Sin Worth the Penance

by M. J. Schiller

  I extended my arms and kicked at the lantern to try to get it in a position where I could see her. Mud coated her hair and was smeared on her shoulders…. I skimmed my fingers over her skin creating a streaky path as I brought it under her breast and squeezed it, flicking her nipple with my tongue and sucking for a second before kissing the top of it and sighing, bringing my cheek to rest against hers.

  “I love ya, Bridget.” I wanted to lift my head and say more, but she held it, wrapping both legs around mine and clinging to me. Something warm and liquid slid between us, and I pulled back. Falling to one side, I felt behind me until I caught the lantern’s handle. I brought it up by our faces. She was crying.

  My heart stung. “Did I hurt ya?”

  She took a breath. “I’m just emotional.”

  “Oh, now.” I cradled her into my chest. “Don’t cry.”

  After a moment, she shifted and slipped her arms about me, bringing her mouth to my ear. “I love you, too, Killian. More than ya know.”

  I closed my eyes and held her.

  As the seconds ticked away, I became more aware of how cold and wet I was and how blades of grass were stuck to me, in very odd places, making me itch.

  “Will ya come up with me?”

  I was afraid she would refuse, but she nodded.

  I helped her to her feet. The rain had slowed considerably. We gathered our things, then wrapped the blanket around us and walked to the pub.

  Chapter 16

  Bridey

  Making love to Killian was everything I dreamed it would be and more. He was strong, commanding, and even a wee bit reckless, but also tender and loving. I was fully invested in what we did, every part of me, down to the very essence of my being. I gave to him in a way I’d never done with another. The closest I came to it was when Tommy and I first started seeing each other. But even then, I always held a fraction of myself back, acutely aware a darkness lurked within him.

  Aye, my first time with Killian was beautiful, amazing in every way. It was killing me it was to be our last.

  “You hop in the shower. I’ll throw this stuff in the laundry—” He held the quilt and all of our muddy clothes he’d collected. “—so no one will be the wiser.” He threw me a wink.

  “All right.” I was halfway across the room when he called out my name, and I spun around.

  He slowly ran his gaze over my body. “You are a…remarkably stunning woman.” He ended his perusal by peering into my face. “And I’m a fortunate man to have ya in my life.”

  My heart was in my throat, and I couldn’t respond. How could the man heat my blood from half a room away?

  He smiled and dipped his head in the direction of the bathroom. “Now get in there, love, and get yourself warmed up.”

  He’d reached the steps when I found my voice. “Killian?”

  He looked at me.

  “Ya’ll join me in the shower, won’t ya?”

  He grinned. “If you’d like.”

  I stepped partially through the bathroom doorway but arched my back so my upper body stuck out. “Oh, I’d like.”

  He groaned before he trotted down the stairs. I giggled, examining myself in the mirror. Mud was caked in my hair and was streaked across my skin. “Stunning, my ass.” I was glowing, my heart soaring with love. But, as I stared at my reflection, the smile melted away. I squeezed my eyes shut, voices invading my mind.

  “I love ya, Bridget.”

  “We will break every one of your boyfriend’s bones in front of ya.”

  Even Mr. Hennehan’s voice chimed in. “Get out!”

  I’d cleaned out my savings account earlier and left twenty-four thousand dollars in an envelope on my kitchen table. I was shocked when I answered my phone later and heard his voice.

  “This isn’t even half.”

  I cowered in the hall between the kitchen and the bar.

  “It’s all I have. I’ll get ya more.”

  “I’m afraid this isn’t enough to keep Killian Murphey from being brained. Maybe enough to keep us from breaking both his legs. But definitely short of keeping his skull in one piece.”

  “No, wait! Please! I’ll do anything. Please.”

  “Tell us where Flatery is.”

  “At the bottom of Courtmacsherry Bay. Why won’t ya believe me?”

  The line went dead, and I stumbled into the kitchen bathroom, locked the door, and fell apart. While I was still in there, the phone rang again.

  “Since ya made an effort, we will give ya two more days.” They hung up.

  I shook and shook. I couldn’t stop shaking.

