Firefly

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Firefly Page 10

by Molly McAdams


  “Dare,” she whispered when her back settled, my name sounding like a hesitant invitation.

  I forced myself to remember where we were—to remember she’d had me chasing her in the short time I’d let myself be around her—when all I wanted was to hear her say it again.

  Hear her scream it.

  One of her hands moved down to grip at my shirt, pulling me closer, but the hand clinging to my arm was straining, as if she was trying to force herself to push me away.

  “Truth or dare,” I murmured against her lips, then kissed her again.

  Her breaths were heavy when I pulled away so she could answer, indecision playing in her eyes. “Why . . . why do you keep asking me that?”

  “Because people who are scared always pick truth, and I need to know if you’re lying to me.”

  “If you know what I’m going to choose, why give me an option?”

  My mouth lifted in a smirk. “It’s what I do. Truth or dare.”

  Her head dropped and voice lowered, but not enough that I didn’t hear her when she said, “If you already have me so figured out, then ask your question.”

  I leaned back and pressed my knuckles under her chin so I could search her eyes. “Are you in danger?”

  Instead of the immediate response I expected, she studied me for a few moments. “What do you think?”

  “Yes.”

  A shudder ran through her body as she nodded absentmindedly, her breaths slowly growing more exaggerated as my answer hovered between us. “Then you should probably let me go.”

  She was skipping around every answer, but it didn’t matter. I’d spent the last two years trying to understand her expressions. I’d seen her fear earlier, and I’d seen it again when I’d caught up to her.

  I tried, but couldn’t contain the smile that stretched across my face. She didn’t know me—didn’t know anything about my life. But the thought that I’d let her go because she was in danger was ridiculous. One of the most dangerous men in the state, and probably the most dangerous man she would ever meet, currently held her. Nothing would happen to her as long as I continued to.

  “Nothing’s getting past me,” I assured her.

  Her breath washed over my lips as I leaned in to kiss her again when she whispered, “I thought we were talking about you.”

  I paused for a few seconds, then looked up into her hazel eyes. “What?”

  “I think I’m in danger from you.”

  My brow pulled tight, and I forced out a low, frustrated laugh. “Me.”

  She nodded again, the movement of her head so slow as her eyes explored mine. “I need you to let me go for so many reasons, but I easily forget why when you don’t. I think there was a reason neither of us crossed that invisible barrier before today. Because being in your arms?” She hesitated, her tongue quickly darting out to wet her lips. “Trust me, it’s dangerous.”

  A weight pressed down on my chest, making it hard to breathe. Because damn it if she wasn’t right.

  There were dozens of girls over the years who’d meant nothing more than a night. Maybe two. Not one could I remember the name of, most I couldn’t remember their face.

  Then there’d been one who I would’ve sold my soul for if I could’ve had one more night with her.

  My days with her had been everything. A slow burn that had built over time until I hadn’t been able to get enough of her. Until she’d meant too much.

  And there hadn’t been a girl since.

  Not a second glance. Not a thought. Nothing.

  Until one morning at Brooks a few years ago.

  But there was nothing slow about the thoughts and needs for the girl pressed against me. There hadn’t been since the very first morning I’d found her staring at a mirror like it had the power to destroy her world. Like that possibility fascinated her.

  Fuck, if I didn’t need to find out why.

  Dangerous was exactly what we were. Only she had no idea just how much.

  My gut twisted as unwanted thoughts entered my mind, but I pushed them away. Because I knew what I needed to do. I needed to let her go and force myself not to follow.

  But when there’s a flicker of light in your life after so much darkness, it’s impossible to stay away.

  And this girl burned so damn bright.

  Calling to me and beckoning me toward her, and I knew no matter how many times I let her slip away, I would follow her just to catch her again.

  I brushed my thumb across her full lips. “Goddamn firefly.”

  She’d started leaning into my touch, but stilled when I spoke, her eyebrows pulling together in confusion. “What?”

  “Tell me why you left.”

  “What?” she repeated, then blinked quickly as she pulled away from my hand, as if she’d just remembered she didn’t want me touching her. “If you’ve forgotten, you told me to leave.”

  “You wanted to go, I wasn’t going to force you to stay. But I thought you would’ve because you and I both know you didn’t want me to let you go.”

  She sucked in a quick breath at the reminder, her mouth stayed slightly parted like she wanted to deny it. But when no denial came, her eyes pleaded with me to understand. “I needed you to.”

  “Why?” I begged. “What did you keep looking for tonight?”

  Her head was already shaking, an excuse or evasion on her lips.

  “Who did you think I was when I came after you just now? You were apologizing before you even turned around and looked fucking terrified. Most girls would scream if they were grabbed—not do what you did.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Boyfriend?” I asked, my tone harder than I meant for it to be.

  Ethan also told everyone that this girl had claimed to have a boyfriend. Something no one had believed since we’d all witnessed his pathetic attempts to get her attention over the years. Something I hadn’t believed until just before she’d left the table.

  “It’s complicated,” she began again.

