Patrick: An Irish Mafia Romance Novella Read online

  No. She wasn’t going to get all soft and nostalgic over Patrick now.

  It was harder to keep up the shield, though. Here, in this place, where she might die or god knew what else. It was easy to sit in front of Patrick in her normal life, where she felt safe and secure, and say that no, this was just a one-time thing, a reconnection over nostalgia, a mistake, a moment of passion.

  It was harder to lie to herself now when she was literally handcuffed to a damn bed.

  Did she still love Patrick? Did she still have the same feelings for him that she’d had before?

  Yes. She’d admitted that to herself, walking home before she’d been jumped like some idiot. She was never going to stop kicking herself for that, honestly. She should’ve brought her mace with her. But did loving Patrick still—did that mean—she couldn’t really want to still be with him, could she?

  Sinead cracked her neck. “Y’know I could really use some of that Chinese takeout,” she called.

  The guard looked like he was considering how much trouble he’d be in if he clobbered her to get her to go unconscious again.

  An odd sound came from downstairs.

  Sinead frowned, as did the guard. That kicked her heart up into high gear. The guard didn’t look like he was expecting anyone to be arriving. Which might be a good thing. If he was expecting someone it was probably a guard change at best or—well, she didn’t want to think about what else it might be and what it might mean for her personal safety.

  But if the guard didn’t know what or who that was… could it be…?

  Sinead looked around, wishing she had a weapon of some kind. If only there was something, if only she wasn’t chained to this stupid bed…

  The guard got up, giving her an impatient look. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  Sinead flipped him off.

  The man went downstairs. She hadn’t gotten to see what was down there—she’d been unconscious for that bit, thanks—but she presumed it was a lobby or another apartment or something.

  Please be Dad, please somehow be Dad, please let the Donaghues have agreed to a counterstrike…

  Sinead heard a noise behind her and jumped, whirling around. Was there another guard she hadn’t known about? Was—

  …what was Patrick… that was Patrick slipping in through the window.

  Sinead knew she was gaping at him but she couldn’t quite get herself to stop. “What the fuck are you doing here?” she hissed.

  “Rescuing the girl, what’s it look like I’m doing?” Patrick replied, pulling out his lockpicks.

  Sinead held still so he could get her out of her handcuffs. She ignored the flutter in her stomach that excitedly pointed out that he was coming for her, he’d rescued her, despite the risks that came with that. “You know you’re starting a war with this, right?”

  “No, I’m not. It’s just me.” Patrick got her out of the cuffs and gently rubbed her wrists, checking for damage. “Well, me and a few Russians. They’re the ones murdering the guard downstairs.”

  Sinead knew that she should probably feel a bit bad or even disgusted by that prospect, murder, but she’d grown up in the mob. And these men would’ve done worse to her if they’d been told to. So no, she wasn’t going to cry all that much over their deaths.

  Patrick helped her to stand up, his gaze roaming frantically over her body. “Did they hurt you? Did they—”

  “I’m okay. They chloroformed me, so I have a headache, but that’s it.”

  Patrick pulled some pills out of his pocket, in a small Ziploc bag. “I thought that might be the case. Figured they’d use chloroform and not a bat or something, don’t want to damage the goods too much in the beginning.” He sounded like his rage was on a tight leash, just waiting for the moment it could be let out. “Here, I’ll get you some water.”

  She swallowed the pills and took the water gratefully. She’d had barely anything to drink and nothing to eat. “I’m starved.”

  “I’ll get you something, whatever you want. Soon as we’re back home.”

  “How are you even with the Russians?”

  “Sokolov territory, in between ours and the McCourts’. I got their permission to cross through and they agreed they’d help us out so that we could avoid a full-scale war.”

  “Always the tricky one,” she murmured.

  Patrick squeezed her hands, his eyes soft. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Sinead nodded. “I’m sure. They didn’t do anything.”

  “They would have,” Patrick growled, his jaw tightening. “That’s what matters. C’mon, let’s get out of here, get you home.”

