Sully: An Irish Mafia Romance (The Brotherhood Book 3) Read online

  I'm too busy looking over Sully to watch the confrontation behind me. Besides, I trust them—well, I'm learning to trust them. Might as well start today.

  "See, that's the thing, O'Malley, she's not your concern anymore," Rush all but growls out.

  "Aidan was my best friend. I made a promise to him, and she was my responsibility."

  "Guess it wasn't too much of a sense of responsibility if you didn't even find her for eight years." Wolf's tone is overly conversational, and it's enough to steal my attention. I glance at him, unsurprised when I see his sly smirk. Contempt dances in his gaze as he stares at Jack.

  Jack shifts his weight to the other foot and affects a bored look. "When I found her, I made it—her—my responsibility."

  "Let me clear that up for you then, O'Malley. You're absolved of any sort of responsibility when it comes to Alaina. That honor belongs to us now, and anyone who interferes will end up with an extended stay at our carriage house in Summer Knoll."

  I don't know what the hell the carriage house is or what exactly is happening, but I know a threat when I hear it. Turning around, something inside me tightens, and if I was unsure before, this confirms my suspicions that something has changed. Or maybe I've always been this way, but it's been buried under so many layers of superficial shit that I didn't realize it was there.

  Rush isn't in Jack's face, and the gun still lays casually at his side, but perhaps that only adds to his powerful, commanding presence.

  "Watch it, boyo. You don't want to start a war with me." Jack's voice is measured and delivered in such a matter-of-fact tone.

  The corner of Rush's mouth tips up, and his eyes twinkle with malice. "Take your own advice, old man."

  Jack's always been kind to me, but there's something about how Rush took command of the situation that works for me.

  It really fucking works for me.

  Wolf claps his hands twice, startling me enough that I jump. "Alright. As fun and . . . enlightening . . . as this has been, time to go. Sully, get your shit, brother."

  Sully's eyebrows manage to crawl into his hairline even when his eyes glass over in pain. "Okay." He drags the word out and makes a show of looking around and patting his pockets. He slides his hand inside the pocket of his jeans, pulls his phone out, and waves it around. "Ready."

  "Red." I startle and look over at Wolf. He's standing right next to me, face lowered and eye soft. "Let's go, baby girl."

  I let myself get lost in his expressive eyes for a moment, knowing he'll always be there to catch me. Impulsively, I push up on my toes and lean into Wolf, bridging the few inches between us. I brush my lips across his, a soft touch that I let linger for a moment. "I'm ready, Wolf." The words echo one of the first things I said to him, and I watch as a shiver rolls over Wolf.

  "Don't push me, old man. I'm not fucking around when it comes to her. Feel me?"

  Jack rolls his eyes. "Aye, I feel you, boyo. Now, get the fuck outta my house." He turns to look at me, giving Rush his back. "Songbird, you come see me soon, yeah?"

  "Let's go," Rush growls out as he storms out of the kitchen. His footsteps get quieter until I hear the front door open and close with a bang.

  I land back on my feet again and look over my shoulder. "Alright, old man." I lace my fingers with Wolf's and let him lead us out of the kitchen.

  "Aye. And Alaina? Sorry about your mom, kid."

  I pause in the doorway of the kitchen and look over my shoulder at Jack. A sense of foreboding washes over me and dread fills my gut.

  Why does this feel like the last time I'll see him? A scary thought, for sure, but with the way my life is changing, I'm not so sure that I shouldn't trust these little instincts.

  I untangle my hand from Wolf's and spin around. In three steps, I reach Jack and wrap my arms around his neck. "Thank you, Jack. For everything."

  He returns my embrace and squeezes me once before he lets me go and steps back. "Be safe, songbird."

  I nod and walk backward until I reach the doorway. With one final look at Jack, I turn around and join my place in between Wolf and Sully.