  “It doesn’t have to be,” I argued. “But I’d like to know what I’m up against, and I’d like to know if you’re in danger from someone other than me.”

  A sad laugh tumbled from those lips and her eyes met mine. “Of course not.”

  True.

  She let loose a slow breath. “You know, most girls would probably scream when some stranger grabs them and kisses them too. If not the first time, then the second. Or third.”

  She was trying to change the conversation again, but I had a feeling she would continue to no matter how many times I pushed to understand what had happened with her tonight.

  So instead of trying to get inside her mind one last time, I let my mouth pull into a smirk. “I’d hardly say we’re strangers, Firefly.”

  That same confusion from before settled over her face. “Are you calling me—why are you calling me that?”

  Because it’s exactly what she was.

  I dipped my head closer to hers and asked, “Have you ever tried to catch a firefly?”

  “What? No.”

  I lifted a hand to cradle her face, and tried to contain the urge to pull her closer when she relaxed into my touch. It’d been so long since I’d had this, and the sickening sense of fear that crawled through my veins almost made me wish I’d never found it again.

  I was afraid of losing the electric hum I felt everywhere I touched her. I was terrified of losing the only person who had made me feel in so long. But I didn’t know how to keep it. How to contain it.

  Goddamn firefly.

  I swallowed roughly as I forced that unwanted fear back. “You wait for them to light up in the dark, then try to catch them before they stop glowing,” I explained. “You’re the first light that has appeared after many very dark years. After tonight, I know I would chase you, just for you to keep slipping away week after week. But I also know I would willingly do it just to keep seeing you light up the dark.”

  She stared at me in awe for a few moments before realizat
ion settled over her, and she tried to pull away from my hold. “I have to go.”

  “My point exactly.”

  “Right,” she huffed, her hazel eyes narrowing on me. “And how many girls have you used that ‘firefly’ thing on before?”

  Her question stunned me for a second, but before I could give her a response, Johnny was suddenly there.

  “Dare.”

  I whipped my head toward him, ready to make him leave, but my demand died on my tongue when he said, “Time to go.”

  There was nothing special about his words, but it was the tick of his eyebrow that meant everything, and a sudden surge of adrenaline and hatred pounded through my veins at the possibility of what was waiting for us.

  I dipped my head in a nod. “Coming.”

  Looking back at the girl in front of me, my sudden aggravation poured through my tone. “Before tonight? I’d never said those words to anyone. Before tonight? I hadn’t kissed anyone in years. I told you, my life has been dar—”

  Her head was shaking and she hurried to speak over me. “You’re someone who kissed a stranger for all the wrong reasons. You can’t tell me it isn’t something you do.”

  I met and held her stare, noting the hurt she was trying to cover with pride.

  I saw it, and it was adding to the frustration that Johnny’s arrival meant for us all.

  “Think what you want,” I said on a low growl. “Tell yourself all of it was just a way to get you into my bed. Try to forget what this felt like.” I pressed her body closer to mine for emphasis. “Try to make yourself believe you wanted me to let you go. Tell yourself you didn’t lean into me when I kissed you.”

  “Those kisses meant nothing.” Her voice was a whisper, but she wasn’t able to cover the tremble in her voice. “We’ll forget about them by morning and go back to not speaking next week . . . and you know it.”

  Lie.

  “Got it.” I released her and took a couple steps away, then stopped and looked back at her. “Truth or dare.”

  She clenched her jaw and didn’t say a word.

  “Truth then,” I murmured, choosing for her, and closed the distance between us again. “You want me to kiss you again.”

  She didn’t answer, and she didn’t need to. The longing that flashed through her eyes was the only answer I needed.

  I couldn’t have fought the smile that spread across my face if I’d tried.

  I leaned close to brush my lips against her jaw. “Looking forward to chasing you, Firefly.”

  I turned and followed Johnny out of the alleyway, ignoring his hardened stare.

  “Libby told me about her. When were you gonna tell me you’ve been watching this girl at Brooks, and why didn’t you point her out before?” When I didn’t respond, he said, “I don’t like that she’s always there on Mondays. There’s something about her, Dare. I don’t trust he—”

  “I don’t care,” I said firmly. “What’s going on?”

  He blew out a harsh breath and ran a hand through his hair as he spoke, his words nearly lost in the noises from the street fair. “Lily O’Sullivan.”

  Just hearing her name made me see red. Made my entire world go dark again. Nothing but ice-cold rage roared through my veins, so different from the heated moments before.

  But I’d already known that was why Johnny pulled me away. What I needed to know was what new leads we had in regards to this supposedly dead princess. “Right, what do we have?”

  “Got someone waiting for you who has information—says he has a recent picture.”

  I stopped dead in my tracks for all of two seconds before I began walking toward where we’d left the cars, this time faster than before. “Libby stays with the twins . . . Einstein comes with us. If there is a picture, it goes to her so she can make sure it’s legit and test it against other pictures of Lily. If this bitch is still alive, her breaths are numbered.”

  Once I’d gotten away from the busy streets of town, the weight on my chest began easing. My feet started slowing until I was walking at a normal pace, and then strolling.

