Chapter Nine
He didn’t go home.
He couldn’t bear to.
He dropped the gun in his car that he had parked a few blocks off, and then put on his trench coat, and leaned against the car.
How could he have ruined this so easily?
His hands clenched in the pockets of his coat.
When he had been younger, making money had been his main focus. He had had sex, visited clubs which offered a BDSM lifestyle, had enjoyed it, but he had never sought out a relationship with a woman.
He and his mother knew what it was to not eat for two days in a row. He had built his whole empire so that they would never know the taste of poverty again. Along the way, he had built shelters for women and children.
His mother had managed them. She had thrown herself into protecting those that needed it. And she had searched for the one who had sired her. But when the cancer caught up to her, he had thrown the best doctors her way. He had tried everything, but she had just gotten worse and worse.
The anger within him at her death had festered and boiled, till he just threw himself into his work. Stealing the treasures had just been something he enjoyed. A hobby, one could say. But the growing fury in his heart, amidst the screaming pain of losing his only family, it had been a loud roaring in his ears.
Danielle’s soft touch had quieted the pain, calmed his heart. She had held his anger and hurt in those soft hands of hers, and eased them out, slowly taking their place.
He hadn’t understood that till it was too late and he had held the statue in his hands.
Sean stared across the street at the two drunk men who were stumbling along, amiably. His eyes were blind as they followed them as they turned the corner.
He needed Danielle.
With a desperation that she would never understand.
He needed her under him, bucking wildly as his hands and mouth tore at her sanity till she was just a whim to his and her needs.
He needed her needling him in that composed voice of hers, sarcasm in every word.
He wanted to see her scowl at him, and laugh at him.
He wanted her happiness, her joy.
He wanted to guard it all like a jealous, possessive lover. Her rare smiles belonged to him. Her anger belonged to him.
Even now, as he watched a grey car move past him, and he recognized the driver, he wanted to tell her to stop, and let him handle his woman.
But the woman he was hopelessly in love with, wanted nothing to do with him.
Growling under his breath, he started walking in the direction of a local bar. Tonight was a night to get drunk.
His mood was dark, his thoughts heavy.
Maybe if he was lucky enough, he could pick a fight or two.
Getting the shit beaten out of him might actually help.
Seeing the lights in the bar, he made his way towards it.
Nearly everybody was drunk.
He asked for drink, and then sat down, glaring into this drink. Seeing a couple of men sitting next to him, eyeing him, he sneered at them.
They probably thought he was rich and would be a good mark today.
He might not be so overly muscular as they were, but he had probably been in more bar fights than any of them, so he wasn’t particularly bothered.
“Doesn’t look like your kind of place, princess.” One of them called out.
Sean bared his teeth and showed them the middle finger.
The man grew red in the face and got up.
Sean looked him over, and smirked.
The man nudged his friends and the bartender warned them, “I don’t want any trouble in my place tonight, boys. John, sit your ass down, before I shoot it.”
The burlier of them scowled at the older bartender who was fingering his shotgun, threateningly, and sat back down.
However, the three of them eyed Sean and he knew they would attempt to ambush him on his way out.
He wasn’t worried.
No. He was yearning for a good fight.
He took his time to finish his drink, and then got up.
“You best be careful,” the bartender warned him as he pocketed his tip. “The three of them are especially mean. You can leave through the back entrance.”
Sean gave him a grim smile, “They look like panda bears compared to what I’ve had come at me. But thank you for the warning.”
Eyeing him like he was crazy, the man shrugged, and moved towards the other end of the bar.
Sean rolled his shoulders, and started walking towards the entrance, pretending not to notice the three men trailing after him with ugly looks on their faces.
Come on, boyos.
Come at me, you thick headed bastards.
And sure enough, he heard them move quickly towards him as he exited the place and he whirled around and ducked, avoiding the first punch.
His grin was wild, “You throw a punch like a little girl.”
The men growled and leaped towards him, and feeling his own blood boiling at the adrenaline of a fight, Sean lost himself to the Irishman that lay inside of him, and his teeth bared in a snarl.
“Let’s go, ladies.”