  Chapter Nine

  Alaina

  About ten minutes into the ride, Sully nods off and jerks himself awake, grimacing in pain. After the third time and some cajoling, I get him to agree to lay his head down on my lap for the rest of the way. He's lying on his back, his large frame almost comical in this position in the backseat with me. I take the time to study his features, the lines and curves of his face. My fingers twitch with the need to trace everything. The dark smudge of lashes against his cheek. The way his hair waves across his forehead. The absence of his scowl and the smoothness of his brow. There's no way he'd let me be so close to him if he were awake.

  I sigh, a quiet, wistful sort of noise as I cave and brush the hair from his forehead, letting my fingertips rest a little longer against his scalp. When we were younger, I used to run my nails through his hair and massage his scalp. I swear he used to purr every time I did it.

  A smile ghosts over my mouth at the memory. Too soon, it's wiped away and replaced with the memory of him screaming at me in the hallway of Summer Knoll, declaring that he never wanted to see me again.

  I had hoped that it was some sort of lash-out, a knee-jerk reaction to seeing me after so long. I haven't forgotten what he did, and I know we need to talk about it.

  The last day has taught me that leaving things unsaid is never a good idea. And that some things are worth fighting for. I decided a while ago that Sully’s worth fighting for, but the events of the last few hours only reaffirms that for me.

  An hour later, the car slows as we approach a gray high-rise apartment building. From this angle, it looks like an entire side is floor-to-ceiling windows. I run my fingers through Sully's hair as we pull into the attached underground parking garage. Though the apartment isn't all that far from O'Malley's, traffic to get here—anywhere in NYC—is difficult on a good day and near impossible on a bad.

  And because luck wasn't entirely on my side tonight, the roads were packed. Part of me doesn't mind since I got my unobstructed view of Sully for so long.

  "Should he be sleeping so much?"

  I flick my gaze to Wolf as he drives us around the parking garage at five miles per hour. He holds my gaze for a moment before returning his eyes to the road.

  "Sleep's the best thing for him. We'll carry him upstairs to his room, and he'll be fine. Doc said he'll make a full recovery, remember, Red?" Wolf pulls his SUV into a spot.

  Right in front of us is a sign bolted against the concrete wall claiming this spot for a Fitzgerald resident. I look to my left and see four more spots just like it.

  It takes all three of us to maneuver Sully out of the car. Once he's outside the car and leaning against Wolf, he cracks his lids and looks between the three of us. Rush throws Sully's other arm over his shoulder and together, they help him to the bank of elevators ahead. I follow behind them and step into the elevator.

  "Which floor?" I ask as I turn around to face the glowing white buttons on the right side.

  "Here, stick this key in and press P, Red," Wolf says as he digs into his pocket to pull out a small silver keycard.

  My eyebrows lift as I scan the buttons. P is at the top, though I shouldn't be surprised. The penthouse is usually at the top of a building, and if Summer Knoll is anything to go by, their apartment will be massive. I secretly hope that it leans more toward their taste from the cabin at Golden Oak—and that it has the same feel.

  After a relatively quick elevator ride, the reflective black doors open, and I step into the long hallway. There's a door on either side, so I step to the side and wait for the guys to lead the way.

  They turn right, Sully half-walking, half-sleeping between the two of them. Rush holds his thumb to an electronic pad outside the door. A green light flashes before it beeps and shines green. A click sounds, and the door opens.

  "That's some high-tech security," I mumble.

  "Think of it as a
step above Summer Knoll, but a step below Golden Oak. We've worked hard over the years to create safe pockets of space in this city and others for situations just like this," Wolf calls over his shoulder.

  The two of them walk-carry Sully to the left, up a few steps, and down a hallway to what I'm assuming are bedrooms.

  I don't follow, too caught up staring at the space around me and taking everything in. In front of me, two low-profile gray couches face one another with a square black coffee table in between them. The floors are dark, almost charcoal in color, broken up by a large woven black-and-gray rug underneath the couches.

  To the right of me is the kitchen. It’s decorated in blacks, chrome, and pale grays and outfitted with what looks like brand-new black appliances and white cabinetry.

  It feels like them to me, and yet, it doesn’t. I don’t spy any personal touches here like I did at Golden Oak—and even those were sparse.

