My Pulse

Chapter 7: Cian O'Shea

One Day Earlier

I curl my hand around the beer bottle, almost breaking the glass with my bare grip. There are three men in my Mo Cuishle's apartment. I wonder how she'll react to finding them there when she arrives. Will she be happy or annoyed to see Rory abusing his house privileges? I anxiously watch as she twists the doorknob and heads inside. To my annoyance, the presence of the men on her couch doesn't bother her one bit.

I, on the other hand, am about to throw my beer across the room. I can't let her see this side of me—the side consumed by rage until I see nothing but black. As black and dark as the day I died. The bomb that killed my mother killed me right along with her. I've been empty ever since, and deep down, I know I can't be saved. The hole of darkness ruthlessly carved into me without my consent can never truly be filled.

My attention snaps back to the monitor when I hear Quinn laugh, and a small weight lifts off my chest. She's beautiful, and all my thoughts quickly shift to her.

The way she tilts her head back to laugh, how she playfully fits in with the guys in her own way—she's magnetic. Quinn is most definitely a tomboy, but she's also incredibly feminine. Her athletic body is impossible not to notice. It's lean, like a gymnast's, with a long neck that showcases her delicate collarbone. My pants grow uncomfortably tight as I imagine kissing that neck, licking every inch of her skin. I pull out my cock, desperate to relieve the pressure building in me, when I hear a crash.

I jump out of my chair and tuck myself back into my pants. What the hell is going on? Oh, it's just Aiden and James fighting. Fuck. They could hurt Quinn if they run into her, I think worriedly. Should I go there? No, obviously not. It would freak them all out and, of course, ruin my master plan. Calm down, I tell myself, forcing myself to sit back on the couch.

Then I notice something on the monitor. Is she going out? I smile. I know exactly where Murphy's is; everyone does. My heart leaps in my chest, knowing I'll see her again sooner than planned. With a dirty gleam in my eye, I rush to clean up and watch as Quinn walks into her bedroom to do the same.

My heart stops as I take in the vision on my screen. Quinn walks out of her room in a sleek black dress. I remember watching her buy this particular dress at H&M after that night out with Jillian. She's mouthwatering. I'm at a loss for words, something that rarely happens to me. I'm not the only one affected either—I see all three of her supposed friends gawking at her.

I slam my fist on the coffee table so hard that my water cup crashes onto the rug. Motherfucker. I can't wait a minute longer to see her.

Why is she wearing that dress? I've never seen her in one, except that one time at the club. Then I pause, and a dark smile spreads across my face. Could it be... for me? You bet your ass it's for me because I'll kill anyone who touches her—or even looks at her too long tonight.

Rory hands Quinn his jacket on the way out, and I grit my teeth. My life would look a lot brighter without Rory in it. I don't want her wearing another man's clothing. It's unacceptable.

I discreetly follow them to Murphy's and slip in the door before they arrive, finding a quiet corner to perch in. I wait patiently for my prize as she walks through the door, scanning the crowd. A warmth rises in my chest when her face falls like she's disappointed not to see whoever she's looking for. Rory ushers Quinn toward the bar, greeting a few people along the way.

Many men greet Quinn too, but I don't give a fuck about anyone else. My attention is solely on her.

Rory is noticeably irritating tonight, hovering over Quinn like she's in mortal danger. It's like he senses there's a lion in the room—which there is. I'm mildly amused by his intuition. Motherfucker, I think as Rory sticks close to her. He's not going to let her out of his sight tonight, and I run my hand through my hair in exasperation.