by V. Theia
“Have you?” She fired at him, emotional bullets spraying everywhere. Dying for the right answer and dreading the wrong one.
He looked over and her stomach muscles tightened. It wasn’t a particularly evocative glance, nor was it menacing. Danny was never that kind of man. But it was heated, and she felt it in every nerve ending in her body until the point she couldn’t sit still.
“What is it you want me to say? That I couldn’t get over you, so I haven’t been with anyone else?”
“Yes,” she said too fast, her insides stumbling like an out of control geyser firing excitement at will. “That’s what I would like to hear if it’s the truth. I’d feel better knowing it wasn’t only me with those feelings. Have you had twelve women? You said you couldn’t… you said my mouth was the only one.”
“I don’t lie, Aoife.”
The way he said it. In that superior haughty tone of his caused her eyes to narrow and for her to hold onto her temper.
“Meaning I do? Is that what you’d be saying to me right now, Danny?”
“You had a husband for a number of years and you have a child with a mobster. Unless your name is Mary, you can’t claim your virginity back, sweetheart. Not for your sake or for mine, it’s not necessary.”
Just like that, his eyes looking over at her were dark and cloudy and she saw clearly everything he’d held in. The unspoken words … the unsaid accusations. The anger of it all was there in his gaze that punched clean through her stomach.
It was as if she were looking at a brand-new version of Danny Murphy.
One who could easily hurt her.
Lifting her chin, strengthening her shaking bones, Aoife smiled tightly. “Careful there, pastor. You’re close to calling me a slut. I only turn into a whore for you, remember.”
His face dropped.
“Aoife I didn’t…dammit, I would never.”
“Save it. You said it already. Have a nice day. I’m going for a nap with Misha.” Plucking the baby up, using the small body as a shield to her bleeding feelings, she walked by him, avoiding his hand reaching out. “Aoife, I didn’t say that.”
Hurt shot through her like nothing else before. “You better own what you just said because it’s the reason you’re about to lose me.”
The sound of high pressure was coming only from one place and that was her ruined heart.
That’s what he thought of her?
She didn’t hear anything more he said as she marched up the stairs, staring into big blue eyes. She kissed Misha’s cheek and the wee one clapped both hands on Aoife’s face.
At least someone loved her.
FIFTEEN
“They’re called bad ideas for a reason.” – Aoife
“We should spend all his money is what we should do, A stóirín. Isn’t that right?”
Aoife murmured to the baby strapped to her chest as she idled around the grocery store tossing another tube of Pringles into the cart. “We’ll bankrupt him with these delicious Reese’s thingies that I don’t even like but we’re buying just because. So take that high and mighty pastor.” She went on muttering to herself as more junk food piled into the cart she was pushing around the store just down the street from Danny’s house.
She’d gone against everything he’d said and left the house an hour ago.
So what, she huffed with her spine straight and her temper still as flame hot as her hair. Ever since she heard him leave while she hid upstairs. The cloth-headed man didn’t even have the decency to come up and beg on his hands and knees for forgiveness for the unthinkable things. So as the minutes went by, Aoife’s notorious temper flared, so it did.
She riled herself into a giant head of steam.
There was nothing like a good Irish temper.
Some would say she was just like her mother in that respect and that only worsened Aoife’s mood.
“I bet you’d want all the chocolate, wouldn’t you?” The baby was sleeping so she didn’t answer. And she couldn’t talk…so. Aoife chose a big bar of almond chocolate and then decided to look in the clothes section. He’d given her the card to pay for takeout delivers and she was sure he didn’t intend for her to take a trip to the grocery store in full view of everyone.
No one took any notice of Aoife.
As it went, no one cared about the red-haired woman with a baby in tow shopping for junk food and though she was still spitting mad at Danny, it was great to be outside again.
She needed her sensibilities back and chocolate would help.
For days she’d been caught up in winning Danny back.
Falling in love with him all over again.
Getting to know the man he was now, and all that time she’d left herself wide open to being hurt by careless words.
You haven’t told him the whole truth.
Nothing hurt worse than Danny’s lack of trust.
She had no reason to be hurt other than she was.
Time and trust and yadda, yadda, yadda, she was a terribly impatient woman, ask anyone.
Sex was sex, she supposed.
It didn’t come with a side plate of overflowing confidence and possibly the only decent advice she was given from her father, was that nothing worth it came easy.
He was talking about crime, but it could apply to love too.
She needed diligence and to give him time.
And to tell him the full truth.
But first; chocolate. A lot of chocolate.
“Let’s go home, A stóirín.” She said to the still sleeping baby with one bag of goodies in one hand as she held her coat together with the other. It was new and oversized and just right to shield Misha from the blowing breeze outside the shop. “Home. That sounds nice,” she smiled to herself and because she was in her head thinking of how it would feel to go home to Danny every day, she nearly collided with a block of steel. “My apologies,” she said to the huge man, holding the door open for him as part of her apology.
Only the steel bolder didn’t move.
