Firefly

by Molly McAdams

  Conor’s mouth twitched into a grimace, acknowledging my words. “But not last night.”

  “Any night would’ve been the wrong night.” I sighed as I looked back at the destruction in the living room, then carefully stepped away from Conor. “Well, are you going to stand guard or help? Because this is my house, and this is where I’m sleeping tonight.”

  His only response was the loud crunching beneath his heavy steps as he quickly passed through the house to the kitchen to find the broom and trash bags.

  We’d barely made a dent in the living room and kitchen when a voice like steel called out, “Leave.”

  I straightened from where I was picking up the shattered pieces of my French press, but didn’t turn to watch Conor leave the house.

  “Shit, that was quite a show you put on back there,” he began, forced amusement dripping like acid from his tone. “I might’ve been impressed with the power and determination in your voice if you hadn’t stormed out like a damn toddler throwing a tantrum. You almost sounded like the queen you’re meant to be.”

  Determination . . . there was that word again.

  I finally turned to look at Mickey, not bothering to hide my hatred for him. Let him assess it how he would. “I was done with the conversation and done listening to the five of you decide what to do with me as though I wasn’t in the room. As though this isn’t my life.”

  “It isn’t.”

  His response was so immediate and brutal that it stunned me. My mouth opened but I was unable to speak.

  “This is Holloway’s life, Lily. This is Holloway’s future. You are Holloway’s future, and we need to protect that future however we see fit.”

  “Protect me?” I asked on a breath. “Is that how you see last night? I protected myself. If the Borellos weren’t so sure I wasn’t kept on this property as I have been my entire life, they wouldn’t come looking for me here. They wouldn’t know where to start looking. If I had a say in how to protect myself, last night wouldn’t have happened.”

  “If you had a say, you would be buried next to your brothers, and Holloway would have no hope for a future.”

  I scoffed, and couldn’t find it anywhere in me to regret the sound when Mickey’s eyes burned with the need to kill anything in his path. Me.

  “There will always be a future for Holloway, Dad. If I end up in the ground next week, there will still be a future. It’s just not the one you want.”

  I bent to return to cleaning, but froze when his next words sounded throughout the small space.

  “There is no future if O’Sullivan blood isn’t at the head. You’d be smart to remember that. You’d be smart to start assuring that.”

  I didn’t move and I didn’t look at him, I just stared, unseeing, at the shattered glass beneath me.

  He sighed in defeat, the sound as foreign as it was fake, because Mickey would never accept defeat. “If the Borellos know you’re alive, there’s no reason to continue acting like you’re not. You’ve had a four-year vacation, and you’re welcome for it. It’s time you remembered your place here, Princess. So do what you always planned to. Marry Kieran and have kids. Ensure our bloodline. Try to make yourself believe you can do half as good a job as I’ve been doing the past twenty years, and maybe the rest of the guys will believe you can too. Maybe I’ll even believe you.”

  He acted like he was giving me the greatest gift instead of sentencing me to a life in this prison.

  For years this conversation was all I had wanted. From the day I’d turned eighteen until just before Aric had died, I’d begged Mickey to let me marry Kieran.

  But it had never been the right time. Even though he knew one day it would happen, it had never benefited Mickey, so he’d brushed my pleas away. And now that the day had finally come, I wished it hadn’t.

  Even if I’d never known what it was like to be kissed so passionately it made my soul cry, I’d still wish this conversation hadn’t happened. Wouldn’t ever happen.

  Because the man who entered my bed at night, the man who kept me at arm’s length both physically and emotionally, was no longer the man I’d always sworn to love. He was no longer someone I even knew. The thought of marrying him had a panic rising deep in my gut. The need to be free of this place became more urgent.

  “I’ll expect your engagement as your thanks,” Mickey said as he walked out of the house.

  His dark warning hung in the air long after he was gone, and with it hopelessness and anger.

