Page 33 of Daring Wicked Love (Wicked Dade #2)

“That’s cheating!”

“That’s just something losers say when they suck at the game.” I smirked. “It’s not our fault that me and Penelope are better than you.”

“You play golf in your spare time,” Orla countered. “You have an unfair advantage.”

“Do you want me to help you, Orla?” Penelope and her big heart asked. My daughter was too good for this world. “Daddy showed me the best way to do it.”

“It’s fine,” Orla huffed with flaming cheeks. “I can do it by myself.”

“She’s right, I did show her the best way, and I can show you too if you let me,” I said. “It’s all about those beautiful hips of yours, Pixie.”

She peeked up from beneath her lashes. “This is a stupid game.”

“You do realize this was your idea, right? I suggested we go to the Giant’s Causeway, but you wanted to go mini-golfing. We could be standing on some rocks right now if you had listened to me.”

I was pretty certain I was about half a second away from receiving a mini-golf club to the face.

“She needs your help,” Penelope whispered from behind her hand. “She won’t say it to your face, but I think it’ll make her feel better. It always makes me feel better when you help.”

Stroking the top of my daughter’s head, I nodded. “You can always count on me to help you, mon petit soleil. ”

Avoiding the swing of Orla’s club that yet again missed the bright blue ball, I positioned myself behind her. “The aim of the game is to hit the ball.”

“I’m going to enjoy shoving this club right up your ass.”

“Kinky girl.” I placed my hands on her hips and lowered my lips to the shell of her ear. “Should we add pegging onto that bucket list?”

The club in her hand fumbled as she inhaled sharply. “Can we?”

“I’ll try anything at least once, Pixie.”

Blood rushed straight to my crotch, and being the torture she was, Orla rotated her hips slowly. “You did say it was all about the hips, right?”

“ Brat, ” I whispered as I placed my hands on her forearms. “Okay, grip your club, not too tight — okay, that’s way too loose.

” A chuckle rumbled in my chest as she stuck her tongue out to concentrate.

“Now, spread your legs. That’s my girl. Visualize where you want the ball to go and rotate your hips in time with your swing. ”

I swore everyone held their breath as Orla hit the ball.

The second it went into the hole, Penelope ran straight for us and jumped into my arms. “You did it!”

“I actually did it.” Orla peeled her eyes away from the ball and punched the air in triumph. “I’ve never hit a hole in one before!”

“Atta girl, I knew you could do it,” I praised, lapping in the sight of her blush spreading to the tips of her ears. “I’m proud of you.”

“I told you helping her would make her feel better.” Penelope wrapped her arms around my neck. “My teacher says that helping others is the best way to make your heart happy.”

The smile of pride etched onto Orla’s face was living proof that Penelope’s teacher wasn’t wrong.

After finishing and narrowly winning the game, we spent the rest of the afternoon driving around the coastal route of the island.

There were few places I had visited during my life that took my breath away, but the sheer beauty of Ireland and its green land stole the air right from my lungs.

Not to mention the woman beside me in the car made the place even more spectacular and memorable.

Stopping in the city of Derry for dinner, everything was going great. Another perfect day, feeding the dream I had of us all being together as a family. That was until we were outside the restaurant, packing Penelope back into the car.

It was as if the very atmosphere around us shifted and turned the air sour.

Securing Penelope into her booster seat, I closed the door and found Orla frozen to the spot. Her spine was straighter than an arrow as the color drained from her peachy cheeks. Her eyes, usually so bright, were wide with something else entirely.

Fear.

Panicked and raw fear.

It set off something primal in me, like an alarm blaring straight through to my bones.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, my deafening pulse pounding between my ears.

My body found hers, an arm reaching around her waist and tucking her tightly into my side. “ Ma chérie, tell me what’s wrong.”

She said nothing as her lips pressed into a tight thin line.

I followed her gaze, tracking it right to a man sitting outside a bar on the other side of the road. He was watching the pair of us, a lifeless smirk curling on his lips.

Forget the alarm bell, a full war siren erupted within me.

It didn’t take a genius to work out who the man was, not when he had the exact same pair of grey eyes and shaped nose as the woman I loved.

This was the man who had hurt her.

This was the man who had ripped her childhood from beneath her feet.

The man whose words packed the same punch as a fist.

I stepped in front of her, shielding her from the batard who no doubt was enjoying every moment of Orla’s anxiety ridden fear. “Get in the car, Orla,” I said firmly, leaving no room for argument. “Hey, look at me, only me. You need to get into the car.”

