Claddagh: Emerald Isle MC, #4

By Courtney Lynn Rose

She was everything I needed and more than I'd ever deserved.

 

Bradan "Claddagh" Adair

Six years ago, I claimed an ol' lady, and a year later, she gave me the greatest gift any man could ask for - a son.

 

But bringing our son into the world came at the price of her life, and my heart never recovered. Through the years, I've celebrated my brothers finding their women and starting families, but for me, it's just my son and I. I don't ever want to risk him and I loving someone who might leave us again.

 

But the most important woman in my son's life is his school counselor. An intelligent, shy beauty named Clara Rogers, who has my son's heart . . . and my attention more than I want to admit.

 

With my President missing and his ol' lady needing the club more than ever, the last thing I need is extra drama on my plate. Too bad I don't have a choice when I drive past Clara's one night to find her in the dirt, in tears, her face bloody and bruised.

 

Bringing her under my protection is without question, but getting her to open up about who hurt her is like pulling teeth with rubber pliers— it's damn near impossible. Until the very man shows up looking for her, and he's a damn cop to boot.

 

Now, he wants Clara back, but there's no way I'm giving her up, and I don't care what force we have to go up against. No one is gonna hurt this woman again, not now that she's mine, and her ex-husband better realize— Irishmen aren't scared of the cops, no matter how crooked they are.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Croí na Tine Publishing
• Release date: May 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223226826

Book preview

Content Warning

This book contains content, situations, and themes that may be sensitive for some readers. This may include but is not limited to sexual abuse/harassment/rape, graphic violence/gun violence/weapon violence, criminal activity/organized crime, strong/vulgar language, discrimination/racism/sexism/classism/homophobia, mental health disorders/side effects/therapies/recovery/treatment, sexual acts/encounters, & mental/emotional/physical abuse/torture. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

Chapter 1

Claddagh

Seven months ago, Shamrock—our president and my biological twin brother—went missing. Now, I'm standing beside his woman, holding her hand as she brings his three babies into the world. He should be here, and I should be out in the waiting room, making jokes about how they better name one of these babies after me.

My sister-in-law Faylinn is, without a doubt, the strongest woman I've ever met. For the last seven months, she’s gone through this pregnancy, kept their house and bills up, worked a full-time job at the club's MMA studio, and gone out every night to drive around and look for my brother. I tried to talk her out of the last one, and she pretty much ripped my head off and shit down my neck. Said that Shamrock looked for her for fifteen years, and what kind of wife would she be if she gave up after only a few months.

After that, the guys and I started taking turns going with her so she wasn't alone in the middle of the night. Whoever took Shamrock could easily come back and try to take Faylinn or one of these kids, and we aren't about to let that happen.

Alright, Fay, Medic says as he glances up at her from his seat at the bottom of her bed, one more big push, and we’ll have this last baby.

Faylinn takes a deep breath and squeezes my hand. Her brother Dire, the club's VP, is on her other side, holding her other hand. Biting her bottom lip, Faylinn bears down to the point her face is red, but she doesn't make a sound. This woman has given natural birth to three babies, and the most noise she's made is the breath she takes after each push.

A little harder, Faylinn, come on, Medic coaches.

The moment Faylinn falls back onto the bed and sucks in a deep breath of air, a smile breaks out on my face, followed by the shrill cry of a baby. Leaning forward, I kiss her forehead and lean mine against hers.

Nice job, Fay, I say as she reaches up and pats my cheek. Finn would be in awe of you.

Anything new on him from Voltz? she asks, keeping her eyes closed for a moment. When she opens them, she pierces me with the most severe stare, making my heart drop. Well?

I shake my head. Nothing yet, Fay. We aren't giving up, though. We’ll find him.

Kicker comes over, holding a little bundled pink blanket. Time to feed baby number one.

Faylinn takes her first daughter and immediately gets the baby situated on her breast to feed. I swear, it's like she's a natural. Watching Fay, you'd never know that she hasn't had kids before.

I pull up a chair and sit with her while she feeds each of them. Our club has always been supportive when members like myself bring the next generation into the fold.