  I’d been in a rush to get home so I’d taken shortcuts to make sure I got back before Conor. But with Holloway now just minutes away, I would’ve given anything to stop time and live in that moment.

  Some part of me knew once I returned to Holloway, what happened between Dare and me would fade away as that invisible barrier formed between us again. Until he was nothing but a memory I confused as a dream. Until the idea of even speaking to him was nothing more than a fantasy.

  It had to.

  And I wanted to live in a world where that barrier didn’t exist for a little longer, where the possibility of touching him and kissing him was as real as every breath pushing from my lungs.

  His words that I so badly wanted to believe were sincere. His hold that had been possessive and gentle. His kisses that were both demanding and pleading. The way his eyes had begged and danced. Most importantly, the way he’d tried to save me . . . and had let me go.

  “After tonight, I know I would chase you, just for you to keep slipping away week after week. But I also know I would willingly do it just to keep seeing you light up the dark.”

  My chest warmed at the memory of his deep, gravelly words. My heart thudded so hard it hurt.

  But I welcomed it. I welcomed the hurt because it was such a sweet reminder that I was alive. That he’d set something inside me free.

  The warmth fled my body, leaving a sickening chill when I glanced to the side as I started to cut across another street. I came to a stop in the middle of the road, and stared at the cemetery down the road.

  I hadn’t been there for years—long before Aric had been murdered. And I’d ached to visit his grave. To say goodbye. To say I was sorry.

  Kieran had always stopped me from going.

  No matter how many times I’d told him I’d needed it to grieve the other brother I’d lost, he’d stopped me.

  “You don’t know who will be watching the graves, Lily,” he’d always said. “I can’t let you go. If they thought for one second you were still alive, there’s only one place they know you would go. You’re staying here.”

  But whether or not they were sure I was alive, I couldn’t stop myself from walking in that direction—as if I was being pulled toward the headstones that marked numerous O’Sullivans and other men and women who had pledged their loyalty to the Holloway Gang throughout the generations.

  My fingers trailed over the tops of the stones of the names I knew, and lingered on Georgie’s for a few seconds before I turned toward the row I’d come for, and found three marble slabs lined up.

  I faltered for only a second when my mind couldn’t immediately process the extra two headstones there, but my steps became slow and unsure as I got close enough to make out the names and dates etched into the stones.

  Each movement I made was suddenly difficult as I realized I’d been wrong . . . all of this was wrong.

  I looked at the slab on the left, marking my brother’s grave, and felt an old ache deep in my chest. It was one I’d seen dozens of times—had visited so often growing up.

  Aiden and Aric had been ten, I’d been eight, when two members of the Borello Gang had slipped into one of our parties and started shooting.

  They were taken out, but not before six of our own had died—including Aiden.

  Both Kieran’s dad and my dad had left immediately, and hadn’t come back until the morning with news that the mafia’s leader was dead.

  Retaliation. It was what happened between the Borellos and us.

  Guess it was naïve of me to think that someday the killing would end.

  The two marble slabs next to Aiden’s that I’d never seen before should have told me that.

  Because I’d thought it was over until the night Aric had been murdered twelve years later.

  I took a shuddering breath in and finally looked at the other headstones.

  My breath rushed out and my knees threatened to give from u
nder me.

  The ache in seeing Aric’s name made the hurt feel too fresh—too new. I wanted to apologize a hundred times for what happened to him. Why it happened.

  If only I hadn’t screamed that night . . .

  But no words came. And no tears fell. Because I couldn’t take my eyes off the headstone on the right.

  The one that made my head light and the world spin.

  The one that made me feel all wrong.

  Because I was still alive. But a living person should never have to look at what I was seeing then.

  Deep down I knew I should’ve been there with my brothers—I should’ve been there in Aric’s place.

  Kieran had said he was trying to prevent someone from recognizing me at the cemetery . . . I should have known he was lying. Should have known he was protecting me from the shock I now felt.

  Because he’d known saying goodbye was something I would never be prepared for—not when this was what I would be met with. Not when seeing a headstone meant for me made me feel so lost. Displaced.

  Not when I was now desperately struggling to find the cord that kept me tethered to earth.

  Forcing my stare away from the headstone, I rushed through the cemetery and back to Holloway Estate.

  I pulled the glasses off my face and prayed I wasn’t seen by anyone, shoving them into my bag as I ran. But as soon as I crossed onto the property line near my house, the night with Dare and the pain in my chest from the cemetery was quickly forgotten.

  Something wasn’t right.

  The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and my heart rate slowed. Everything seemed so loud, but there was no sound.

  It felt so much like when Kieran slipped away and Nightshade took over, but this . . . there was no way to explain this.

  I slowed as my eyes darted everywhere, looking for anything that might explain what was making the night air feel so off. A loud crash suddenly came from the guesthouse, and I slipped, landing roughly on the grass when I tried to quickly change my direction.

  I crawled back a few feet before rolling to my knees and pausing as I strained to hear anything or see anyone in the windows. And that’s when I remembered . . .

 

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