Tiernan A Dark Irish Mafia Romance - Jane Henry Page 0,80

Keenan. We’ll find out where we’re at legally. Get into some comfortable clothes. It’ll be a long night.”

I nod. I don’t question what he says. I trust him. I think it may be the first time in my life I’ve ever fully, fully trusted another human being.

“Will do. I’m fucking famished.”

He chuckles and wraps a towel around me.

“The feeding and caring of Aisling,” he says on a grin. “We’ll have food sent up.”

I sigh in contentment. “Perfect.”

Chapter 20

Tiernan

She’s so lovely, all pink and rosy from the shower, her short black hair pinned up in a little clip-thing. I watch Aisling dress quietly, her mind elsewhere.

“What are you thinking about?” I ask her, tugging on a pair of faded trousers and a t-shirt.

She shrugs. “Well,” she says thoughtfully, worrying her lip before she continues. Her voice trails off. I look at her, wondering why she’s holding back as I tuck my wallet into my pocket.

“I don’t know if they’ll believe me.”

“Who, love?”

“Anyone. The girls I worked with before, at Vivian’s.” She clears her throat. “The Prime Minister.”

“I don’t give a crap what they think,” I begin, but she cuts me off, holding her palm up. I stop and let her continue.

“I know you don’t,” she says with a sigh. “But Tiernan, it matters. I don’t like that I’ve brought trouble to the McCarthy clan. It isn’t right.” She laughs mirthlessly. “You bring on enough trouble of your own.”

“Aye, we do,” I say, not sharing her humor, since I’m determined to keep this woman safe. “But that doesn’t mean anything.”

She rolls her eyes. “Tiernan—”

“No. I mean it. We rule Ballyhock, Aisling, whether you realize it or not. We’re more powerful than we let on. The schools, the church, the hospital and shops… they thrive because of us. That brings us clout you couldn’t know.”

She nods, but I can tell she isn’t convinced.

“Let’s eat.”

“Oh, God, I’m bloody starving,” she says, tucking her legs under her. “Something good and hearty.”

Minutes later, we’ve got large bowls of steaming hot stew, the good Irish soda bread our kitchen makes. She tucks in like a truck driver, and it makes me fucking proud.

It’s late by the time Keenan gets in touch. Aisling’s eyes are droopy, and I’m feeling damn near shattered myself, but we both perk up when my phone rings.

“You got time for a chat, brother?” he asks.

“Of course.”

“Meet us in the meeting room, then,” Keenan says.

I hang up the phone. Aisling’s eyes have gone wide, her face a bit paler than usual.

“Now, don’t get your knickers in a knot over this. I’ve told you, we’ve got it.”

She nods. “That’s not really what I’m worried about. I mean, I am… I want all of this put to rest. All of it. But I also… well, you told me you’ll claim me next. And I’m not sure what that will bring.”

I reach for her hand and lace her fingers through my own. “Aye, I know it. But you said you trust me, remember?”

“And I do, Tiernan. So so much.”

“Then just trust me with this. We’re going to work this out first. We’ll makes sure you’re safe and no one will come for you.”

“Or you.” Her eyes flash.

My lips twitch. “Or me.”

“I mean it, Tiernan, it’s bloody awful that someone could blame you for his death, when all you did was defend me.”

I roll my eyes. “You don’t think I’ve been accused of such things before? Honest to God, Ais, I’m fucking Irish mob.”

Her lips twitch. “Well, aye, that y'are, eh?”

I take her hand and lead her to the door. “Let’s go downstairs. We’ll talk about this later.”

It’ll help if she can talk to the other girls again as well. We head downstairs, and though I know we’ve much to do to make sure that the trouble that followed us is over, I’m confident that we’ll manage it. We aren’t alone. We’ve got the power, strength, and connections of the entire McCarthy clan behind us.

The downstairs is dimly lit. The babies have been tucked in for the night, and a certain peace settles in around us. There’s a light on in the kitchen, though it’s closed for the night, and the main receiving rooms are cast into darkness.

“It’s beautiful,” Aisling murmurs.

“What is, love?”

She sighs and nestles her head against my shoulder. “The peace in this home. Dozens of people in bed, the house clean and at rest. It’s a little bit like a dream?’

I love this about her, how much she adores the simplest things in life like

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