It's going to be fun to watch them with my new nieces and nephew— Saoirse, Maeve, and Padraic Adair.

Fuck, I wish my brother was here to see them. He'd be over the fucking moon for his kids.

After all three are fed and sleeping, I pull out my phone and take pictures of each baby, texting them to Voltz with the names Faylinn chose. He'll do the easy thing and mass text everyone in the club, including the Nomads. They've been scattered across the States for us the last seven months looking for Shamrock.

We follow every single lead we get, no matter how stupid or improbable it seems. Dire and I refuse to leave any stone unturned when it comes to finding Shamrock. It's not that Dire hasn't stepped up and run this club just as well as my brother does. He has made us all proud of him. But we were born for our positions, in a way, and things just don't feel right without Shamrock here.

Leaning over Faylinn, I touch her cheek, and her eyes fly open and meet mine. Can I hold one?

She glances down at the two girls in her arms and chuckles. Can you put the other in her bassinet? I need to get rest while I can.

Nodding, I take Maeve and put her in the bassinet before getting Saoirse and sitting in the rocking chair across from Faylinn's bed. Rocking gently, I stare down at the little bundle of too much cuteness and lightly run my finger back and forth across her cheek.

Hey, Saoirse, I say softly, keeping my eyes on the baby. I'm your Uncle Bradan. I'm the one that's going to teach you how to shoot lots of guns and kick lots of ass.

How about we wait until she's more than a few hours old, huh, Bradan?

My eyes come up to meet Faylinn's, and I shrug. Don't pay attention to your momma. She's just mad that she isn't as cool as me.

Fuck you, Faylinn says with a chuckle. I’m way cooler than you.

Rolling my eyes, I playfully huff. Well, wait until Motormouth gets a hold of these kids. We’ll all be fucking lame by comparison.

Everyone laughs at that, but Faylinn also shrugs. Yeah, well, at least I won’t ever worry about my girls if that woman teaches them to kick ass. Plus, her daughter turned out pretty damn awesome.

I can’t argue that, and neither can anyone else. Truth is truth, and Ari, Motormouth’s daughter, is probably the most well-balanced, compassionate, strong-willed young woman we have ever met.

The room erupts in soft laughter, and I join in with a few chuckles. We all know Faylinn really is cooler than most of us, and these babies are gonna have some awesome moments, just like my son has.

My son . . . ah, fuck.

What time is it? I say, a little panicked as I hold Saoirse and try to get my phone out of my pocket.

Four fifteen, wh—oh, god, you're late getting Tasmin, Faylinn says with wide eyes. Give me my child, and go get your child. Jesus, man.

Getting up from the rocker, I put a sleeping Saoirse in her bassinet as well and go over to kiss Faylinn's cheek. Heading out of her hospital room, my cell vibrates. It's an unknown number, but I pick it up anyway.

Claddagh.

Hey, Bradan, a smooth and sweet voice says through the receiver. This is Clara Rogers.

Hey, Clara, I say quickly as I walk across the parking lot toward my truck. I'm sorry I'm late. Tasmin's aunt went into labor this morning, and we've been at the hospital.

Oh, my, that's wonderful, she says, and her voice muffles a bit as she tells my son why I'm late. His scream of excitement can't be missed, and it makes me laugh. I think he's happy. She laughs into the phone, and it makes my body shiver. Clara has a sweet laugh and an even sweeter face. She's beautiful— almost too beautiful to be my son's school counselor.

I'm on my way, though. Should be like ten minutes.

No problem, she says with another chuckle. We're going to just hang out and wait for you.

Ending the call, I toss it on the passenger's seat as I start my truck and get on the road. Ten points for being a great uncle and being there for the births. Minus eight points for the shitty dad moment of forgetting to get my son from school.

Chapter 2

Clara

Daddy says I can help with the babies, Tasmin says as we sit on the bench out front of the school, and he swings his feet back and forth happily.

Out of all my students, he is probably my favorite. I wasn't sure what to think when I first took this job two years ago and was informed by a fellow staff member that Tasmin's father was part of a local motorcycle gang. At least, that's how they were referred to. Since meeting Bradan, I don't think gang is the proper term. I know they aren't squeaky clean men, but Tasmin's father is one of the most involved here at the school, and it's clear as day that he loves his son more than anything.

