Corrupted Union: A Forced Marriage Mafia Romance (The Byrne Brothers Book 2)
Corrupted Union: Chapter 26

Walking away from Rowan didn’t help the situation, but I’d needed to cool down. The unfortunate part was that she wasn’t the true source of my anger. I was upset with my cousin for getting involved in shit he shouldn’t have. I was annoyed at my dad for thinking my actions revolved around the damn governor. I was furious that Rowan was in danger. And maybe worst of all, I was pissed at myself for lashing out when she’d already been through so much. I should have just been glad she was speaking to me at all, but her insinuation that I only wanted her for access to her father had struck a nerve. It made me wonder if she saw me at all.

I paced in the bedroom for a half hour before I worked through the emotions enough that I was ready to talk to her again and smooth things over. Only, when I went back to the living room, Rowan wasn’t there.

I called her name with no answer.

Unease raised the hairs on the back of my neck just as I spotted her on the back deck.

Fucking hell.

The drizzle out had soaked her to the bone. I rushed outside to where she sat on her shins, eyes cast unseeing toward the ocean. Her entire body shook with cold.

“Rowan, baby. Shit, come here.” I started to lift her, but she clasped my arms to stop me.

“N-n-n-no, you n-n-need to know …” Her teeth chattered so badly she could hardly speak.

“You can tell me inside. I need to get you warm.”

She shook her head insistently, but I ignored her, lifting her into my arms. The touch of her frigid skin against mine had my stomach plunging to my feet.

I ran a warm bath, making sure not to get it too hot. She was so cold, anything above lukewarm would feel like fire. While the tub filled, I stripped the soaked T-shirt and panties from her body. I left her bandaged hand. The bath wasn’t going to get it any more wet than it already was.

Rowan stood shivering without protest throughout. She seemed to be in a trance, and it was freaking me the fuck out.

I never panicked about anything. Even when I was young, I had frustrated, angry outbursts, but fear and panic were never problems. That wasn’t me. Yet this slip of a woman seemed to be rewriting my DNA—making me think and feel things I didn’t know were possible.

My thoughts swarmed furiously, making it impossible to focus.

Why would she do this to herself? Would the bath raise her temperature fast enough? How the fuck did I know if hypothermia had already set in?

Urgency scraped beneath my skin, demanding I move faster.

I undressed, then situated us in the tub with her sitting in front of me, my body cocooning hers. I let the water fill to the brim to cover every possible inch of her. Then I held her. I absorbed her quivering shudders, wishing I could do the same with all the pain she carried with her.

Slowly, her body calmed and relaxed into mine.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered into the silence. “I didn’t mean to scare you or be dramatic. Everything I thought I’d dealt with and packed away feels like it’s resurfaced as fresh as the day it happened, making it hard to process everything.”

“No need to apologize,” I urged, my lips close to her ear.

“Yes, there is. I didn’t mean what I said. I was angry and hurt.”

I leaned back against the basin, bringing her with me and gently scooping water over her shoulders and chest. “Did you ever see a counselor or talk to anyone about her death?” I wanted to ask more detailed questions about what had happened, but that felt like too much too soon.

“No. I think my parents were so lost in their own grief that they weren’t capable of addressing mine. They could hardly look at me without cringing or tearing up.”

Jesus, that would fuck up a kid. I listened raptly as she continued.

“Mom sort of disappeared for a while. Self-medicated. She slept a lot. Dad threw himself into work. Sometimes I didn’t mind, though, because when I was alone, I could hear her. Talk to her. I suppose that’s why I’ve never had any close friends. I only ever wanted Ivy.”

“That makes sense.”

“Maybe, but it also sounds messed up.” Despite their meaning, her words were spoken without judgment.

“Everyone has a touch of crazy in them.”

“Right,” she said defeatedly. “I’m supposed to believe that from Mr. Cool, Calm, and Collected.”

“Believe it or not, I was expelled from three different elementary schools.”

