Page 56 of Steel Rain

“It only took a bit of a strong arm,” Keith said with pride, as if he had been complimented on his expert handling. Not doubted for the ease in which he accomplished his task.

For all his good looks, Keith certainly lacked a little something in his understanding of nuance. An understanding that wasn’t lost on Eoghan.

“Why do you want guardianship of Sibby, then?” Eoghan asked.

“Well, I think she’s a good girl. And the sisters were always so close.” Keith leaned back in his seat. “She needs a good, strong, guiding, masculine hand.” He smirked. “Anyway, Sinead is a flight risk. I’m a more reliable guardian.”

My skin prickled. There was nothingpaternalabout his tone. Not one bit.

Keith took a drink of his tall stout, staring at Eoghan, searching for some kind of reaction. Maybe validation that his words were believed, despite the lie dripping from every syllable.

No, I pegged Keith for what he truly was. A handsome narcissist. And his issues with Sinead came down to one thing – that she had left him. Thatshehad lefthim. The rejection stung, and he was of a mind to get retribution.

I wonder if he had ever been rejected before that moment.

“We’ll discuss that at a later time,” Eoghan said, giving a non-answer.

“If she’s such a flight risk, I’m surprised you want to marry her still,” I finally put in, trying to give my words a pensive, curious air. “You must really love her.”

Keith chuckled, and brought an elbow to the table, laying his other hand flat on his knee, his elbow up, almost squaring off with me. I wondered if that was in challenge. Had he seen my interest in the girl? Or was any man who discussed Sinead a challenge to him?

“I’m not handfasting the wench!” he laughed through his words, his thick, high, Irish accent sounded bizarre when he was buzzed. “It’s just a marriage.”

What a strange sentiment. But I was curious now. “I don’t follow.”

Dairo almost looked embarrassed. Eoghan seemed annoyed. Keith just looked like a condescending prick, looking at me, the outsider, from above his aquiline nose.

“You’ve been around us so long, Ajax, I sometimes forget that you don’t know our ways,” Eoghan said, bringing his delicate little glass to his lips. “Handfasting, like my parents did, is something you only do once. It has no legal bearings in this country—”

“Or any other country, for that matter,” Dairo interjected.

“—But a custom we retained.” Eoghan’s black eyes turned to me. “In our world, a handfast is an oath between us and God, and every other Irishman in our midst. It is sacred. And enforceable by any member of the community. Which means that if someone was unfaithful to their handfasted spouse, then …”

“Their spouse gets to choose their punishment, and all of us are honor-bound to enforce it.” Keith looked at the steak knife in his hand, twisting it back and forth in the shadows.

“Really?” I narrowed my eyes. Medieval. Brutal. And fucking insane.

“Aye,” Eoghan said with a nod, bringing a finger to his lips. “When you’re handfasted, then the vows and promises of your wife become your own. Your life, your personhood are joined as one.”

“But as I said, I won’t be doing that with Sinead Flanagan,” Keith said.

“So, you can cheat on her?”

“It’s not cheating,” Keith said with a roll of his eyes. “It’s an arranged marriage. You’ll find that arrangements are found in the mafia, the bratva, and even among us Irish.”

“So, she can take a lover?” I was baiting him.

“Absolutely not!” Keith’s eyes narrowed. “A wife, is a wife, is awife. It’s different. But our domestic issues are between a man and his woman. Not me and the community at large.” He chuckled, spearing his fork into the meat, the blood running down the sides of the morsel. “Ourmarriagewould be far moretraditional.”

That word made my spine tingle with hatred. Tradition. A word used for all sorts of abuses. If something has been done, and always been done, thensomepeople feel it is their right to do it for all eternity. To harm, and oppress. I had no doubt that was exactly what Bournes intended.

“And if she doesn’t want to be so traditional?” I asked. “She doesn’t strike me as a traditional type of woman.”

I was hovering over a land mine, my foot ready to stomp and blow us all to pieces.

“That’s no one’s business but mine,” Keith dropped his fork. “And you won’t be interfering.”

“It’ll be no one’s business but yoursafteryou are married,” Eoghan agreed, but there was that strange inflection. The emphasis on a marriage that I knew would not be happening. Not now. Not ever. Over my dead body.

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