by Sweet, Izzy
“Bigger piece of the pie is my guess,” Andrew says.
“Same here, especially since I talked to the Heralds of Hell. Their Sergeant at Arms, Cane, is pretty pissed at the Irish as well. They were getting a good supply of guns from them that’s dried up recently,” Johnathan says.
Looking over to him, I ask, “They still the top dog MC over there?”
“Were,” he responds to me. “They got knocked down a few pegs when the leader died and his son got too big for his britches. That, and the fucking Cartel they have popping up all over the place there.”
“They’re going to be a problem before too long if we don’t keep an eye on them,” Jude says. “The Cartel is up in Ohio, and it’s not exactly going well for the big cities.”
“They are unfortunately for another day,” Simon says as he flips the laptop around on his lap to show us a picture.
“Who’d like a deathmark on their head?” he asks with a laugh.
Looking at the picture on the screen, I see a pretty blonde woman with brown eyes staring vacantly back at us.
“I shot her at the wedding,” Jude says.
“Well, one of us just pissed off a really bad woman. This is Tanya Petrov. Her twin sister is Anya Petrov. And we’ve just taken out one of the two deadliest women the FSB has ever produced,” Simon says with a grimace.
“Meaning what, Simon?” Lucifer asks.
“Anya Petrov is going to come gunning for us, and with her abilities, it won’t be pretty.” Simon clicks on another set of pictures that shows two Russian men.
“Misha Sokolov. Alexei’s right-hand man when it comes to the slaver’s trade since we killed off Sasha. Which is good for us and bad for them. I don’t recognize the rest off the top of my head, but I’ll be going through the prints and mugshots,” Simon says before snapping his laptop shut.
“Next item of business, you married Meghan Callahan, Gabriel. Why is it that every time one of my men finds a woman from the wrong side of things, they marry her?” Lucifer asks with a chuckle.
“They want to be just like dear old dad,” James says from the floor where he’s slid himself up against the wall.
Shrugging, Lucifer looks over to Simon. “This will actually be working in our favor. We could have tortured her for what little information she probably had and then left her for dead somewhere… But this way we have more leverage. Especially in the future if we remove the Russians from the equation.”
Just the mention of someone laying a finger on my woman has my vision turning red. I can feel the fucking rage flood through my veins so quickly I almost leap from the chair to throttle Lucifer for daring to entertain the thought.
“Not fucking happening,” I growl through gritted teeth.
Lucifer takes a moment to look at me, and I think he’s looking at me for the first time as the monster I am. “Agreed.”
We stare at each other for a long time, the men around us talking and joking about the church hit. Not us, though.
“Men, I do believe dinner will be served in a bit. Give Gabriel and I a moment to catch up before then,” he says while still maintaining eye contact.
Simon starts to object before Lucifer raises a hand to cut him off.
When the room clears, Lucifer says, “It’s been a long time since you went in Gabriel.”
“It has,” I say in response.
“Do you think I’ve forgotten what you did for me?” he asks seriously. His eyes still have that odd fucking glow to them after all these years.
They have a way of looking directly into your soul. Looking so thoroughly through all those hidden corners of your mind.
“You got me out. I think you’ve done exactly what you promised,” I say.
“That’s not what I asked,” He responds.
“No, I don’t think you’ve forgotten what I did. You couldn’t go in without this family going to ruin. Simon wouldn’t have made it through. I doubt John would have been able to, either. I was the one who had what it took to get through it all,” I say with a shrug.
The intensity gone now, both of us lean back in our chairs.
“Why did it seem like you were about to strangle me back there?” he asks.
“You mentioned harm coming to my woman,” I say with a laugh.
“Is she yours already, Gabriel?” he asks.
Without hesitation, I answer, “Yes.”
7
Meghan
“Cream and sugar?” Lily asks as she pours fresh coffee into a mug for me.
“Yes, please,” I respond distractedly, too busy looking around and trying to wrap my head around this surreal situation.
Is this really happening? Am I really standing in this upscale kitchen, surrounded by sparkling stainless steel appliances, with this woman who’s dressed like she just stepped off of a Paris runway?
It feels too strange to be real. This perfect kitchen, Lily acting as the perfect hostess. Perhaps I’m still drugged and I’m hallucinating.
Lily adds a little cream and sugar and slides the mug over to me.
I pick it up, say, “Thank you,” and take a tentative sip.
The coffee is almost too hot, but my body’s response to the heat is reassuring.
As I set the mug back down, though, I notice the lettering wrapping around it.
Coffee Makes Me Poop.
Yeah… there’s no way this is really happening. It’s official, I’ve lost my ever-loving mind. Any minute I’m going to wake up.
And then what?
Get married to Alexei.
Fuck.
I really hope this isn’t a dream.
“Meghan?” Lily says, the thick concern in her voice pulling my attention back to her. “Are you okay? I’ve heard you had quite the day…”
I stare at her face for a moment, trying to determine if she’s being sincere or just faking it. She’s quite beautiful, stunning really, I realize. Even with her lips pulled down and her eyes narrowed with worry.
“Yeah, you can say that again.” I sigh and reach for the mug again.
