Page 109 of Dublin Beast

I understand the pain. I understand his need for justice. I even understand loyalty to the man who raised you with love in a brutal world—but understanding something doesn’t mean I condone it.

An explanation isn’t the same thing as a reason, and sure as hell isn’t an excuse.

Bryan Quinn has blood on his hands and steel in his spine but there are many sides to the man.

The protector. The enforcer. The killer. The lover.

To forgive him means I accept all of it—all ofhim—and I’m not sure I can do that.

A fist-pounding knock at the door breaks through my thoughts. Followed by another.And another.

It’s not a polite knock.

Seriously? Did Tag call him? Did Bryan hear about me meeting with Tag to ask him questions and rush right over to give me hell?

To tell me I could’ve and should’ve asked him?

I grit my teeth and stomp toward the door. “Of course he did,” I mutter under my breath. “Because Bryan Quinn needs to be the big man and the center of?—”

I yank open the door.

And my blood runs cold.

It’snotBryan.

Standing on my porch like a phantom from a nightmare, Eddie Mason is flanked by two men in black coats. His suit is pressed. His hair is slicked. His eyes are cold and wild.

“Hello again, Harper.”

I stumble back a step, the door swinging wide behind me.

“Stay here,” Eddie snaps over his shoulder to his men. “I’ll handle this myself.”

My instincts scream, and Irun.

Through the foyer. Around the corner. Up the stairs.

Footsteps thunder behind me.

I hit the upstairs hall, screaming as he almost gets his fingers around my ankle from the stairs. His touch makes me stumble and I hit the wall with my shoulder.

The picture I knock falls to the floor, the glass shattering on the hardwood.

My mind is spinning a million miles an hour, my gaze darting for something—anything—I can use as a weapon.

The main bedroom has a balcony that runs along the garage. Maybe I could make the jump and be over the neighbor’s fence before the men on the porch realize.

It’s the only plan I have.

My pulse is in my throat as I run for it, pumping my legs to get to the bedroom I’ve been using before Eddie can catch me.

Say what you want about him being a creep and an idiot, the asshole is fast. I’m almost to the door when I feel his reaching fingers skim the nape of my neck.

I’ll never make it to the balcony.

On a dime, I turn when I get inside the bedroom and slam both my hands into the door to slam it shut. It won’t close. He’s got his leg in the way and pushes me back with a brutal shove.

I’m thrown backward and land on my tailbone with bruising force. Still, I can’t dwell on it. Adrenaline allows me to roll to the side and reach for the lamp on a side table as I scramble back to my feet.

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