  With one conversation, Mickey had reminded me how much control he had over my life . . . had reminded me how he could chain me to this place forever. I could feel the bars of this prison tightening like a noose around my neck, and I was helpless to stop them. Helpless to stop him.

  Johnny twitched in anticipation. After what’d happened at Holloway and with Firefly the last couple days, I’d wanted to beat him unconscious and leave him back at the house.

  Which is why he was next to me.

  Johnny went where I went. If I stopped bringing him, he would know why. He would know he’d fucked up in a big way. I couldn’t have an unstable Johnny in my house.

  Besides, I needed him with me. To remind me why I was doing this. To force me to remain calm enough for the two of us when I wanted to lash out at the person responsible for me being here.

  Not just here, in the darkened office of this house.

  But here. In this place I’d spent years slowly, painstakingly pulling the Borellos out of. The place my great-grandfather and his two brothers had first put us in when they’d moved down here from Chicago.

  Gunrunning and extortion. That was how we’d survived.

  No business ran in this town without giving a cut to my family, and no one had secrets we didn’t know about and used to our advantage.

  I’d shut down the gunrunning permanently the year my dad died, just after I’d turned fourteen. Since then, I’d been trying to legitimize the family. Most of the older members weren’t happy—and most were still old school like Johnny—even after fifteen years.

  But with the help of Einstein, the twins, and a reluctant Johnny, I made peace with the businesses in town where I could. Offered help when they needed it. Invested in others to keep them running. Bought out businesses from burnt-out owners who were afraid of losing money—like Brooks Street. And put an end to all extortion.

  Which is why being here was so goddamn frustrating.

  I glanced at my phone and blew out a slow breath as I resisted the urge to shift in my seat. “Minute,” I murmured to Johnny. “Less than. Stop twitching, you look like a fucking addict.”

  He grunted in reply, but stopped moving. Which only made him start vibrating with the need to move.

  “Jesus, Johnny,” I whispered just before the door to the home office opened.

  Johnny went still at the sight of the older man walking through the door, unaware of our presence. I didn’t need to be able to see my friend to know he wore an animalistic smile beneath his bandana. I knew him well enough.

  Something unseen clicked the door shut behind the man, casting the room in darkness once again.

  “Wha—”

  “Have a seat, Judge.”

  By the time the judge flipped on the light, I was leaning forward in the chair to rest my gun on his desk so it was pointed at him.

  He raised his chin in defiance but his eyes were wide with fear. “The police have been—”

  “Lie.”

  My observation stunned him, but he didn’t attempt to bullshit me again.

  “I told you to have a seat. I’d say it’s rude not to.”

  His breathing grew rougher as he looked from me to Johnny, weighing his options. He could’ve easily run back out of the room, but he wouldn’t make it far.

  Not that he knew that.

  “What do you want?”

  I released my hold on the gun to sit back and gestured to the chairs on the opposite side of his desk. “If you sit, I’ll tell you. This can all be over in a few
minutes. We’ll leave, you’ll be alive. You can go back to all the illegal things you do that you think nobody knows about . . . just another Saturday night, if you ask me.”

  “Illegal,” he said with a scoff. “I am a federal judge, I would—”

  I tossed a small stack of papers across the desk, rolling my eyes beneath my hood.

  His face paled and mouth opened, but no excuse left him. “Where did you get this?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Where did you get this? It isn’t—that’s not—I don’t know how—”

  “Don’t bother telling me that isn’t your signature, I’ve already confirmed that it is. I also have an eye witness to you signing. And what these papers tell me is that you are a dirty son of a bitch who gets off on the thought of kidnapped girls.”

  “They’re of legal age,” he stuttered after a chunk of silence.

  A shocked breath punched from my lungs.

  If I didn’t need you, I’d let Johnny loose on you.

  “They’re still stolen and sold against their will,” I reminded him.