  The Russians gave Patrick a few raised eyebrows as he led her to the car with an arm around her shoulders and practically radiating protectiveness. Sinead couldn’t help but look up and down the street, expecting an explosion of firepower at any moment. They couldn’t possibly have snuck in and out without getting detected—

  But this was Patrick they were talking about. Patrick who’d stolen cars for fun, snuck in and out of his security-monitored home, robbed banks and got into his dad’s business deals just to piss his father off. If anyone could sneak into enemy territory with just a few Russians babysitting him and get her back out again without anyone knowing, it would be him.

  He helped her into the waiting car, then spoke to the Russians outside. Sinead didn’t understand what they were saying—Patrick and Sean had both grown up learning Japanese and Russian, for business purposes with the other mafia families, but she hadn’t learned it. Her family still spoke Gaelic at home half the time, for crying out loud.

  Patrick got into the car. “To headquarters,” he said sharply.

  “Are they all right?”

  Patrick nodded. “We’ve got you, I’m taking you home, there won’t be a war since the McCourts can’t strike back at us for taking back someone that actually is a part of our family, and they’ve got no leverage to start a war without you. We get you back, so we don’t have a need to start a war. It’s all good.”

  Sinead realized that her hands were shaking. So much of that could have gone wrong. “If you’d been caught—you would’ve been—”

  He would’ve been killed on the spot by the McCourts. They would’ve started a war and they would’ve started it with his body being thrown onto the street in front of his father’s house and it would’ve been because of her. It wasn’t her fault she’d been kidnapped, she wasn’t stupid enough to think that but Patrick had still risked himself for her, his very life, a war…

  “The smart thing would’ve been to just let them do… would’ve been to let them do whatever they planned,” she whispered.

  Patrick grabbed her, pulling her into him, hugging her tightly. “No.” His voice was raw. “Your father would never have allowed that and neither would I. You’re not expendable.”

  “You risked—”

  “I’d do it again.”

  Sinead tucked her face into his shoulder, breathing carefully, still shaking. When she’d been in that room she hadn’t let herself be afraid, hadn’t given in because she wasn’t going to die with them knowing she was scared, she was going to die defiant but now that she was safe she could feel the chill in her stomach and creeping up her spine and the hot bile in her throat—

  “Shh, shh, it’s okay,” Patrick promised her, and she realized that she was crying. He gently stroked through her hair. “You’re okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” He pressed a kiss to her hair.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I shouldn’t be—I’m fine.”

  “You’re allowed to be upset, they fucking kidnapped you.” Patrick’s voice was a whip crack. “I’d like to do a hell of a lot more than just take out their grunts but… maybe next week.”

  “Don’t be stupid.”

  “I won’t,” he promised.

  Oddly enough, unlike all the promises he’d made to her before, when they were younger, all the ones he’d broken… she believed this one.
/>   They rolled up to the brownstone and Patrick helped her out of the car. “Ah, one quick thing.” He took her hand and squeezed apologetically, grimacing. “I didn’t get permission from my dad to do this.”

  Sinead gaped at him for the second time that day. “Trick, you aren’t telling me…”

  The door to the brownstone burst open and Sean stormed out. “Patrick, you motherfucker!”

  He froze, staring. “Sinead?”

  She waved awkwardly. “Hey, Sean.”

  To her shock, Sean hurried over and yanked her into a hug. They’d grown up together but they hadn’t been super close the last few years. She couldn’t remember the last time that they’d hugged—they’d been teenagers, she thought.

  “Holy shit,” Sean said, stepping back, his hands on her shoulders. “How did—Patrick, what the fuck?”

  “You and Father couldn’t do anything officially, I get that, I do. We couldn’t afford a war. So I acted on my own.”

  “How.”

  “I got passage through the bratva territory, convinced them that it would be bad for their business if they got in the middle of a war between us and the McCourts. They sent a couple of men to help me get Sinead out and keep an eye on me to be sure I wasn’t up to any funny business. They went back home, I brought her here.” Patrick paused. “Also I did borrow your car and your driver without asking so. Sorry about that.”