In fact he crowded closer and the fine hairs on the back of Aoife’s neck rose just as her eyes did, to see a menacing face staring down at her with neither a smile nor a welcome on those Russian features.
Accepting a well-paid job with a member of a crime organization was perhaps not Aoife’s best decision of her life. Though to be fair, she hadn’t know that at the time. She’d gleaned from conversations with Yelena over the months, just how dangerous Grigori and his men were. And though most of those men suddenly disappeared recently, this one she didn’t recognize, but he had that evil man vibe about him.
Stupidly, she hadn’t cared where her paycheck came from as long as she could earn enough to build a life on this side of the world and hope to rekindle with Danny one day.
Now she was regretting not walking away that first day she was told to shut her mouth and do her job.
“Boss look for you. Come.” He grabbed her elbow. The grip was unshakable.
“I don’t think so, sonny-Jim. Get the hell off me before I scream and bring the cops in seconds.” For as mouthy as she sounded, the panic swelled as hot as a summer’s day within Aoife’s sternum and her eyes frantically roamed along the street for the amount of people that could witness her possible death if she kicked this guy and tried to run.
She’d traveled thousands of miles in hopes of leaving behind a family that only knew how to bring shame and hurt to her life. Who thought nothing of offering up their daughter in exchange for money. The same family who robbed Peter to pay Paul and did this religiously frequent.
How then did she land herself in the midst of people who were so much bigger in the criminal world?
Maybe she was cursed.
Being stared at by a member of the Russian mafia meant she was out of options and wholly regretting stepping out of the rectory house against Danny’s orders.
Danny.
Her heart constricted.
Loving him felt like being bathed in pure goodness. All her wrong doings we
re washed away when he looked at her.
He was never one of those bad-boy brooding men.
He’d been her oasis in a life of shit, and she couldn’t—hell no, she wouldn’t give in so easily. Not when she had a baby to protect and a man to make fall back in love with her again.
The great wall of China wasn’t built in a day, and neither was finally reconnecting her path to Danny Murphy.
“Get your filthy hand off me before I start screaming.”
“Boss want back. He said bring you.”
“Tell your boss I quit.”
His face didn’t flicker. Almost as if he were bored of his assignment, and she was about to tell him to go on his merry way and forget he’d ever seen her when he lifted a hand and patted a distinct bulge on his chest.
Either the guy had grown a boob, or he was demonstrating how big and masculine he was by letting her know that he had a weapon.
Fuck and that, she thought.
It’s strange what a woman, who was outweighed by a considerable lot both heaviness and height, would do in times of crisis, because she kicked him right in the shin. It was enough to dislodge his hand from her upper arm.
She hadn’t crossed the ocean, found a job—the wrong one as it turned out— set about a stable life, a good life, in hopes of winning back the love of her heart, to then have that chance cut down.
Hell to the no way.
She booted the bigger man again with her tennis shoe, swearing right in his face before she opened her mouth ready to let rip the biggest, loudest scream of her life.
She didn’t care what attention she attracted, as long as it was enough to get the big asshole to leave her alone. She’d even talk to the police and take the chance she’d get herself into trouble for not reporting a murder sooner.
“I don’t want hurt you,” He growled in his thick accent, crowding her and giving the exact opposite impression to his statement.
Aoife was from a world where if it appeared bad and was bad, then it was absolutely fucking bad. And everything about whatshisname screamed badness.
Never let them take you to a second location. Second locations were for getting really fucking dead and Aoife … call her stupid—because most of the time she was, she didn’t fancy getting herself dead today.
“Then walk away and leave me alone if you don’t want to hurt me, Russian guy. I quit. Boss doesn’t need to see me now.”
She’d seen once on a document how to keep an attacker talking so they couldn’t take you to a second location. “You seem like a reasonable guy, not hurting girls and babies kind of man at all. Let’s be reasonable, okay?” His two big bushy eyebrows folded in. He was no less scary with a scar across one cheekbone.
“Boss want back.”
“Well boss can’t have back!”
She’d claw him and all the Russian goons Grigori sent after her to death before she handed over Misha to the mob. She was a helpless baby and didn’t deserve that kind of cruel life.
“Now is this any way to get you a date, fella?” A roughened voice said approaching and Aoife could only sigh with that thank God kind of relief slipping through her veins. “I don’t know how it’s done in Putin’s territory, but dragging off a woman to your cave is so BC. That’s Before Christ for your pea brain, read your history books.”
She got the fright of her life when she turned to see the tallest, meanest, bald headed man swinging a leg down from a huge beast of a motorcycle.
At his side was another man on his own machine, but her eyes were drawn back to the meaner one.
As all bad guys did when their nefarious plans were interrupted, Grigori’s minion bristled, stopping Aoife from moving out of his way. His hand on her wrist tightened like a pained shackle. “Who are you? Walk away, American. This does not concern you.”
“I’m Lawless. Who the fuck are you? Actually, I don’t care, I’m already bored.” The man clipped.
Aoife noticed he and his buddy wore leather jackets with terrifying grim reaper’s on the back. She remembered Danny telling her the MC helping them was the Renegade Souls.
