What the fuck just happened? I thought to myself as I flopped back down on the sleeping bag, wearing only my jeans. I just fucked Fergus’ daughter, who I might add, is only twenty years old, I’m fucking twice her age. Hell, I could be her dad for god sakes! Talk about a bloody lack in judgement. The worst is I would do it again and again. Having had her now, I realized that my desire for her is far from being satisfied. She haunted my mind all the fucking time and nothing I did or try could make it go away. Earlier when we were nearly caught by the Bronx Raiders, I was terrified that I would lose her before I even got a chance to get to know her. Fergus did a good thing not getting her too involved with his life before now; otherwise every fucking prick on the staff would have wanted a piece of her. I stretched my hands back behind my head and stared up at the green canvas top above me. I could still feel my dick twitching in my pants, ready to go at it again and again. Her tight pussy was right outside this tent, but I’ve complicated shit enough to know better. Frustrated with myself I sat up and rubbed my hand over my face. My beard had grown and right now, I’m sure I looked my age despite what she said.

Through the opening in the tent I watched her; she was sitting by the fire, holding a stick in the coals. She didn’t look twenty, maybe twenty five. She was mature for her age, with curves in all the right places. Her red hair pinned on top of her head, reminded me of Celtic goddess, pure and untainted, until now anyway. Now she was brandished by me and I wasn’t proud of myself at all.

Somewhere between the Cabin and the Campsite I had fallen for her, and it was probably the worst mistake I could have made. All my life, I never once bothered to find love, to me it was just another way to add shackles and imprison a man. Women wanted dedication; they wanted you to sacrifice everything in the name of love. And after what had happened to Brianna, Fergus’ wife and Alana’s mother, I would never have considered putting my heart on the line like that. For me, going to night clubs and sex clubs was enough. Satisfy my body and mind and leave my heart out of it, but now I wasn’t so sure about that anymore. If anything had to happen to Alana, I would only have myself to blame.

I wondered what was going through her mind this very minute. She had been a virgin, and I was sure that she hadn’t planned on losing her virginity to a criminal, but yet she begged me to fuck her. She wanted me as much as I wanted her as much as I still wanted her.

A short while later, Alana came back into the tent, her skin glowed from the heat of the camp fire but her eyes were cold and distant.

“Everything okay?” I asked as I shifted up for her to lie down.

“Yeah, I’m good,” she said in a slightly pitched tone.

She lay down with her back against me, and for a second I wanted to pull her into my arms, but maybe this was a better idea. If I show her any form of endearment, she might take it up wrong, but if I can get her to dislike me, we won’t have any of this happen again.

“Irish,” she whispered, her back still against me.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” she sighed.

Confused I perched myself up on my elbow and studied her, “Thank you for what?”

She turned and looked at me and hooked her one arm behind her head, while she rested her other arm on her stomach, “Well if we end up dying, at least I would know what sex is like,” she said staring straight up.

“Alana, there’s much more to discover, and I am sure once this is all over, you’ll be discovering all these things with a guy your age.”

She huffed, “Guys my age, couldn’t possibly know what a woman wants.”

“And I did?” I asked raising a brow.

She didn’t answer me, simply turned back on her side, and whispered a quiet goodnight.

Before dawn I was up and getting ready to move, I let Alana lay in a bit; as I was sure she had as rough a night sleeping as I had. By the time I cleared the campfire and covered it with sand and leaves, she was awake. She stretched as she crawled out of the tent and my cock responded instantly.

“Good morning,” she said and smiled then walked up to me and planted a kiss on my cheek.

“Um-morning, sleep well?”

“Yeah, so what’s next?”

I could still feel her lips linger on my cheek and a rolled my shoulders, “Well I’m going to take down the tent, and then we’re going to head south-west to Mexico, We’re about three days away. If we leave now, we can get to Nashville by 7pm and stay the night. I have a connection there, so we won’t need to sleep under the stars again.

“Are we going to travel all the way to Mexico on a motorcycle?” she asked as she twisted her hair up into a bun on her head.

“Don’t know yet, will see what opportunities we are presented with.”

She shrugged and picked up a bottle of water then rinsed her mouth and spat the water out to the side, she was acting rather odd this morning, but I suppose she had enough time to think things over. Maybe last night was a good thing after all. She seemed a lot more accepting of her current predicament.

Federal Plaza—FBI Office—New York

“McCleary!” Agent Vincent called across the room.

“Yes sir?”

“So, I believe Irish was last seen with O’Devlin’s daughter, have you been able to confirm where they are headed?”

McCleary rubbed the back of his neck and then pulled out a manila file, “We suspect they are going south towards Mexico sir,” he said praying that Irish would get there long before the FBI did.

“I want people on the ground, everywhere. I want every border post covered, do you hear me?”

“Yes sir,” McCleary said and sat down behind his desk.

He had been an informant for the Labyrinths’ Cartel for over a decade. Fergus took good care of him, his wife Emily and their family, and now with the heat on Fergus O’Devlin, McCleary was starting to feel the flames licking at his ass. He had to somehow get a message to Irish without anyone sniffing him out.

He grabbed his badge, checked out his firearm and headed to his unmarked car parked undercover at the New York FBI field office. He knew his days were numbered, if the FBI didn’t catch on to his involvement with the mob, then the Bronx Raiders would. He had already spotted some of them in the city in fact; every dodgy character was a potential Raider who was out for blood. He had the evidence he needed to prove Fergus’ innocence in the drug bust, but there was no way he could get it to the necessary people without being suspected himself. As it stood, he was one hundred percent convinced that Agent Vincent was involved with the Raiders. He always seemed to know where Shamrock was, and never made any attempt to arrest him. There was always some excuse.

The clicking sound of footsteps echoed in the underground parking lot, he never noticed anyone else entering this level, which was mostly reserved for FBI vehicles. He stopped and ducked behind a concrete pillar, pacing his breathing. With his heart beating frantically in his throat he unlatched his 9mm and in the other hand he took out his private phone and sent a text to his contact in Nashville—The Cavalier is on stage. Then without waiting he took out the sim card, swallowed it and crushed the phone under his shoe.

Just then shots rang, two bullets missed him by mere inches above his head against the pillar. McCleary dropped and rolled for cover behind a white sedan. He knew he wasn’t going to make it out alive, and he was damned if he was going to be taken away and tortured for information. Lying flat on his back he looked under the cars, trying to detect any movement. The footsteps drew closer, almost calculatingly slow.

“I’m sorry Emily,” he whispered and then pulled the trigger.