Page 76 of Irish Fury
Set the bomb.
Travel to Edinburgh.
Take every coin her mother had managed to hoard during her miserable life.
Find a beach for her little family.
Make the voices proud.
Live.
forty-two
JONATHAN
This had to be a joke.Rory Phipps was Mags’…no. “No fucking way.” Jonathan hadn’t realized he said that out loud until Daniel stood at his shoulder, giving him a “What the hell” look.
Blair and Daniel were the only two of their group close enough to witness the bullshit. Blair’s eyes were wide, and her lips were clearly mouthing “Shit” over and over again.
Jonathan’s mind was reeling. He’d met Rory Phipps, along with other Dublin architects, a handful of times over the last few years. He had drinks with the motherfucker who had taken Mags’ virginity—with the man who taught her all the things she now did for him.
No way was he going to let Rory Fucking Phipps touch his girlfriend another second. Clasping the top of Rory’s shoulder, he yanked him back and away from Mags.
Rory lost his balance and stumbled into Jonathan, who now stood at his back. He didn’t dare look at Mags, knowing she’d be pissed at the display.
Rory spun on his heel, eyes widening when he realized Jonathan was the perpetrator.
“What the hell, O’Faolain?” At the same time, he reached behind him and grasped Mags’ hands.
Over his shoulder, that piece of shit, Rory said, “Maggie, love, go get a drink with Blair. I’ll be right behind you once I figure out what the hell is going on.”
Maggie love.If Jonathan wasn’t seeing red already…
He did look at Mags then, and for her part, he was relieved to see that she was trying to shake off Rory’s hand.
“Rory, I should have told?—”
Like an ass, Jonathan interrupted her. “That she is mine and only mine. Touch her again, Phipps, and you’ll find out architecture isn’t the only thing I’m good at.”
“What the hell is your problem?” Rory demanded.
“Jon,” Mags said, frowning at him, probably hoping he wouldn’t escalate things further. Not likely.
Rory looked from Mags to him and back again. “Maggie?” Rory turned his back to Jonathan, but before he could drag the man away from Mags again, Daniel stepped between them and put a restraining hand on his chest.
“Don’t touch him again, Jon. Christ. People are starting to take notice. I doubt you want to impress our fathers with your mugshot in the Daily.”
Jonathan forced himself to breathe deeply, allowing the ringing in his ears to fade. Mags was in the middle of explaining their relationship, which the prick didn’t deserve. They were over. That’s all he needed to know.
“I’m sorry, Rory, I should have reached out. Jon and I are dating. It’s serious.”
Mags sounded calm, but her fiery, red cheeks spoke of her internal chaos.
“But Maggie, I don’t understand. I’ve wanted us to be serious from the beginning. You have to know that I lo?—”
Mags threw up a hand between her and Rory. “Don’t say it.”
“Why not? You know it’s true,” he pleaded.