Thank you, God.
Danny was going to be so pissed at her for this.
“Thank you for stopping. This man won’t let me go.”
“You come with me,” he hissed in his broken English.
“I need to get home,” She implored to the bald guy and it was then the other one with a clipped goatee beard and fathoms deep black eyes, stepped into the fray and forcibly unshackled her wrist by applying pressure to the Russian’s arm.
He let go instantly and she got the hell out of there.
Not even stopping to turn around to see if they were killing Grigori’s man.
She didn’t care and didn’t want to watch at the same time.
Out of breath when she reached the rectory, she’d never been so happy to see a green door before and her hand shook trying to fit the key in the lock.
Through all that commotion, Misha had snoozed away.
Once inside, Aoife double bolted the door and leaned against it.
Breathless, her heart pounding, cold terror sliding through her nervous system, she sank to the carpeted hallway and cried with her two arms around Misha.
It was there Danny found her, however many minutes later.
From the way he swept through the back door, letting it slam into the wall, and his blue eyes wild, she’d guessed he’d been informed of the saga by his biker friends.
“I’m sorry,” she sobbed on her knees. “I should have listened. I’m so stupid, you should throw me into the street, so you should. Toss me to the wolves. Kick me out without a slice of bread to eat. I don’t deserve you, Danny.” Her cries were dramatic.
“You silly girl,” he chastised quietly, approaching in five quick steps he was crouched and hauling her plus the baby into his arms in seconds. His hand stroked her hair, her back, shushing her with quiet toned words. “What would I have done if I’d lost you again? What would happen to me, Aoife?”
Her heart flailed. She cried harder, soaking his shirt. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I was mad.”
“Get mad. Punch me, kick and bite me. Throw things, call me all the tossers under the sun, but don’t do that again.” He spoke into her hair. “I nearly died taking Lawless’ call. It nearly killed me to hear someone could have dragged you off the street where I couldn’t do a thing to stop it.”
Emotions stung her nose as well as flooded her eyes, hearing how much he cared for her, as it trembled through his otherwise strong voice. She looked up through tear filled eyes when he cupped both sides of her face, using his thumbs to staunch the drench of wetness, and he kissed all over her cheeks. She reveled in the starved, relieved kisses.
“I don’t care how long it’s been, Aoife, you’ve been my world since I was a kid. You keep living for me, because I’d die without you. I swear to God right now, if something happens to you, I’ll kill you myself.”
That was some Irish logic and it made her laugh because she felt exactly the same. Her heart swelled so rapidly she was dizzy with relief and euphoria.
Tension fled, and she clung to him, actions over words were needed here, even when Misha stirred and began to fuss for being squashed between two bodies, she just held on tight and breathed in his scent. Knowing for now she was safe and back with Danny.
Boss want back.
Playing on a loop, she knew it would only be a matter of time.
SIXTEEN
“Accept the signs. God doesn’t stutter… nor does he make mistakes.” – Danny
“Nah, nothing to worry about. He was a third-rate lackey at best, hardly on the Russian totem pole. Capone had a friendly word with him. My boy doesn’t take kindly to men treating women, especially with kids, badly. The guy sang like a canary. He was paid to bring her back to where his boss is. He kept saying she had something that belonged to Grigori.”
Misha. Danny thought. The Russian mobster wasn’t stopping in trying to find his kid. But then
why, out in the open, with a man twice Aoife’s size, didn’t the Russian try to snatch Misha?
It didn’t make sense.
“Thanks for being there,” Danny told Lawless. He hadn’t wanted to come inside, so the pair were speaking outside his house.
“This isn’t our usual gig, you get me, holy man? I’m not chasing down girls, so tell yours to stay parked, or next time my guy might not notice she’d slipped out and followed her.”
Danny was still sick over it. He assured it wouldn’t happen again.
“I think you gotta consider giving the kid back, or he won’t stop hounding your girl. This guy doesn’t play fair, he’ll get nasty. And you have bigger religious fish to fry, if you catch my drift.”
Danny knew that. He hadn’t stopped thinking about how this would affect his job and place in the community if it worsened. But it was only a passing thought because he knew he’d do anything … give up anything, to keep her safe.
He wasn’t lying.
She was his world. The love of his life.
It didn’t matter to him how she’d come back to him.
He took his signs where he found them.
If you asked God for help while you were stuck in the snow and he sent a sleigh and you didn’t get on it, assuming help would come elsewhere, then it’s on you when you died. Danny prayed for help and it came in the guise of toughened bikers.
But to take their advice and give up Misha, when his heart was already in the tiny palm of her hand? He wouldn’t do it.
“Would you hand over a child to a man like that?”
“As despicable as the bratva are, he’s not gonna kill his own kid.” Offered Lawless. Danny couldn’t tell whether he believed his own words, the biker was oddly unreadable. “They’re a business. He’s about making money.”
Danny wasn’t so sure.
He went back inside, locked up and found Aoife where he’d left her with a worried look on her face.
He went to her instantly, taking her in his arms, only then did he feel like he could breathe easily.