  Sean stared at him for a long moment, his hands falling from Sinead’s shoulders. She swallowed, her stomach twisting with nervousness.

  It was reckless, yes, what Patrick had done, but it also solved the problem and got them out of the corner they’d been forced into. And it had saved her life. She just hoped he wouldn’t get in trouble for it.

  But Sean didn’t yell at Patrick—he hugged him.

  Patrick looked about as stunned as Sinead felt. He looked over at her, eyes wide, as if silently asking her what to do.

  She mimed patting Sean on the back.

  Patrick slowly put his arms around his brother, hugging him in return, patting him on the back carefully as though Sean were a bomb that might go off with too much pressure.

  Sean pulled back, clapping Patrick’s shoulders. “Father’s going to have an absolute shit fit over this at first,” he warned. “But that was—that was well handled.” Sean looked over at Sinead. “Your parents are inside. We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”

  Her parents were sitting at the dining room table, clearly nervous. She could tell that Dad was trying to be calm for Mom, but neither of them looked like they had gotten much sleep.

  God, how they must’ve wondered all night why she hadn’t come home, and then finding out what had happened to her—she didn’t know how they’d learned, how Patrick had learned, but it couldn’t have been pleasant. How did someone even deal with that, learning their child had been kidnapped and was going to be harmed?

  As she entered, her parents looked up.

  Mom jumped up immediately. “Sinead!” She ran over, hugging her. “Oh my darling, my girl, you’re safe. Thank god you’re safe.”

  Dad stood up more slowly, like he wasn’t quite sure that he was actually seeing her. Sinead had never seen her father cry before, but now his eyes were wet and he had a small, relieved smile on his face.

  “I’m okay,” she promised, hugging her mom back and smiling at her dad. “I’m all right, Patrick got me out, I’m okay. They didn’t do anything to me.”

  “Besides chain her to a bed,” Patrick growled, clearly still pissed.

  “With me, you little shit,” Sean said, gesturing for Patrick to follow him upstairs, but it was said with affection.

  Patrick glanced at her, as if waiting for her permission to leave. Sinead nodded. She was fine. She was with her parents and just needed to reassure them that she was, in fact, not about to reveal she’d lost an ear or something.

  Mom led her to the table and sat her down. “We haven’t told your sisters yet,” she admitted. “We wanted to wait and see if there really wasn’t anything that could be done before we… before we…”

  “It’s okay,” Sinead said gently. She squeezed her mother’s hand. “I promise that I’m all right. And I understand—I would’ve understood if you hadn’t been able to come after me.”

  “I would’ve gone after you myself,” Dad said gruffly. He was a gruff man by nature, not hugely prone to displays of emotion, but Sinead could hear how his voice was choked up. “But when we realized Patrick had gone missing, Sean suspected that the little bugger had something up his sleeve.”

  “He’s a tricky one,” Sinead replied. “He convinced the bratva to let him through their territory to get to me, and they even gave him an escort to help. They didn’t want to be caught in the middle of a war, I guess it was worth the risk to them sending a couple men on a rescue mission.”

  She was acutely aware that she was admitting that Patrick had not only put his life on the line for her, but had convinced several strangers from another mafia family to do the same. She could feel her face heating up as her parents stared at her.

  “Nice change to see the boy using his powers for good for once,” Dad said at last, his voice a little less rough.

  “You… were on a date with him before you were taken,” Mom said slowly.

  “Oh, no.” Sinead shook her head, letting go of her mother’s hand. “We’re not doing this.” Especially not where someone in the Donaghue family could overhear.

  “You’ve never dated anyone this whole time—”

  Sinead ran a hand through her hair. “Yes, all right, maybe it was—maybe I’m impressed with what he did. He got me to safety, he took care of me, he risked himself for me and made me a priority. Above his own family, even. But… you remember how he was, what he did.”

