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My Father's Rival: A Silver Saints MC Novella by Fiona Davenport (20)

Chapter Five

Brandon

I stopped pacing and gripped Carly’s biceps, backing her up against the wall and crowding her. “Used to be, kitten. As of now, I am the only man you trust.” I paused for a minute, thinking about her situation. “You can also trust Nic.” I would lay down my life for Nic, and I knew he would do the same, just as we would for each other’s families. But, it eased my tension knowing I didn’t have to worry about him trying to steal my woman.

Carly shook her head, her long mane of red hair brushing against her tits with the movement. She was so damn beautiful. I didn’t care what McKinnon had done for her, who he’d been to her, as of now, he wouldn’t be anywhere near her.

“Tommy is the reason I was able to run, Bran. He’s been my best friend since I was eight. He took punishment from protecting me from my dad and brother more times than I care to think about. His father is as big of a monster as mine.”

I gripped her chin, forcing her to pay complete attention. “I don’t give a fuck, Carly. I can appreciate that he played a role in keeping you safe until we found each other, but now you’re mine. And, I protect what’s mine.” I squeezed her chin a little harder, but made sure I wasn’t causing her pain. “You know my reputation, Carly. No one touches what’s mine. And that includes Thomas fucking McKinnon. Do you understand

She stared at me, wide-eyed, unblinking, and for a moment, I worried I’d gone too far and made her afraid of me. I wasn’t in the habit of hiding who I was like Nic. I couldn’t be. Being the enforcer, and his number two, people had to know me because I needed them to fear me. Even so, for the first time, I considered whether I should have tempered my hard edges a bit.

Then she blinked. Fuck. Her lids raised and her green eyes were full of fire, burning with desire. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I backed up, my hands clenching and unclenching into fists, as I reminded myself to take it slow. To make things special. My cock was pissed at me for the decision and my zipper cut into the skin as he pressed against it, trying to get free.

I cleared my throat and glanced at the partially open door to the bedroom. “Come to the kitchen, babe,” I said, sidling toward the door. “We can talk while I make you some dinner.” Then, I turned and practically ran from the room before I threw her on the bed and fucked her until we both collapsed into a sexual coma.

For an apartment in a New York City, prewar building, mine was quite large. The kitchen and main room were one big space, and the back wall had two picture windows, facing a private courtyard. I’d chosen the apartment for the back and the kitchen. I loved to cook, it was something I’d done with my mother since I was a child. Nic used to give me shit about it until he tasted my food. Shut his ass up real quick.

I pulled out everything I needed to make chicken parmigiana, grateful that I’d had the foresight to send a text to one of the guys to make sure the kitchen was fully stocked for our return. My eyes swept the room, the cogs in my mind spinning as I thought about how it would look to Carly. I owned the whole building, but since I lived alone, I hadn’t felt the need to expand my apartment. Now that I was moving Carly in with me, and knowing I’d be marrying her and knocking her up shortly, I started thinking about combining the two first floor apartments when the neighbors lease was up.

Carly wandered in after around fifteen minutes. “Smells great,” she said, making her way to the window near the kitchen area and staring out warily.

“Carly, c’mere,” I encouraged. She turned around and walked over, straight into the arm I’d held open for her. I pulled her close and kissed her temple. “You’re safe, kitten,” I reassured her. “I’m here, and I’ve got guys watching the building.” I felt her shoulders droop slightly as she relaxed. Kissing her temple again, I held a spoon of the sauce I was stirring to her mouth. She put her mouth around it and just like that, I was hard as fuck again.

“Damn, Brandon. It’s so good,” she moaned. Special, I reminded myself as I guided her to a chair at the kitchen table, saying a prayer to the Virgin Mary. Seemed appropriate considering the circumstances.

“Tell me about how you know Nic and why you decided to help him.” Nic had told me some, but I wanted to hear the full story from Carly.

“What do you want to know?” she asked guardedly.

I frowned at her. “All of it. Start from the beginning.”

She sighed and put an elbow on the table, resting her chin in her hand, watching me as I moved around preparing the food.