She twisted enough to look back at me. “Are you serious?”

“God’s truth.” I held up my right hand.

“Why?” she breathed, wide-eyed.

I coaxed her back against me before continuing. “I told you that getting upset made me tongue-tied. It used to be bad. I would get so frustrated that I’d throw chairs or hit other kids. The tantrums I threw didn’t help my situation. I started to get bullied. Kids called me a freak and other delightful names. That’s when the fights started. By fifth grade, I’d developed quite a reputation for myself. Enough that kids finally left me alone, and I had fewer outbursts. I figured out that the less I said, the better, and that when I did speak, I absolutely had to remain calm, no matter what, so I didn’t lose my words.”

“What about your siblings and cousins? They didn’t give you a hard time, did they?”

“Nah.” A smile teased my lips. “If anything, I was sort of a legend to them.” I opened the drain to let some water out, then started the tap with warmer water to raise the temperature.

“Yeah?” she asked with a touch of amusement that did more to warm me than the water ever could.

“Yeah. My cousin Oran and I were closer back then. That’s what makes this Wellington business so damn hard. Oran was responsible for those guns, and now I’m left wondering if they were really stolen, or if he made a deal behind our backs.”

“Do you genuinely believe he could do something like that?”

I sighed deeply. “I’d already been struggling with suspicions that he’d played a role in his father’s death.”

“Oh, Keir. That’s awful.”

“Yeah.” The single syllable was saturated with the weight of my worries.

“What are you gonna do?”

“When we get back, I’m going to talk to my pops. It’s more his place than anyone’s to decide how to proceed. I just didn’t want to say anything unless I was sure, but now that the guns have resurfaced, I know in my gut that something’s not right.”

Quiet filtered in around us until she spoke again.

“What are we going to do about the girl?”

I took Rowan’s hand and wove my fingers with hers. “We’re going to get her out of there,” I assured her softly.

“When I see her, I see my sister. I know they aren’t the same, but it feels like it. Like this is my chance to do it right. To save her.”

Fuck, how had I not made that connection?

I was learning how her sister’s death had affected her, but I hadn’t thought about how she might associate the two. That was why she’d been so hell-bent on helping the woman, even at the risk of endangering herself.

“We’ll get her out of there, I promise.” I had no business making such an assurance when the girl might not even be alive at this point, yet I couldn’t stop myself. The deep-seated need to give Rowan the world was a compulsion I couldn’t contain.

She lifted our hands, untangling our fingers to get a closer look at my hand. At the matching tattoo on my ring finger. She gently touched the marking. “Why did you do this? Is it some kind of family tradition?”

“Not that I know of.”

“It’s going to make divorce awfully complicated.”

“Good thing I have no plans of ever divorcing.” My words hung like steam in the air.

She wiggled around to look back at me. “You didn’t just do this for the short term?”

I held up my hand. “Does this look short term to you?”

“But you hardly know me.”

“I know enough.”

Electricity heated the air around us as Rowan’s eyes dropped to my lips. Slowly, she turned her body all the way around until her front was pressed against mine. My cock was instantly rock hard.

I cupped her waist, my hips arching to press my dick against her belly, a voracious hunger demanding more of her. When her lips met mine, my head spun with relief. I devoured her kiss like a man surfacing for air after being rolled by the tide.

I’d tried to be patient. I’d given her time to process and kept my hands to myself—in the shower and when her body lay next to mine in our bed. I’d done everything I could to be honorable, but that well had run dry. Her small offering was all the assurance I’d needed to claim what was mine.

Water was terrible lube, however, and my friend would be pissed if I flooded his house, so I forced myself to sever our connection and guided us to our feet. I was too drunk on her for towels, though. My lips were instantly drawn back to hers, my feet walking us blindly to the bed.

Rowan smiled through our kiss. “We’re soaked, Keir. We’ll get the bed all wet.”

“It’ll dry,” I grumbled as I lay her back and spread her legs wide. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”