***
The loud banging on his door the next morning had Sean groaning. He sat up on the sofa and looked around, blearily.
He blinked for a few seconds and felt his face throb, painfully.
What?
His mind recalled the events of last night.
Oh yeah. The bar fight.
He had picked a fight with three of heftiest people in the bar.
He had given as good as he had gotten, but it was three against one, and none of them had been inclined to play fair.
Sitting up, he groaned as he felt his ribs scream in protest. He lifted his shirt and made a face at the splotch of colours on his stomach.
He really hoped nothing was broken.
When the banging continued, he yelled, “I’ll be there in a minute. Hold your fucking horses!”
Grabbing the sofa for support, he saw the two bottles strewn on the floor and wondered how much he had drunk when he had managed to get home.
That would explain the pounding in his head.
He made his way to the door, and opened the door.
His grandfather stood there.
One look at his face, and Thomas paled, swaying. “What happened to you?”
Sean tried not to blink too fast, “Hello to you too, Gramps.”
He turned around, and one hand holding his stomach, he limped back to the living room to collapse on the couch, “Got in a fight.”
“Give me names,” His grandfather demanded, raging fury in his voice.
He would have raised a brow at the over protectiveness, but his face hurt like a bitch, so he just settled for staring at the elderly man, “I picked a fight with them. And you should see the other guys.”
Thomas eased himself into a chair, “You should go to the hospital.”
“Or, I could just stay home and enjoy your company.” Sean groaned at a painful twinge in his side.
He didn’t want the pain to end. The physical pain was better than his aching heart right now.
Thomas watched him, noting the stark misery in the young man’s eyes.
“Something happened.” It was more of a statement, than a question, and Sean ignored it.
The smacking of the cane against his injured leg made him hiss and swear in Gaelic at his grandfather.
“Answer the question, boy. What is going on? Danielle is set on going on some pointless cruise and you’re sitting here, getting your ass handed to you.”
Sean scowled, “Hey! I dished out worse than them. And it was three against one. What do you expect?”
“That doesn’t answer my question. What happened with you and that girl?”
“I broke her heart,” Sean said, loudly, staring at the ceiling. “I crushed it, stomped on it, till it bled out. And then I decided to go back for a second round.”
His grandfather scoffed, “Yeah. Okay. Now, try the truth.”
Sean watched him from his one good eye, “I hurt her, Gramps. And I don’t think she’s ever going to forgive me for what I did.”
“Did you cheat on her?” Thomas’s voice was low, anger threaded in it.
“Of course not!” Sean growled. “I love that stupid woman.”
His grandfather’s shoulder relaxed, “Then stop her from leaving. She’s packing.”
Sean stilled, “She’s leaving today?”
“Her friend showed up at my house, wanting me to talk her out of it. She refuses to see her mother, not that her mother would be very helpful.”
Sean got up, and grabbed the arm of the sofa for support.
His grandfather stared at him, “Where are you going now?”
“To stop her,” Sean groaned, his aching ribs now screaming at the movement.
“Go to the hospital first.”
“Fuck the hospital,” Sean growled. He looked around for his keys before seeing them tucked in a corner of the sofa he had been sleeping on.
Picking them up, he limped his way out of the house.
Thomas followed him, “You sure you can drive?”
“I’ll manage,” his grandson muttered, forcing himself into the seat. Then he stared at the steering wheel, “She’s it for me, Gramps. I want to marry her. I know I’ve known her for a handful of weeks, but I know.”
A small box landed in his lap, and he blinked.
Thomas smirked, “I proposed to Meredith, two weeks after I met her. My father, a month, I have a feeling this runs in the family.”
Sean fingered the box, and opened it to see an engagement ring. It wasn’t a spectacular diamond, but it was beautiful.
His heart dropped to his knees.
“What if she says ‘no’?”
Thomas shrugged his broad shoulders, “Your grandmother refused me five times before I finally wore her down. Got the girl, didn’t I?”
Sean grinned at him, ignoring the spasm of pain that ran through him at the gesture.
He started the car.
He drove like a madman, and the people who cursed in his direction, froze at the sight of his battered face.
He really hoped he did not scare Danielle with his new and improved looks.