Mafia King (Young Irish Rebels #2) - Vi Carter Page 0,22
was staying in the fucking chair.
“Meet my future wife,” I say as Jack steps into the kitchen. I’m watching Emma as her gaze drinks him in. “Or should I say your future wife?” I look at him for the first time and grin, hoping to keep the depth of his betrayal out of my features. I’m not entirely sure if I succeed.
Jack places his keys on the counter. “Does she have to be tied up?” The first thing out of his mouth has me getting angrier. He doesn’t deny she was meant for him.
“You want a bomb maker loose?” I hold the cigarette between my lips and walk toward Emma, grabbing the rope more roughly than I need to. She groans around the gag.
“Leave her.” Jack’s response has me standing up and looking at him while taking the cigarette out of my mouth. For the first time, I see his guilt. But he can take it and shove it up his ass.
“You didn’t really think you could blackmail father and me and expect things would run smoothly, did you?”
His confession has me stepping away from Emma and towards him.
I won’t remind him that I saved Maeve’s life and that it still rested in my hands. He didn’t need the reminder. He knew the stakes here.
“So it’s all a lie?”
Jack glances at Emma, and I move right up and block him. Like fuck he can look at her.
“You are a King of the North; you have your place on the panel. That wasn’t a lie.” Jack grits his teeth as he speaks.
The gun in my jeans is begging to be used. But if I kill Jack, I’ll have to shoot Emma too, so I hold off. That thought alone makes me feel itchy.
Jack tries to look past me at Emma again, and I move until we are toe to toe. “You’re trying to make a cunt of me, Jack.” I let a grin grace my face. “I don’t like anyone making a cunt of me.”
I take a step back and allow my words to sink in.
Jack steps away from the counter, and this time I can’t stop him from looking at Emma. Blood roars through my system, and I stay where I am so I don’t react.
“The deal was real. I honestly didn’t know until after of the implications of you marrying her.”
I turn and face Jack. I can’t help but take a look at Emma, whose nostrils are flared as she drags in air. She has no idea what the fuck is going on, either. Does she look at Jack and hate this situation even more? I throw my cigarette in the sink and turn on the tap, watching the amber light go out.
“She’s Red Murphy’s daughter. He’s a bomb maker for the RA.”
I bite my lip and re-open an earlier cut. Fuck. “Your father just fucked me up the ass.” Jack doesn’t respond because he fucking can’t.
“He was responsible for the bombing in 2015.” Jack continues, and I’m moving. I don’t give a fuck who he is. My hands wrap around his throat as I slam his body against the wall.
“I swear, I didn’t know.” Jack wraps his hands around my neck too but doesn’t squeeze.
I tighten my hold on his neck. “Thirty-two children!” I roar at him before letting him go. His hands fall away easily as he rubs his own neck.
“Thirty-two,” I repeat. I’ll never forget that day. It was an Orange March, and a bomb had been planted in the crowd, killing one hundred and thirteen innocent people.
Emma’s mumbles have me swinging around to her. Her eyes are wide, and she’s shaking her head.
“Your father is a fucking animal that will be slaughtered soon.” My anger has my mouth moving; Jack pushes off the wall.
“You still have your crown; my father placed you in this predicament to keep a tight leash on you.”
Tight? He was fucking choking me.
“What’s going to happen when the people up north find out I’m marrying her?” I point at Emma, who has started to rock in the chair.
Jack takes a step towards her, and I grip his arm. His jaw tightens, and he looks from my hand all the way up to my eyes.
“She’s mine. Don’t fucking touch her.” I release him.
“I was going to take her gag out.”
“I said, don’t touch her.”
Jack looks at Emma again. “If her family thought for one second that she was tied up, you would be a dead man.”