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“He seems like a jerk,” I offered quietly.

“He likes to pick on those smaller than him, specifically women. It’s why I don’t blame my mum for leaving us,” he admitted softly. “If he treated her anything like he treated me growing up, then I don’t blame her for running.”

“How did he treat you?” My voice was raspy, afraid of what his answer would be.

Dermot’s eyes were shaded dark with pain as he shook his head. “Doesn’t matter, baby girl. He can’t pull that shit now, and that’s all that matters.”

“Why is he here?”

“Because he wants back into the family business and King refuses to let him in, just like his father did.” He chuckled. “When your own brother doesn’t want you to be part of something, you think he would get the hint. I don’t know why he complains; he gets more than enough money from the legal trading business we do.”

“Maybe it isn’t about the money?”

His eyes darkened. “It’s always about the money for him.”

I froze as I heard the garden door open. I knew we weren’t doing anything wrong, but I still felt like we were in a compromising position. Dermot didn’t move me though; he simply gripped my hips tighter as any expression disappeared from his face, making me know exactly who it was. Guess that meeting was rather short. Not that it surprised me—it seemed like this guy was really pushing his luck being here.

“I see America is treating you well.” His father’s voice was more of a sneer now that Yates wasn’t around, his eyes running over me as he approached. Dermot gently moved me off his lap and stood, blocking me from his view, his body tense despite his calm voice.

“You’re not welcome here, and I know King made that clear,” he said evenly, the warning clear.

“You have always let King handle everything for you,” his father bit back. “One of the many reasons you’re a disappointment as a son. You should be the one in that fucking office.”

Dermot tensed but relaxed a tad as I ran a hand up his back and stood with my head against his spine, trying to offer my support. It was all too clear just how bad their relationship was, and I didn’t know what exactly to do.

Well, I had thoughts on what to do, but they weren’t legal and I honestly hadn’t realized I was capable of having such violent urges. Then again, the idea of someone hurting Dermot not only seemed impossible with how imposing he was, but made me absolutely furious.

“You’re just mad because he won’t give you what you want.” Dermot’s accent was thicker with both amusement and frustration. “Like I said, you’re not welcome here.”

His father stepped closer, and my eyes widened at the anger and pure hatred on his face.Holy moly.He really hated Dermot. I had never thought it was possible for a parent to hate their child like this.

My arm wrapped around Dermot’s waist as I plastered myself to his back further.

“You can’t even get your own woman, fucking the same whore that your cous—”

Dermot cut off his father’s words with a hand gripping his throat. My eyes widened as Dermot literally tossed the man back out of his space and gently removed my hands from around him, stepping forward and into his father’s face as he staggered to his feet.

“Do not talk about her. Do you understand me?” His voice was terrifyingly cold.

I shivered, my toes curling at his tone, as his father rubbed his neck but let out a cold, hard laugh. He was a big guy, but Dermot was huge.

“I will talk about her how I want; she’s on our family land,” he growled. “I’ll even have her back to my fucking quarters if I want. What’s one more person between her legs—Oh, fuck.”

My face drained of color as Dermot grabbed his shoulder and punched him hard in the gut, whispering something in his ear. His father’s eyes went dark as he jolted back, and Dermot stood there, seeming to wait on something. After a moment, his father turned as if to leave, and Dermot took a step back, looking at me almost to assure himself I was still there. Of course that meant he didn’t see the crap his father tried to pull.

“Dermot,” I whispered, my eyes wide.

I could hear the sound of the slap so clearly through the garden as my own body trembled. The action was so hard and cold. Practiced. This wasn’t the first time he had hit someone like that, and if I had to guess from the way Dermot’s entire body went frozen, it wasn’t the first time his father had hit him. I had seen far more extensive violence lately, but this was different.

A red mark appeared on Dermot’s turned cheek, my throat failing to produce any noise as I noted the haunted look passing over Dermot’s face as he finally looked back at his father. I couldn’t see his expression, but from the way his father paled, I was going to guess it wasn’t good.

I tried to move forward, wanting to stop Dermot or maybe to help him… I honestly wasn’t positive at this point. I let out a small grunt as an arm locked around my waist, my head snapping up to find King, holding me to him unyieldingly. Almost bruising. But he wasn’t focused on me, his eyes dark and cold on Dermot’s father. My hands tightened into fists as I looked back, watching his father start to tremble in realization that he’d messed up. The energy in the garden was absolutely venomous.

“You have one chance to leave.” Dermot’s voice was darker than I’d ever heard it. “I don’t want to kill you in front of Dahlia, so I am giving you one fucking chance.”

I wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to hold back for my benefit.

“This is my fucking house, I should be living here—”


Tags: M. Sinclair The Shadows of Wildberry Lane Erotic