“What’s the matter, you look like you’ve seen the devil?”Dutch said, striding to him, Declan behind him.
He released the breath he didn’t know he was holding.“The Butcher took Florentia and her friend.We need to go now!”he shouted, worry, thick and foreboding, surrounded him.
“Let’s go,” Declan said, taking Tavish by the arm.
His brother was a lot of things, but he was always reliable.If Tavish needed him, his little brother was always there.
“I’m coming, too!”Fionn said, running behind the three of them.
Tavish ignored the gentlemen who were entering the club all gawking at the three O’Brien’s and the large older Black man with them.
“To the O’Brien’s warehouse at the docks,” he shouted up to the carriage driver, before he leapt into the carriage.
The others piled in behind him, Declan next to him, Dutch and Fionn across from them.
“What did The Butcher say?”Delan asked, as the carriage took off at deadly speed.
Calm overtook him at knowing he wasn’t going to face The Butcher alone.That was the one thing he’d missed being away from his family, knowing that no matter what he’d always have support.
Taking out the crumbled parchment, he passed it to Declan.“I’m going to kill that fecking bastard for even touching her,” he gritted out punching his fist into his palm.
“Dec, here said you fecked the duchess.But the way you’re looking, I wager it’s more than that,” Fionn said, knowingly.
Out of all his brothers, Fionn was the one who knew him better than he knew himself.He’d traveled with Tavish for a year, even taking on some smaller matches.He was good, he just didn’t possess the stomach it took to beat a man for sport.
“Aye,” he confirmed, the feeling of his heart being ripped out of his chest shot through him.
How could a woman get under his skin in such a short amount of time?It didn’t make any logical sense to him, but dear God had she.
“Then we better hurry up and save my fecking sister.”Fionn, punched the ceiling of the carriage, urging the coachman to push faster.
“Aye,” Declan agreed, before shaking his head.“I still can’t believe you fecked old Summerset’s widow in one fecking day.”His brother laughed, finally dropping the mask that Tavish suspected he’d been wearing since their da died.
“A day?”Fionn mocked him.“What took you so long?”
They all laughed again.
Dutch shook his head at the three brothers.“The lot of you O’Brien’s are fucking mad.”
They laughed, Tavish patting the old man on his knee.“Indeed, we fecking are.”
The carriage stopped and he was out of the door, rushing to the warehouse, his brothers and Dutch behind him.
There was a row of carriages, and more arriving as Tavish pushed through the small crowd walking into the warehouse.
The large bare space was filled with spectators, rich and poor, bets were being shouted out, only increasing when Tavish entered.
He was only wearing his shirt and waistcoat, clearly not ready to fight, but he didn’t give a damn.
His eyes roamed the warehouse until he found her sitting in the middle of the ring.Florentia and a beautiful Black woman sat side by side holding hands, heads held high, as they spoke to each other like they were having tea and not in the middle of a boxing ring with men standing guard so they couldn’t escape.They looked more like defiant warriors than hostages.
Thomas, the footman stood outside the ring, one of the men preventing Florentia from leaving.Red clouded his vision at the thought of the bastard betraying her and handing her over to The Butcher.
He marched toward the shorter man, and grabbed him by his shirtsleeve.“You fecking bastard.I’ll kill you for betraying her.”He threw the footman to the ground standing over him.
“It’s what she deserves for tossing me to the side as soon as you came around,” he spat out at Tavish.
“That is not true!”Florentia shouted from the ring.“I tossed you to the side at least an hour before I met him.”