“You know about my childhood, mostly. I was home schooled, for lack of a better term,” she spit acidly. “So, I didn’t have a lot of friends, only the kids of my father’s”—she made air quotes—“‘trusted’ men. However, he still made sure I went to Sunday school, needing to keep up appearances and all. We couldn’t have Father Gannon damning him to Hell,” she sneered, rolling her eyes. “As though he doesn’t already have a personally engraved throne at the devil’s side.”

I put the breaded chicken and French bread in the oven and sat at the table with her. Picking up the clenched fist in her lap, I pulled her fingers apart and began to massage her hand.

She sighed, her eyes closing in bliss. “Wow, who knew a simple hand massage could cause such comfort?” she said with surprise.

I smiled. “My mother used to do it for me and my brothers when we were sick.”

Carly’s eyes softened and the sides of her lips turned up. “That’s really sweet.”

“I’m a sweet guy,” I quipped, earning myself an eye roll and a chuckle.

“Anyway, I met a girl who had an Italian father and an Irish mother. Meagan’s mother was considered a traitor and disowned by her family, but she still brought her daughter to Father Gannon’s Sunday school classes. As we got older, we got creative in keeping in touch and stayed friends.” Carly cast her eyes down and dropped her other hand to the table, drawing circles with her finger. I gave her hand a deliberate squeeze to remind her I was with her and urge her to continue.

Meagan was Enzo’s cousin, but her father worked with Nic’s uncle Antonio in one of our legit businesses, and I didn’t know either of them well.

“One day, I don’t even remember what I did, I pissed off my da and he beat the shit out of me.” She flinched, and I realized I’d gripped her hand hard and immediately gentled my touch. “He locked me in the basement of our house, but Tommy had taught me to pick a lock, so my da had no idea I often slipped out of the cellar door. I couldn’t go anywhere, but stepping into the open and the fresh air kept me from going insane.”

She suddenly withdrew her hand from mine and stood, pacing to the window, but I could tell she wasn’t seeing anything beyond the glass.

“I don’t—I don’t like dark, small spaces,” she admitted with a shudder. “I was sitting at the top of the stairs when I heard yelling through an open window a few floors up. My da was arguing with another man. They were fighting over the price of a new shipment.” She turned and faced me, her eyes full of rage. “A shipment of girls.”

Nic had told me the O’Reillys were moving into the slave trade, but I hadn’t realized the information had come from Carly. A pang of regret hit me for the way I’d, kind of, accused her of betraying us. It was in the past though, and we were moving forward.

“I wanted to tell Tommy, but I knew him too well. He would have tried to save the day and gotten himself killed. But, I needed to tell someone. So, the next time I met Meagan at the market, I confessed it all to her. She begged me to let her tell Nic. She swore he would help, that I could trust him.”

She shook her head ruefully. “It took her some time to convince me. No matter how awful my family is, I was raised to believe the DeLucas were the enemy. That they were as evil as mine.” She looked up at me, her eyes pleading for understanding. A lump formed in my throat as it hit me how much guilt she was carrying. I stood and went to her, pulling her into my arms, and kissing her head.

“There were no good choices, Carly. No one can blame you for the path you chose.”

She sighed and buried her head in my shirt, sniffling. Knowing Carly, I was sure she was mortified to be shedding tears in front of me, so I ignored them, despite my desire to wipe them away and comfort her.

“Eventually, my guilt overrode my fear and I agreed to have Meagan set up a meeting with Nic. I told my father I was going to confession and met Nic at the church. As soon as she introduced us, I asked her to leave. I’m not sure she would have if not for Nic. I don’t know what he said to her, but she agreed to leave. He was smart enough to know I didn’t want her involved or for any of this to trace back to her. She still has no idea. I agreed to help Nic take my family down, and he agreed to protect me. My father thinks he rules with an iron fist and he believed I would never betray him. It helped that he thinks women are no better than chattel. So he didn’t bother to hide things from me.” She shrugged and looked up at me with watery eyes. “After our—um—incident, I went to Tommy and told him I needed to disappear.”

I refused to be grateful to that bastard for keeping my girl safe. If I ever met him, I was pretty sure I’d kick his ass. Instead, I focused on how fucking proud I was of Carly. So much so, I had no words. With nothing to say, I lifted her chin and softly kissed her.

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