“Oh my God, oh my God,” McKenna falls to the floor. “I’m so sorry. Tully. Tully, are you okay?”
I’m losing blood, pain blooming in my shoulder.
“Didn’t know you were still that angry about that spanking I gave you,” I say, forcing a grin that probably looks more like a grimace.
Boner chuckles, kneels beside me, and speaks in a calming tone to McKenna. “He’ll be fine. He’s got nine lives like a fucking cat and I think he’s got one left. Maybe even two.” Still, the poor lass is crying quietly.
“Where are your glasses, McKenna?” I ask her.
“Lost them somewhere downstairs,” she says. “It’s why I shot you, couldn’t see properly, damn it. I can’t believe I shot you. I just wanted to stop him from hurting you.”
I roll my eyes. “Just a graze,” I say, as my world goes fuzzy and hazy all at once.
“He’ll be fine, lass,” Boner repeats, but he can’t hide the way his brows knit in concern. “We’ll get him to the clan doctor fast as we can. Alright?”
She nods. “Alright,” she says. She holds my hand. “I don’t care what happens after this, Tully. I’m not leaving you. No matter how mean you get.”
I snort. I don’t do long-term relationships, and I used to think I sure as fuck don’t do pretty little doe-eyed schoolteachers. I’m still not even sure if it’s a good idea. I don’t care if her family’s affiliated with the mob, she isn’t made of stern enough stuff for the likes of us.
I hold her hand as I get to my feet.
“Get back down,” she says sternly. “You can’t move when you’re injured like this.”
“Not gonna bloody well wait for them to take me away on a stretcher.”
“No,” Boner says. “But you’ll stay there til we get Sebastian to look after you.”
“Says who?” I counter.
“Says both of us,” McKenna replies. She huddles down beside me and holds my hand in her lap.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, her face downcast. A lone tear rolls down one cheek. I hate to see her so troubled.
“It’s par for the course, lass. You’ve seen enough of me to know I’m scarred all over.”
Boner grimaces and puts his hands over his ears. “Lalalalalala! Don’t want to hear about your fucking scarred body. Jesus.”
McKenna smiles. “I especially love that one above your right buttock.”
Boner throws his head back and groans. I laugh, but it makes everything fucking hurt.
“You know what they say about shooting a man,” Boner says, with a teasing grin.
McKenna narrows her eyes but doesn’t respond.
“In some cultures that’s grounds for marriage.”
She rolls her eyes. “Boner, I’m a teacher of history, and that’s utter shite.”
He snorts. “You haven’t read the right kind of history.”
My head swarms, and I feel like I’m going to pass out. I won’t fucking let myself wimp out like that. But her voice sounds hollow and his distant as well. I close my eyes, just to rest a bit, as the world fades.
* * *
Chapter 4
McKenna
I can’t believe I’m doing this.
I shouldn’t be here.
I have papers to grade and lessons to prepare and two cats to feed, but instead I’m in the McCarthy family mansion, my eyesight blurry from not having my glasses, holding Tully’s hand while the Clan doctor inspects him.
Because I shot him.
I shouldn’t even be here. I know better than to get roped into anything with a man of the Clan.
I saw what my mother went through, how she fretted her life away wondering if her husband would come home, if every call he took or mission he accomplished would be the last, and I decided long ago I’d never be with a man of the Clan.
For one, they’re too highhanded. All “do this” and “do that.”
For another, they are criminals. I didn’t know it until I was around twelve, though I always suspected they were somehow above the law. They’re ruthless killers, savage even.
And then I met Tully.
Le. Sigh.
I watch over Tully as the men of the Clan come in and out. I know most of them by now. Keenan, the eldest, Clan leader who took over when his father Seamus was killed years ago. Cormac, Keenan’s younger brother, the co-leader of the Clan. A few others I know by name, but not personally. Lachlan, one of the younger ones, a handsome, strapping man, gives me a grin.
“Heard you shot him,” he says. “Well played, lass.”
He looks sorry when I grimace, and pats my shoulder awkwardly. “Now, now, don’t worry about it, McKenna,” he says. “We all fuck up now and again, don’t we?”
I groan.
Maeve is the only one who brings me any consolation at all. The Clan matriarch and mother to the leaders, she understands my plight and gives me exactly what I need: sympathy and understanding, but the honest truth as well.
Maeve sits next to Tully when I take the tray of food from the staff. I turn back to see him swinging his legs over the side of the bed.