them?”
“No,” he replies. “I told Niall to let Sean have the position.”
My throat works when I realize what he’s saying. “You’re giving it up… for me.”
“Aye.” He nods. “It’s not a big ask, Mack. I’m mad about ye, in case ye haven’t noticed.”
I give him a shaky smile and kiss his neck. And then I start to tear at his clothes because it feels like it’s been forever and I need him inside of me. Lachlan lets me dispose of his tee shirt and slide his jeans down enough so that I can get to the part of him that I need.
“How is it possible that I miss you when you’re right here beside me?” I ask.
He groans and buries his face into my hair, kissing his way down my throat. “Tell me, Mack.”
“Tell you what?” I toss off my own shirt and wrap my arms around his back. He’s so warm and strong and solid, and I never want to let him go. I’m afraid to ask the hard questions between us. To figure out where we go from here. But I have a feeling that’s exactly where he’s going with this.
“Tell me that ye’re mad about me,” he says. “And you’d do anything for me.”
“I’m mad about you,” I repeat between kisses. “And I would, without a doubt, do anything for you.”
“And ye’re mine, now and for always.”
“I’m yours, now and for always,” I echo. “For as long as we have together.”
Lachlan lifts my hips and then sinks inside of me with an agonized sigh. “Fuck me, sweetheart,” he says. “And forget everything else.”
And I do.
***
I’m still lying in bed an hour later when Ronan knocks on the bedroom door. I glance at him in confusion because I was certain he left with Lachlan only thirty minutes ago.
“I still don’t like ye,” Ronan grumbles. “But I guess I’ll have to get used to ye, pain in the arse that ye are.”
“Gee, thanks.” I smile. “Did you come back here just to deliver that lovely sentiment?”
“Nah,” he says. “Thought ye might like to see what Crow’s doing for ye tonight. What we’re all doing for ye tonight.”
I frown, because I don’t like the tone of his voice. “What’s he doing?”
“Get dressed and I’ll show ye.”
He disappears down the hallway and I hurriedly throw on some jeans and a hoodie before scrambling after him. Conor is still on the couch, and he doesn’t even look up as we wander past.
“I saw nothing,” he says, holding a magazine up in front of his eyes.
Ronan escorts me to his beamer and we drive in silence. It isn’t long before I recognize where we’re going. The old warehouse where Johnny holds his fights.
“He’s fighting?” I ask in confusion.
I’ve heard some of the guys talk about how good Lachlan is, but he’s never fought here before. It seems odd that he’d be doing it now.
“Aye,” Ronan answers. “And he’s not the only one.”
I still don’t get what he’s saying, but I follow him inside and we find a spot in the crowd to watch from. The entire building is full of people watching the spectacle that’s already begun. I have to shoulder past a few tall men to get a good look at Lachlan.
Sure enough, there he is in the makeshift ring, fighting one of the Russians. A big guy that goes by the name of Boris. He’s a decent fighter, and I’ve seen him win his fair share of fights. But I’m not really worried, because I know Lach is better.
At first glance, he seems to be doing well. He’s holding his ground and blocking most of the shots his opponent throws. Every once in a while he gets in a couple himself. But there’s something off about the whole thing. It just looks canned, like he’s not really trying. Sure, the audience is buying it, but I’m not.
I’ve sparred with him, so I know his fighting style. And this isn’t it.
“What’s going on?” I ask Ronan.
“Keep watching,” he says in answer.
So I do. I watch Lach go round after round with Boris, taking punches that I know he could have easily blocked. After a while, I start to grimace. His lip is split, and he’s bleeding from a gash on his forehead too.
“Why isn’t he fighting?” I demand.
Ronan remains silent beside me, his jaw locked.
Boris hits Lachlan another four times, and he isn’t even bothering to try to deflect them at all anymore.
I open my mouth to yell something to him, but Ronan stops me.
“Don’t,” he orders. “You’ll only make it worse. He wouldn’t want ye to be here.”
Suddenly, it dawns on me what’s happening here. He’s taking a fall. For the Russians. Because of me. I glance at the chalkboard hanging up on the wall and see the huge amount of money in the pot tonight. Lach’s money. The Irish have all placed huge bets to keep up the pretense. I have no doubt whose money they are betting with either. But worse than that is Lach’s pride.
“Oh my God,” I whisper. “I can’t let him do this.”
“It’s already done,” Ronan says. “I want ye to know what he’s giving up for ye. The things he continues to give up. Ye hurt him once. I won’t stand for ye to do it again.”
I glance up at Ronan with a newfound respect. “I love him, Ronan,” I assure him. “I don’t ever want to hurt him again. I can’t watch this. Please tell me there’s something we can do.”
He just shakes his head.
“This is the payment. What we agreed to. Three lads for your freedom.”
“Three?” I ask in disbelief.
Ronan nods, but he doesn’t look bothered by it. “I had it coming for what I did. Rory will fight next month. Crow asked this of us so he could keep ye.”