Damage: Dark Irish Mafia Romance (O'Sullivan Brothers Book 5) by Rie Warren

Author:Rie Warren [Warren, Rie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rie Warren
Published: 2024-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

The next week was too busy for us to get any more of our shit together.

In between keeping a close eye on Derry wherever she went, I still had other mafia business to take care of.

We were barely able to sneak some kisses, steal some caresses. Longest friggin’ foreplay in history.

Blue balls? They were probably fuckin’ purple by now.

Before I knew it, it was Valentine’s Day. Freakin’ Valentine’s Day . . . when had I ever given a crap about that before? Never.

I wondered if Derry had given any thought to the holiday. If she had, she was keeping it close to her chest. In fact, she’d begged me to let her spend the afternoon painting at her studio and asked for absolute privacy to do so, acting more than a little squirrelly.

Knowing the shitstorm we were in the middle of—instigated by my cunt dad—the thought of allowing her to be alone went against every instinct in my body. I’d gone along with her request only after I’d spent a good hour scoping out the building, parking garage, and surrounding area first.

I had a few plans of my own to take care of, and that was how I ended up at this fancy-ass grocery store, one of those swanky specialist ones Jesse had told me about.

The place gave me fucking hives.

The shop was just crawling with millennials and friggin’ hipsters and multiple Mr. and Mrs. Moneybags.

Man, did I stick out like a sore thumb with my temple tats and battered leather jacket, the chain on my wallet jingling with each heavy step. Least they couldn’t see my Sig Sauer strapped in the shoulder holster or the KA-BAR sheathed neatly in my boot.

Next time I’d bring Gomer the mutt on a little field trip. Maybe buy him one of those badass spiked collars first. Really terrorize these snotty fucks. Truthfully, Gomer wouldn’t hurt a fuckin’ fly, but he was so hyped up, most people got scared on sight ’cause he also just happened to be like Clydesdale big.

Despite the heebie-jeebies from being surrounded by all these extra douchey douchebags, I persevered, diligently consulting my list like any other tool in the joint.

It amused me when one lady’s eyes went wide when she saw me striding down the aisle. She clutched her bag tight to her chest, as if I was gonna do a snatch-and-grab. Even funnier was the man-bun-wearing twat who tripped over his feet in his hurry to get out of my way.

I’d just dropped a bunch of overpriced arugula AKA flashy lettuce into my cart when I became aware of someone standing way too close, clearly not scared of me.

My danger radar went off just that quickly.

In mere seconds, I pulled my blade and slipped it within the sleeve of my leather. Still out of sight but at the ready.

And then the man drawled, “Well, well, well. Didn’t believe Damion at first. Had to see it with my own fuckin’ eyes. Junior . . . the O’Sullivan brothers’ new pussy.

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