  I look around the open-concept space, my gaze snagging on the view of the city from up here. Colorful lights twinkle in the distance, and I cross the room to the windows for a better view. I was right, the wall is floor-to-ceiling windows. Actually, it looks like this whole side of the apartment might be floor-to-ceiling windows.

  I bet they don’t even need an alarm clock with the way the sun fills the rooms at dawn.

  New York City greets me from beyond the thick glass. She's bustling and bright, and if I strain my ears, I can hear the low hum of the city below. But maybe that's my imagination.

  Leaning my forehead on the glass, I let the sight blur until all I can focus on is the slow way my breath moves in and out. My exhales fog up the glass in front of me, but still, I don't move.

  I just need a moment.

  I just need a second to breathe and pretend that I didn't just watch my mother die. That I didn't then watch some guy stitch up my first love in the apartment above a pub. That I didn't get whisked away to a penthouse like I'm in some romantic comedy.

  Right now, it feels like my life is more of a tragedy—I hope to god or any higher power listening that it doesn’t end up like a Shakespearean tragedy.

  So, I just need a moment to get my shit together. Because everything has changed.

  I've changed.

  And I'm not sure how to process. I've spent my entire life being this one person, and then—then all of a sudden, I'm this whole other person.

  I was ready to hurt that man today. Like really hurt him. And the fact that I don't regret it is what scares me the most.

  I feel Wolf before I see or hear him.

  "Isn't it strange?" I murmur, keeping my eyes closed.

  Wolf slides his strong, warm palm up my spine to rest at the base of my neck. "What's that, baby girl?"

  I roll my forehead across the glass and open my eyes. Eyes the color of rich dark chocolate greet me, warm and inviting. "This. Us." I pause. "Life."

  Wolf steps into me, not quite pressing his body against mine, but close enough for me to feel the heat of it. Something inside me settles at his proximity.

  His tongue swipes across his lip as he stares at me. "Strange is one way to describe it. But I also might use enchanting, mesmerizing … fateful.”

  The corners of my lips tip up and I turn around to face him. He doesn't step back, if anything, he steps further into me, pressing my back against the cool glass.

  "Are you trying to charm me, Conor?" I ask with a grin.

  Wolf presses his palms to the glass just next to my head and leans in. His shoulders flex in the most distracting way, and from this angle, he looks impossibly huge. I don't miss the twinkle in his eye as he aligns our mouths.

  "Depends. Is it working?"

  A laugh slips it past my lips, and I shake my head with a smile. "So cocky."

  His own smile stretches across his handsome face as he presses his lips against mine. "You love it." His pouty lips caress mine with every syllable.

  My breath hitches at the realization that we've never said these words before. Not to each other, not really. On speakerphone when my world just got rocked, and I was on the way to rescue my cousin like I’m the superhero in some movie feels almost like it didn't count. So this, right now, this could be my chance for a proper exchange.

  I tip my head back, separating our lips and meeting his playful gaze. "I do. Love you, I mean."

  I watch in wonder as the words leave my lips and infiltrate his consciousness. It takes precious seconds, but the transformation is beautiful. It's something I don't think I'll ever forget, not for as long as I live. I mentally pocket the memory up and tuck it inside my soul for safekeeping.

  Wolf inhales, and it's like his body expands further. His pupils dilate and his muscles flex. He practically vibrates with energy as he holds himself tight. With a measured slowness, he brings his hands to either side of my neck, threading his fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck. I hold on to his wrists to ground myself as my heart beats wildly. Leaning down so our foreheads touch, he skims his nose along mine before placing soft kisses on each corner of my mouth.

  "I've been waiting my whole life to hear someone say those words to me and mean them. And I—I don't deserve you, baby girl, but I'll spend the rest of my life worshipping you."

  "So what you're saying is that you love me too?" I tease with a tilt of my head.

  "So fucking much." The words are barely out of his mouth before he surges forward to capture my lips in a bruising kiss.

  He tilts my head to the perfect angle to deepen our kiss as we affirm the mutual declaration with our mouths. I snake my arm around his neck and pull him flush against me.