  “What do you want?” His eyes were wide with panic when he looked back at me. “How much do you want? I’ll give you—”

  “Anything?” I asked with a wicked grin hidden beneath my bandana. “Thought you might say that. I’m sure you’re good for it too because you don’t want to lose your job or your reputation . . . now do you?”

  He sat there gaping like a fish before he started sobbing like a child.

  “Fucking hell,” Johnny mumbled. “Maybe they should kidnap and sell him.”

  I smirked. “Here’s what you’re going to do if you want to keep your reputation, job, and life—in that order.” I leaned forward and dropped my voice, making sure he understood every word I said. “You go along like everything’s how it’s supposed to be. You don’t tell Mickey or anyone else about our exchange. And when the time comes, you tell the FBI everything you know about Mickey’s plans for this human trafficking ring. We’ll guarantee there’s someone to confirm you were never a part of this.”

  “How foolish are you? I don’t know who you are, but you can’t guarantee anything except for my death if I cross Mick O’Sullivan.” He snatched the papers up and waved them between us. “He already has my signature. He already has payments from me. He’ll have me killed if I back out now, let alone sell him out to the FBI.”

  I nodded toward the corner of the room, near the doors, and huffed a laugh. “I can guarantee your death if you don’t.”

  The judge turned slowly, his jaw falling slack as he noticed for the first time the fourth man in the room.

  A man as silent as the night.

  I was rushed by Teagan as soon as I set foot in Brooks Street on Monday morning, nearly knocking us both to the floor.

  “Oh my God, I’ve been going out of my mind. I didn’t know if you were alive. Finn said—but I knew. Somehow I knew that if anyone could escape them, it would be you. I knew I needed to be waiting for you this morning. If they’d taken you or if you’d escaped, I had to still be waiting so you would know I hadn’t given up on you,” she rambled as tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “I’m fine,” I assured her when she paused long enough to take a breath. “I’m fine. What did Finn say? I’ve been home since Thursday afternoon. The guys were all informed of what happened at the meeting yesterday.”

  A cold, hateful look crossed her face at the news. “He came home so mad . . .”

  My stare immediately fell to her neck and arms, looking for any signs that he’d hurt her recently.

  “Don’t. I’m fine. He just came home cussing and kicking things over before he started drinking. He passed out on the couch sometime last night.” Her head shook, the movement slight as if she couldn’t understand. “He got a call Wednesday night. It was late enough he didn’t even bother leaving the bedroom when he called his dad to talk to him about it because he thought I was still asleep. It was about your house being trashed and you missing. He’s been so quiet since. He hasn’t said a word or had a call with anyone else. I was sure there would’ve been another call with his dad after the meeting yesterday, or Bailey would’ve come over. But there was nothing. When he came home so angry, I thought . . . I thought . . .” Her chin wavered and fresh tears filled her eyes.

  “Let’s sit and I’ll tell you what happened.” I rubbed her shoulder in a lame attempt to soothe her, and silently led her back to our normal booth where two coffees already waited.

  I’d just helped her into her side when everything she’d said finally clicked.

  “Of course Finn’s angry,” I whispered, a disbelieving laugh punching from my chest as I moved to sit on my side. “Of course. Now that you know I’m okay, think about it. He and Bailey have been waiting for that last big thing to happen so they could overthrow Mickey. Me being taken by a Borello would’ve been their perfect opportunity.”

  I watched as realization hit, slowly replaced by horror. Teagan’s head shook quickly. “You think he set this up?”

  My brows lifted in surprise. “What—no. I didn’t say that, I just meant it would’ve been perfect. The Borellos would’ve handed the opportunity to Bailey and Finn on a silver platter.”

  And suddenly it seemed too perfect.

  How the Borellos knew exactly where I was. How they knew which night to hit.

  If it was even them at all.

  I don’t know how long I’d been staring at the table in dread before I looked at Teagan again, but she was covering her mouth as her head continued to shake, this time slowly.

