Page 118 of Dublin Beast

The war room seems colder than usual.

It might be the stone walls and floor or the lack of sunlight down here… or maybe it’s just me. Ever since Harper turned on me in that parking lot and started looking at me like I’m some kind of monster, I’ve been caught between the bloodshed of my life and proving I’m more than a thug.

Caught between danger and domesticity.

Caught betweenherandwhat I’ve become

The family meeting has been put on hold while Tag takes a call. He’s pacing near the monitors waiting for an update from Aiden and Hennessey on something that’s going on down at the docks.

Sean and Brendan are over near the sideboard muttering about a weapons shipment from the Bratva that needs to get rerouted to Chicago. The two of them are smoking one of Finn’s latest exotic blends.

He’s calling it Turkish Delight.

Finn’s glued to his laptop, fingers flying, earbuds in. His mouth is moving but he’s not talking to any of us—just whispering to the AI overlords he lives to impress.

And me?

I’m sitting here with my legs kicked out in front of me, one arm slung over the back of my chair, staring at the Celtic carvings of the war table. But my focus is upstairs.

She’s upstairs.

Not just in the same building, but inmy home. She’s spent the past two nights sleeping in my bed. Well, if you can call the fitful state of panic she’s drawn into during her hours of slumber sleeping.

Still, she’s doing better. Healing slowly. Eating more.

She’s still guarded. Still tormented by taking a life, by covering it up, by handling things the Quinn way. But it’s the only way. If Eddie Mason’s uncle finds out his idiot nephew was killed by an independent woman with no connections, he’ll track her down and end her.

It makes him look vulnerable and weak.

But if Eddie was killed during a mob on mob exchange and was taken out while in Quinn territory, raiding a Quinn safehouse, then the Mason family can save face.

They don’t like it. There is definitely bad blood between our families now, but they won’t make a move to retaliate.

It’s the way of our world.

Harper has a sense of honor and justice I admire, but in this circumstance, the truth would not set her free.

It would get her killed.

Tag’s not happy about this whole mess following us back from England, but he’ll take the hit, and we’ll deal with it.

The question I keep coming up against is after watching me kill Mason’s men with my bare hands, does she see me as a predator or a protector?

She hasn’t brought it up—what I did to Mason’s men—and I haven’t pressed her about it.

She’s here. That’s good enough for now.

It feelsrightin a way that scares the absolute hell out of me but I’m not going to question it. After existing in a void of hollow despair for so long, feeling anything is incredible.

I love watching her work. Listening to her mutter as she peels through documents and digital footprints.

She’s getting close to unraveling Eddie’s sex ring.

Whether she’ll find Macie or Chantal or Zhara alive, I don’t know. But when this is all over, she’ll know she fought like hell and did everything humanly possible to set things right. She’ll make sure the men responsible for their suffering never sleep easy again.

She’s a beast in her own rite.

Tag ends his call, dragging me out of my thoughts.

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