“I can’t,” she whispered. “I have to put an end to this.”

I frowned. “An end to what?”

“Him.” She refused meet my gaze, her bottom lip trembling. “He won’t stop calling me. He won’t leave me alone, not until he finds my sister. He got out of jail early and found me, and now he won’t stop. He never stops phoning me, Frederic.”

He fucking what?!

“Now…now I have to face him. I have to put an end to this, it’s the only way.”

“For how long?”

“What do you mean?”

I attempted to rein in my tone. “How long has he been harassing you?”

Her chin dipped. “The day after Wayline Beach.”

Deep red mist clouded my sight.

I was going to kill him so fucking slowly that he would be begging for the sweet release of death. I was going to relish the feel of his fucking blood on my hands, his throat in my grip as he took his final worthless breath.

“He won’t leave me alone, not until he gets what he wants. I can’t let him get to Niamh… I’m going to talk to him, make him understand that enough is enough.”

Like hell she is.

The only way she was getting within an inch of that man, that worthless piece of shit, was over my dead body.

“Please get in the car, Orla.” I tried again to make her look at me. “Let me take care of this for you.”

“It’s my mess to fix. I can’t let you…”

“Yes, you can. Let me do this for you.” I placed a whisper of a kiss on her brow. “Now get in the car and lock the doors. Please.”

Before I moved away, she grabbed my hand.

“Wait.” Her cold fingers squeezed mine tightly.

“Don’t hurt him. Don’t do anything that will take you away from that little girl in the back of the car.

She needs you too much to lose you, and…

I need you, okay? Don’t do something that could jeopardize everything you’ve fought for. ”

All I could do was nod, her words going in one ear and right out the other.

“Promise me, Frederic. Promise me you won’t do something stupid.”

“I promise.”

Waiting until she was safely in the car, I locked the doors and slowly walked across the road, eyes fixed on the man who filled me with such unrelenting rage it was a miracle I didn’t implode.

“Mr. Connell, I presume.” I didn’t hide an ounce of disgust from my tone.

“Not quite, lad.” He laughed coldly. “My little lady over there lied about her name. She’s Orla McShay, not Connell.”

Refusing to give him anything, I willed myself to stay silent. Detached. Unflinching. The Ice Man I no longer wanted to be.

“It’s no surprise she lied to you, she always was a lying wee whore.”

I attempted to count the wrinkles in his face to stop myself slamming my fist straight fucking through it.

One.

Two.

Three.

“Let me guess, she sent you over here to tell me to stay away?” he taunted. “She never could fight her own battles. Always running for someone to save her, always playing the victim. Good to see that hasn’t changed after all these years.”

Four.

Punch him.

Five.

Strangle him.

My teeth collided together. “How did you find her?”

“Funny thing is, you meet some very interesting people in prison. People who have certain skills, certain talents that can track down people if you’re willing to pay the right price.”

“I see, and of course, being the big man you are, you thought harassing your own daughter was the perfect thing to do with your undeserved freedom.”

“She has something I want. Something I am struggling to find by myself.”

The skin on my knuckles blanched white.

“You can tell Orla that until she gives me what I want, I won’t be going anywhere,” he said. “She spent years warping Niamh against me, making her believe I didn’t love her. That little bitch turned my daughter against me, convinced her to talk to the police and go along with her lies.”

Anger scorched through my veins, raging through my nervous system and tempting me to end his miserable existence right there on the spot.

“You see, Niamh was always my favorite. I actually wanted her, unlike Orla.”

“I strongly suggest you stop talking.”

“Only reason I kept Orla was because the bitch that gave birth to her threatened fucking sexual assault charges against me if I didn’t take the wee unwanted…”

“Stop. Fucking. Talking.”

Orla’s father’s lifeless grin grew. “Not until I get my daughter’s address and phone number. One way or another, I’ll get what I want.”

“This is my one and only warning, if you contact Orla again, I’ll take great pleasure in killing you slowly and trust me when I say slowly...”

The batard had the nerve to laugh. “You won’t kill me, not when you have things to live for.”

“Try me.”

“I saw your wee girl, and not to mention the way you looked at that cunt I’m forced to call a daughter…”

Crack!

Fresh blood spurted violently from his nose, covering his coat and the table in front of him.

Adrenaline and hot poker rage seared into my bones, numbing my knuckles to the blood seeping through the open cuts.