Lily’s eyes flick down to the mug and back up to my face, the concerned look still firmly in place. “Perhaps something a little stronger is in order?”
I pause with the mug in midair then quickly put it back down and push it toward her. “I’ll take the strongest booze you have on hand.”
Lily nods and moves around the gleaming granite kitchen island. Bending down, she disappears from my sight and I hear bottles clinking together.
“Is whiskey okay?” she asks.
“Yes, that’s fine. Thank you,” I reply and frown.
Her politeness is beginning to make me a little uncomfortable and suspicious. Why is she being so nice to me? Does she have an ulterior motive?
Her blonde head reappears and she walks back to me with a bottle of amber liquid clutched in her hand.
Untwisting the lid, she tops my mug off and gives me an apologetic smile as she stirs it. “I’m sorry, it’s not Irish.”
“Being Irish is overrated,” I mutter before picking the mug back up and quickly gulping from it.
Lily’s apologetic smile turns sad, and I’m hit with a little pang of regret for causing it. Even if she does have an ulterior motive, she’s been nothing but polite, and I’m acting like a rude ass.
I quickly take another gulp of my spiked coffee to wash the pang away.
“Do you want to talk about what happened?”
My first reaction is to tell her no, hell no. I don’t want to relive a single moment. I want to get drunk and forget the whole thing happened.
But maybe, just maybe, if she’s truly sympathetic, she can help me out of this mess. Maybe, if I work her right, appeal to her woman to woman, she can help me get away.
I take another gulp of the spiked coffee and then ask, “How much do you know?”
Lily glances nervously at the door before admitting quietly, “I’ve only heard a little here and there. I know you were to marry that Russian, Ale
xei.”
When she speaks Alexei’s name a look of utter disgust passes over her face.
And my heart begins to swell with foolish hope.
“I didn’t want to marry him,” I feel the need to point out. “I was forced into it.”
She nods her head, the look of disgust fading away, but her eyes are full of questions.
I decide the best course of action is to start from the beginning. I don’t need to bullshit her or even exaggerate the circumstances. The truth is horrible enough to make my case.
“They drugged me. When I came to, I found myself in a back room of the church, wearing this wedding dress…”
Lily’s eyes grow wide, and they only grow wider and wider as I give her every detail, not leaving anything out. I want her to have every, gritty, gory detail. I want her to know what they did to me.
As I tell my story, I notice her glancing wistfully at the bottle of whiskey, as if just hearing what happened to me makes her need a drink. But for whatever reason she never reaches for the bottle.
When I finally reach Lucifer’s phone call, her face flushes with a blush.
That’s interesting…
Ignoring the blush, I wrap things up quickly and end the story by spreading my hands and saying, “And now I’m here.”
Lily nods her head slowly and glances at the bottle again. I reach out and nudge it toward her, but she shakes her head.
When I arch my brow, she explains, “I’m pregnant.”
Of course she is, I think as Lucifer’s call replays in my head. I bet that’s all these men do. Lock their women up and fill their bellies with babies.
Her blush darkens as I force a tight smile, grab my mug, and tell her, “Congratulations.”
I finish off the rest of my spiked coffee and almost ask for a refill, as nasty as it is.
An uncomfortable silence falls over the kitchen as we both process the story I told.
Then we both speak at once.
Lily says, “Meghan, I’m glad you’re—”
As I say, “Lily, I know it’s—”
We both cut ourselves off and laugh with embarrassment.
“Go on,” Lily encourages me.
I hesitate, wishing I could hear what she was going to say first. It’d be nice to have an idea of what she’s thinking right now. If she’s even moved by my situation.
Taking a deep breath, I gather what emotional fortitude I have left, and say, “Lily, I know it’s a lot to ask, but I need your help.”
Lily’s face immediately shuts down, becoming guarded, like a switch was just flipped.
Damn. I was afraid of that.
“What do you need?” she asks, glancing at the door again.
No doubt she’s worried someone might overhear this conversation.
The little hope I had deflates behind my ribs.
I should have known better than to take this risk. She’s Lucifer’s wife, and if she’s anything like the Irish women, above all else, she’s loyal to him.
I have to ask, though. I have to. I already let one opportunity slip through my fingers when I gave Gabriel’s phone back to him without a fight, and who knows how many more chances I’ll get.
“Help me get away,” I whisper. “Please.”
Lily’s expression softens as her eyes meet my eyes, and for a moment I almost believe all hope is not lost.
Perhaps she’s different…
Then she sighs and says gently, “Meghan, you said yourself Alexei is determined to have you. And knowing what I know, what everyone knows about him, if I help you get away, do you really think he won’t hunt you down? That he won’t spare any resource or expense to find you and right this slight against him?”
My shoulders slump in defeat and disappointment.
“He might not,” I weakly counter. “He might consider me a lost cause…”
But even I don’t believe that. Even if Alexei no longer wants me as his bride, I know he and my father will hunt me down for the principle of it. They’ve been more than slighted, they’ve been downright humiliated. And in our life, in our circles, your reputation, your honor, your standing in the fucking social pecking order, is just as valuable, if not as valuable, as all the money and connections you possess.