  His groan is music to my ears, and I hitch my leg up. Without missing a beat—or breaking from the kiss—Wolf palms underneath my thigh, holding me to him. I feel his cock harden, and my lust spikes further.

  "Alaina."

  Wolf pulls back at the sound of his brother's voice, his nose grazing mine. My eyes flutter open at the movement. Our chests rise in tandem, and I wonder how much further we would've gone had Rush not called my name.

  "Impeccable timing, as always, brother," Wolf says without taking his gaze off of me. He uses his grip on my neck to tip my head back further, the back resting against the window behind me. He places soft kisses along my jawline and down my neck as I stare at Rush over his shoulder.

  A month ago, I would've said Rush's face was unreadable, his gaze undecipherable. But now—today—I can see the lines of tension in his frame, the tightness around his eyes, and the elevated rising and falling of his chest. To the untrained eye, he might seem angry, but I know better now.

  He's not angry. Jealous, maybe. Turned on, definitely.

  He's far enough away that I can't see the color of his eyes, but I'd bet my life that they're dark like the sky before a storm.

  "Sully's calling for you, Alaina." Rush holds himself still as he delivers the message.

  Wolf lifts his head from my neck with one last kiss beneath my ear. "We're not finished, baby girl, not by a long shot."

  A shiver of arousal courses through me at his whispered vow. "Promise?"

  "Aye, you have my word on that," he growls out before sealing his words with a kiss that has my toes curling in my shoes. Almost as soon as it begins, he pulls back and takes two quick steps backward, letting go of me. He tips his head to the hallway. "I'll find you later."

  I look at him for a moment, willing my heart to slow down, before I do something silly like jump him. Or Rush.

  Or maybe both.

  The only thing that settles my raging hormones is the knowledge that I’m tapped. I’m close to crashing, and when I cross that line with both of them, I don’t want to be on a time limit.

  I nod as I push off the window, my eyes find and hold Rush's gaze. When I'm close enough to touch him, I run my fingertips across the broad expanse of his chest. "I want you to come find me too, okay?"

  Rush traps my hand right above his heart, and I wonder how long he was standing there before he spoke up. I searc
h his gaze, but he's locked everything down tight. "I will. Right after we call Da."

  I pause, one foot on the step to look at him. "Should I be there for this phone call? I'm assuming it'll be about my mother." I raise a brow and tilt my head. Then a sobering thought hits me, and my jaw drops. “Oh god, I have to call my cousins. I can’t believe I—”

  “Your cousins are fine. They’re safe, and they’re expecting your call tomorrow. You let me and Wolf worry about our da, yeah? We'll take care of you."

  I bite my lip and look at him before glancing at Wolf. He's sitting on one of the low-profile gray couches, his arms stretched across the back on either side of him. He meets my gaze and tips his head toward the hallway with a reassuring smile. I look back at Rush. "Only if you're sure . . . I could use a shower, too."

  Rush lifts my hand from his chest to his lips. He places chaste kisses along each knuckle as he says, "I'm sure. And please, help yourself to anything you need. This is your home as much as ours."

  Something warm unfurls in my chest at the word home rolling off his lips and the sincere look in his eyes. My lips part and I nod, two small movements that have my hair swishing across my back.

  I slip my hand from his, and he lets me, turning to watch me walk across the living room toward the hallway.

  "And Alaina?" I pause and look over my shoulder at the mouth of the hallway. “Welcome home."

  Chapter Ten

  Alaina

  Home.

  I think about those four letters as I walk down the hallway, glancing at the artwork on the walls on either side of me. Black and white portraits of people I've never seen before and the occasional oil painting.

  My feet slow as I see an eight-by-ten photograph framed. It's black and white, but even if it weren't, I'd recognize the three faces smiling back at me anywhere. There they are. The three people who are quickly becoming everything to me.

  My home.

  The realization is startling. I gasp, my heart thumping double-time. In the span of twenty-four hours, I lost my mother—and arguably, my father. The people that children are taught represent their home. My eyes well at the phantom heartache that pulses inside my chest. I'd tried for so long to get my mother to be my home—my safe place.