“Fucker! I’ll have you for this!” he seethed.

“Keep talking and it won’t be just your nose that is broken.”

“Say goodbye to your fucking precious wee daughter. Next time you’ll see her will be through metal bars.”

“Don’t mention my daughter to me again or I’ll break every single bone in your worthless body.

” Grabbing his collar, I pulled him in close, ignoring the crowd looking on in horror.

“You even look at Orla again, and I’ll remove your eyes with rusty nails.

You so much as speak a word in her direction, I’ll rip your vocal cords out with my bare hands.

Touch her and I’ll put both your hands into a fucking woodchipper and trust me I’ll enjoy every fucking second of your pain. ”

Blood coated his teeth, his hands pawing at mine. “You really think you can stop me? I won’t stop until I get what I want.”

“Good luck with that.” I let him go. “Enjoy your last taste of freedom, Mr. McShay, because no one, and I mean no one, threatens the people I love.”

“Stop moving.”

I hissed, resisting the instinct to draw my hand away as she dabbed the cotton swab over the open wounds.

The drive back to the hotel had been a blur, with Orla taking charge and driving us back to Enniskillen. My mind was racing, my heart trying to escape out of my own chest, as I spent the silent journey sending the necessary emails to Stefan that ensured both Orla’s and Penelope’s safety.

Killing Eamonn McShay was my ultimate goal, but as I hatched my plan with Stefan, I knew that death would be too much of a kindness for a monster like him.

He deserved to spend his life in pain, living in the same constant fear that he subjected his daughter to.

Orla took care of Penelope and ordered me to shower, to wash away the blood staining both my hands.

I wasn’t sure how long I stood beneath the boiling water, every drop a ton weight on my skin as I waited for Stefan’s call, but Orla got to me first.

She appeared at the glass shower door, towel in one hand, first aid kit in the other, and guided me to the bed.

“I told you not to hurt him.”

“Unfortunately, my fist didn’t listen.”

“This is bad, really bad,” Orla whispered, kneeling between my legs. “What is going to happen to you?”

“It’s being taken care of.” I inhaled sharply, the iodine seeping into my wounds. “You don’t have to worry, I am not going anywhere. Promise.”

“Like you promised not to hurt him?”

“Touché . ”

“The police… There were people watching, recording with their phones.” She wrapped the dressing tightly around my knuckles. “He’ll tell them what you did, he’ll press charges against you. He won’t let this go.”

Flexing my hand, I winced as the adrenaline started to wear off. “He won’t do anything.”

“Frederic…”

Cupping her face with my damaged hand, I pressed my forehead to hers. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you and Penelope safe. No matter what,” I said firmly. “And I’m going to make sure that you never have to think about him again.”

“You really mean that, don’t you?”

“I swear it on the very heart beating in my chest.” My thumb stroked along her cheekbone, while my other hand sought hers. Lifting it, I placed her palm firmly on my chest. “The same heart that belongs to you and only you.”

Two watery grey eyes dared to meet mine.

“I’ve spent a long time telling myself I didn’t need love in my life, that it was a weakness, a curse that only led to pain,” I exhaled slowly, “but the truth is, I was just scared. Scared to be hurt, scared to be made a fool of again, scared to make the same goddamn mistakes…and then you came into my life like a sunshine filled hurricane.”

“A sunshine hurricane?”

“You uprooted my very foundations and pulled me right into you.” My forehead found hers, the tip of her nose brushing against mine. “You’ve changed me for the better, and though I am still scared, I am no longer too scared to try.”

“We don’t have to rush…”

“Orla, I am in love with you,” I silenced her. “Deeply. Madly. Wholeheartedly in love with you.”

A tear slipped free, trailing down her cheek. “Does that mean I’m fired?”

I chuckled. “I’m pretty sure we’ve violated about every clause in your contract at this point.” The tip of my thumb caught her tear. “But I don’t want to lose you, and neither does Penelope. She loves you too. So, stay with us. You can take the apartment above the garage, make it into your home.”

“And if I don’t want that?”

“I’ll help you get your place back from the subletters.”

“I love my apartment, but it never felt like my home. Not like your house does. When I am with you and Penelope…I feel like I’ve come home,” Orla said quietly. “What if I want to move into the house with you and Pen?”

Her words were the final sticks of dynamite to the remaining slabs of concrete around my heart. “Then I only have one question.”

“What’s that?”

“Do you prefer to sleep on the left or right side of the bed?”