Insults are as deadly as weapons.
“He will,” Lily says firmly with assurance. “He’s going to come for you, and we’re the only family who has ever stood up to him and survived it. We’re the only family that’s punished him and made him pay for his transgressions.”
With each word she speaks, I feel myself inwardly withdrawing from her more and more. She doesn’t realize it, but her surety, her confidence, her damn belief, in what will play out is putting me on edge.
“So you’re not going to help me?” I ask, doing my best to keep my bottom lip from quivering. Doing my best to keep the damn tears out of my eyes as the full hopeless reality of my situation sinks its claws into my brain. “You think I should just accept what happened? I should just accept that I’m a fucking pawn that can be handed off to man after man?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all,” Lily is quick to say in her defense. “I don’t think you should be a pawn. And I don’t think you need to accept others making decisions for you.”
“Then what are you saying?” I ask, honestly confused.
What is her point? What the hell is she getting at?
Lily’s eyes slide away for a moment before they slide back to me. “What I was trying to say,” she says softly. “Is that I’m glad you’re here, Meghan. I truly am.”
“Why are you glad I’m here?” I press, still not getting it.
Lily reaches out, gently taking my hands in hers and looks me directly in the eyes. “Because here is the safest place you can be.”
I resist the urge to jerk my hands back and scoff at her. The safest place I can be? Here? Seriously? I’m at the mercy of an organization, a family, that has no fondness or attachment to me. I don’t even have blood on my side. Yet again, I’m a fucking pawn, a bargaining chip, for someone to use as they please.
Noticing my look of disbelief, Lily gently squeezes my hands and it’s on the tip of my tongue to remind her how Alexei hurt me.
Then she says, looking deeply into my eyes once more as if she’s trying to get through to me, “Gabriel will protect you. He’s your best chance at staying alive.”
Her words fill me with a mixture of hot anger and cold terror.
Because she’s right.
But, “Only until he no longer has a use for me.”
Lily opens her mouth, no doubt ready to argue, but she’s cut off by an ear-splitting screech.
Two little girls come squealing and giggling into the kitchen, playing a game of tag or chase.
Dropping my hands, Lily’s lips pull down into a frown as she turns to the girls. “Evelyn and Abigail, what did I tell you girls about running and yelling in the house?”
The little blonde girl comes to such an abrupt stop that the little girl with dark curls that was chasing her stumbles into her back. They both squeak and nearly fall over, but quickly catch their balance.
The blonde checks on her friend, making sure she’s okay, before looking to Lily. “You told us not to, Mommy,” she says in the sweetest little voice.
Lily nods her head, switching effortlessly into full mommy mode.
She gives both the girls a stern look. “And what did I tell you the punishment would be if I caught you doing it again, Evelyn?”
Evelyn’s face falls and her bottom lips begins to jut out, but then her big eyes land on me.
Her entire face suddenly lights up, doing a complete one-eighty, and she squeals, “A princess!”
I blink at her in surprise, and I only have about five seconds to prepare myself before both girls come charging at me.
I don’t know why or how Evelyn came to her conclusion. It must be the dress I’m wearing, even though Gabriel has hacked most of the skirt away. Or maybe it’s the gl
oves and all the jewelry…
“I’m not a princess,” I say, taking a step back and holding my hands out as a shield in front of me.
The girls must not hear me because they both run up and wrap their arms around me. Pure happiness lights up their faces.
“I didn’t know you invited a princess over for dinner, Mommy!” Evelyn says excitedly.
Her friend, whom I’m assuming is Abigail, tips her head back and beams up at me as she hugs me tightly. “I’ve always wanted to meet a princess. Are you here to have tea?”
I shoot Lily a ‘help me’ look and try my best to gently pry the girls off me. Their little arms are like bands of steel though. For being so small, they are quite strong.
“I’m not a princess,” I helplessly repeat.
“Evelyn, Abigail, release Meghan at once,” Lily says firmly.
She has to say it three more times, her voice growing louder and louder over their happy squeals of “Princess Meghan,” before they finally decide to obey.
Reluctantly both girls release their grip, lips jutting out and arms falling to their sides.
“That is not how we treat our guests, girls. Tell your brother Adam you are to do twenty minutes of numbers with him,” Lily says to Evelyn, her voice stern and leaving no room for argument.
Evelyn’s little shoulders drop and tears shine in her eyes. “Yes, Mommy.”
“Next time,” Lily warns. “It will be thirty.”
Shoulders slumped, faces dejected, both girls shoot me a disappointed look as they begin to leave the kitchen, and I don’t know what the hell comes over me.
Maybe it’s because they were so excited over the prospect of me being a princess, or maybe it’s just their sad, adorable little faces, but I feel bad about the whole thing.
“If you’re good, I’ll have tea with you later,” I tell them, the words just slipping out of me.
Lily shoots me a look and I quickly realize I probably should have asked her permission first. But then her lips curve into a smile as both girls light up again and promise they’ll behave.
Once the girls are gone, in a flurry of giggles and excitement, I lean against the counter, feeling tired and drained.