  “Where was he Wednesday night?”

  “Home,” she responded from behind her hand. “All night, and I have no reason to lie for that bastard. Finn’s parents had dinner with us. He and Bailey both left the room a couple times for work calls, but—”

  “That’s normal,” I finished for her, nodding in agreement. “It’s probably just a stretch. What isn’t is that it would’ve been a perfect opportunity for them, and that has to be why he was so mad yesterday.”

  “You’re right,” she said after a minute, then dropped her hands to the table. “Now tell me what happened. I’ve been going—”

  “You ladies ready to order?”

  I glanced up at the feminine voice that came from beside us, and knew I wasn’t able to hide my surprise in seeing her standing there instead of Ethan. He’d been our waiter every week for the last two years.

  My stomach twisted when I remembered Wednesday night, when I remembered how different he was after he’d been drinking and how Dare had been there.

  And this was Dare’s mom’s café.

  I hated thinking the way he’d acted when he drank might be the reason he wasn’t here this morning. Then again, he might actually be dangerous if he’d come across a normal girl.

  But that wasn’t something I would know.

  I’d been raised to be a pawn by a man who manipulated people, bending them to his will.

  I wasn’t exactly normal.

  As soon as we’d finished ordering, Teagan said, “Right. That happened too. She came up and asked for a drink order when I first got here. Said Ethan doesn’t work here anymore.”

  My eyes fluttered shut and I exhaled slowly. “Yeah, uh, I’m pretty sure I know why. Last week—” My words caught in my throat as that familiar, heady electricity slid over my skin.

  It felt like the sweetest Hello after the most heart-wrenching Goodbye.

  I opened my eyes to Teagan’s frustrated glare that was slowly turning more confused, and I knew without turning around that he was coming closer.

  I could feel it in the way that electric current went from a soft hum to a steady buzz.

  As much as I wanted to see him, as much as I wanted to experience everything he could give me again and again, I wanted to hate him for giving me a taste of bliss before ripping it away so brutally.

  “Firefly.”

  A shuddering breath tore from me at the ache in his tone, at h
aving him so close, but I didn’t look away from Teagan. Her shock from hearing him speak wasn’t lost as she looked from him to me.

  “Elle, please,” he begged when I didn’t respond and reached for my hand where it rested on the table. “Let me talk to you.”

  Teagan’s eyes widened at the contact, a sneer curling on her lips.

  When her eyes met mine, they said more than words could.

  She felt betrayed. She was furious.

  “I can explain,” I mouthed to her, but she simply shook her head.

  “Five minutes,” Dare continued. “Plea—”

  “You’ve said enough,” I whispered, slanting him a glare and wishing more than anything I hadn’t looked at him.

  Because that look made me want his words and his lips and his hands despite his callous rejection.

  It made me want him to try to explain away what he said.

  It made me want to cry because he’d crossed that invisible barrier again.

  He nodded slowly. “But not what needs to be said.”

  “Dare—”

  “Five minutes.”

  I looked at him warily before glancing back at an outraged Teagan.

  I knew no matter what I decided then, I was going to have to explain myself. I was going to have to tell her about last week. In detail. And while I thought I’d already known—my heart needed to know how this was going to end with Dare before I did that.

  “Five minutes, and then I tell you everything,” I promised Teagan.

  I’d barely started sliding out of the booth before Dare was pulling me the rest of the way and hurrying us through the café and into an office.

  As soon as the door was shut and locked behind us, I gritted out, “You’re a bastard,” at the same time he said, “I’m sorry.”

  Just two words, but they were filled with so much pain and exhaustion and worry.

  “Yes, Elle, I’m a bastard. That and a thousand other things.” He slowly moved toward me, gauging my reaction as he lifted his hands to curl them around my face. “But I am so goddamn sorry.”

  “Don’t do this,” I pleaded. “Don’t confuse my heart when we both know how you feel.”