Tasmin tells me about his family a lot when we chat, even though I doubt he's supposed to. It's been harder for them this year, more than usual, with his uncle going missing. The kiddo has had some bad days missing his uncle, and it's clear when Bradan picks him up that his brother's absence is felt by him, too. I wish I could help them both, but getting into other people’s dirty laundry isn't something I can risk, given my current situation.

When I agreed to Witness Protection, it was made clear I needed to be careful with what I did and who I spent time with. The last thing I need is someone digging through things and realizing that Clara Rogers didn't exist two years ago. Yes, I have an actual degree in school-age psychology and social work, but that was under my real name— Clara Espinoza.

That last name, the man attached to it, is precisely why I'm in WitSec. My handler, U.S. Marshall Rebecca Saunders, would lose her shit if I got involved with bikers and risked my cover. Most people think WitSec does everything for you. They don't. Yes, they set me up with this identity, handled any paperwork I might ever need, and got me this job. But after that, I'm on my own.

Regardless of my position in the program, I have to pay my own bills, I'm responsible for my own finances, and they don't have any say in most of my day-to-day life. Unless I try to travel. Thanks to my ex-husband, a crooked cop from Atlanta, there's places I'm forbidden to travel— like going back to Georgia, for instance. I'm also not allowed in South Carolina or Florida because he has a lot of family in both states, and the risk of being made is too high.

Two years of this, and I can't help but wish I could just go back to my maiden name, get out of hiding, and just live a normal life. Sadly, the outcome of leaving the program will probably end with my head being severed from my body, and I like it attached.

You're gonna be an awesome big cousin, Tas, I say as I put my arm around the little boy's shoulders and hug him.

The distinct roar of his father's truck engine hits our ears before it's visible, and Tasmin starts bouncing in his seat. He's done nothing but talk about his new cousins coming for months. At one point, he was even mad because he said it was taking too long. I laughed at that one. The minds of six-year-olds when it comes to babies are hilarious at times.

Tasmin jumps off the bench the moment his dad turns into the school parking lot and pretty much does what I call a victory dance. Bradan pulls up, leaving a good two feet between the sidewalk and his truck, laughing loudly as he cuts the engine and gets out.

You excited, little man? he says as he comes around the bed of the truck, and Tasmin takes off, launching himself at his dad.

Yeah. Ms. Clara says I'm gonna be the best cousin ever!

Bradan laughs again and chats with the kid about the babies for a moment before giving me a smile and setting him back down. I'm fully aware that Bradan is better known to his family and around Cascade Falls as Claddagh. Sometimes, in general conversations, I slip and call him that, but given that I work with his kid, I try to keep it as professional as possible.

Okay, Tas, he says with another chuckle as the boy speeds circles around his legs, in the truck if you want to go see Aunt Fay.

You got it, Pops, Tasmin says as he looks up and shoves a thumbs up in his dad's face.

Tasmin runs over to the truck door and flings it open as his father comes to stand in front of me. Thank you for sitting with him, and again, I'm sorry for being late today.

Waving him off, I smile. None of that. I'd be happy to sit and hang with that kid any time.

Bradan chuckles and then catches my eyes. The first time I met him, I learned that eye contact isn't a good idea unless you want to feel like a deer in headlights with soaked panties. Well, maybe I will have to be late more often.

The heat that floods my cheeks makes me divert my eyes and bite my lip. I'll see you guys tomorrow. Bye, Tas!

The truck window rolls down. Bye, Ms. Clara. See you later!

I give them both a wave as I fish my keys out of my purse and head to my car. It's parked right out front of the school, so I only have like ten feet to walk. That's one of the benefits of being a school counselor— assigned parking right in front of the building.

Unlocking the door, I slide in, close the door and lock them again. After being in WitSec for two years, going overboard with caution is second nature. Putting my keys in, I turn them and— nothing. There's a second of a crank and then silence. I try again— same thing.

Oh, you have to be kidding me, I grumble as