  “What was he like last night?” Mom asked.

  Dad looked like he was completely unprepared for this turn of the conversation and was staring pointedly at a spot on the wall.

  “Mom, is this really the time?” Sinead stood up just as Bridget entered.

  Her parents stood up as well, out of respect.

  “You three are welcome to go home,” Bridget said. She gave a warm smile. “We’re so glad that Sinead’s all right. Sean and Seamus are discussing Patrick’s actions, but we’re glad that he got you back safely, and that’s the most important thing. O’Leary, we’re grateful you trusted us to tell us about this instead of turning on us to protect your daughter. We understand that you must’ve known there was a risk you’d never get her back for staying true to us, and we honor your loyalty. We’ll be discussing a way to properly reward you once Patrick is taken care of.”

  “You won’t punish him, will you?” Sinead blurted out, starting forward.

  She knew that Bridget technically wasn’t in charge but she had Sean’s ear and his respect. It was said that Sean didn’t do anything without Bridget’s approval. She’d been only with him a few months before he’d remarried her properly and he’d been head over heels for her in just six weeks of meeting her, or so everyone said. And Seamus Donaghue liked and respected her. If anyone could persuade the Donaghue men to go easy on Patrick, it would be Bridget.

  “He saved my life, and he risked his own to do it,” Sinead went on. “I don’t think that kind of selflessness should be punished.”

  “I don’t know what my husband and father-in-law have planned,” Bridget admitted, her voice and face giving away nothing of her own thoughts. “But I’m sure that they’ll take your thoughts on the matter into consideration. As I said, we’re glad that you’re safe and that we’ve avoided a clan war.”

  She gestured towards the doorway that led to the front of the house, and Sinead knew that they were being officially dismissed.

  Dad drove them home, Mom holding onto her hand the entire time. “It was a real catch 22 they had us in,” Dad admitted quietly, when they were about halfway there. “If we didn’t go after you they wouldn’t have just killed you. They would’ve made it known th
at we hadn’t done anything to save you. It would’ve made us look cowardly and disloyal to the other families.”

  Patrick had truly saved them—no matter what else they’d have done, they would have lost. “I’m here, though. I’m okay.”

  He smiled softly at her in the rearview mirror. “I know.”

  Her sisters were both out for the night, or so Mom said. Kate had a dance rehearsal and Siobhan was with friends.

  Sinead was grateful. She wasn’t really in the mood to pretend that everything was fine and she didn’t see a reason to tell her sisters about her kidnapping now that it was all said and done. Siobhan would just be angry that nobody had told her beforehand and Kate would be terrified about getting kidnapped for a month and wouldn’t go anywhere without an escort.

  Mom got her something to eat—she was starving—and Dad made some coffee for all of them.

  “Are you sure that they didn’t…” Mom started.

  Sinead shook her head, smiling in thanks as Mom put a large sandwich down in front of her. “No, they didn’t touch me. Just knocked me out and then tied me down. I think they were waiting to start doing… that… when they could film it or take pictures to send to you if you didn’t comply.”

  It felt so odd to be sharing this information so clinically, so calmly. As though it had happened to someone else and not to her.

  Mom looked like she might start crying all over again. Sinead looked at her father, unsure what to do to make it better. She was fine, she was safe, but that didn’t mean that the fear had gone away. That sick twisted feeling was still in her stomach but no matter how awful it was for her she couldn’t imagine what it was like for her mother, helpless while her baby girl was held captive.

  She had to change the subject somehow, make things better.

  “So, Patrick,” she blurted out.

  Dad raised his eyebrows, looking slightly amused, and then stood up to wash some dishes. Or at least pretend to wash some dishes.

  Mom blinked a few times, and Sinead was relieved to see the tears fading away. “Yes?”

  Well, now that she was on the subject, Sinead wasn’t sure how to continue. It was distracting her mom at least, though, so that was something. “Ah. I think that… I think that you’re… I think you’re right.”