  And now the voices were taunting me again. I opened my eyes, grabbing onto the sides of the sink to steady myself. My chin quivered.

  “You are a…remarkably stunning woman. And I’m a fortunate man to have ya in my life.”

  Tears spilled over my lashes.

  “Well, well. Bridey. It’s Bridey, isn’t it? It’s been a while. Arm’s all better, I see. For now.”

  “Gimme the pipe.”

  “…break every one of your boyfriend’s bones….”

  “Clearly ya don’t give a fuck about your own personal safety. But what about that bartender boyfriend of yours, huh? Maybe we need to carve up pretty boy’s face. Maybe then ya’ll be more cooperative.”

  Their voices bounced hellishly about the room like they were coming from the walls themselves. I covered my ears and bit down on the urge to scream.

  Why? Why, when things were so good between us, did it have to end?

  Damn ya, Tommy Flatery. Even dead you’re a curse to me. Murdered and buried under water ya still manage to screw my life up.

  Killian’s feet sounded on the stairs, and I hurriedly switched the water on. If he saw me crying, I’d have to explain. I scrambled into the tub, knocking my shin on the lip. I lifted my face to the water as he knocked on the door. I took a few deep breaths.

  “Come in.”

  I couldn’t turn in his direction yet, or he’d know. I lowered my head and watched the mud swirl down the drain. He stepped in behind me and wrapped his hands around my arms, rubbing up and down. I leaned into him.

  He spoke into my ear. “Tired?”

  I nodded, relieved the water was masking my tears.

  “Let’s get ya cleaned up and into bed then.”

  I think I kind of blanked out for a while, but the next thing I knew, his soapy hands were sliding along my body. Over my chest and my hips, the fragrance of the bath wash a soothing combination of cedar and citrus, the latter awakening my senses as I breathed it in. I moaned, leaning more heavily into him. He grasped my ribcage, then his hands glided to just under my breasts. He inhaled, and his body grew rigid. Lowering his mouth to my shoulder, he kissed along my neck. I tipped my chin up to give him more access, his lips and tongue sending a shot of desire through my middle. He cupped my breasts briefly, then circled my chest, spreading the suds. I reached behind me and pushed my palms along his firm thighs, up to his tush, grabbing it and dragging him to me.

  I twisted to him and stretched to nibble at his bottom lip. Then it was all on. I pressed my body against his. He took a step so he could plant his hands on either side of me on the wall. I moved out of the stream of water, splitting my legs apart so the faucet went between my calves. He followed me so the water hit his face. He shook it off aggressively, leaning forward to cover my mouth with his, titillating me with his tongue as he gripped the back of my left thigh and lifted me. I hooked my leg around him, and he pressed against me and at the same time grabbed my right thigh, supporting me as I wrapped my other leg behind him. I locked my ankles together to stabilize myself better. We adjusted so he could enter me, and he began to rhythmically drive his hips. I flopped my arm against the wall above me, rocking my hips to time with his. He released my leg and circled my wrist with his fingers. I raised my other arm so he could capture both wrists, pinning them against the wall. He pulled away, watching my face as he moved inside me. I kept my gaze on him as he t
hrusted faster and we breathed harder. It was through too soon.

  After a few moments, when our breathing was returning to the level of a sprinters after crossing the finish line, he threw his head back and released me, pushing his hair away.

  “I’m sorry. Ya said you were tired.”

  I laughed. “Are ya kidding me?”

  He hugged me and took two steps, leading us into the stream of the water. I laid my chin on his shoulder and tightened my legs. I clung to him, smiling, my body warm and relaxed. Then the high of our lovemaking slipped away, like the water down the drain, and I was hit with the realization again that this was the end, before it had even really begun.

  “Let me get ya a towel.”

  He slid the shower curtain on the rod, leaning out to grab a towel off a bar. He spun, and set me carefully on my feet, giving me the towel and twisting to shut off the water. He snatched a towel for himself while I dried off, then he helped me over the side of the tub, onto the bathmat. He exited the tub, too.

  “Do ya need another towel for your hair?”

  Without waiting for an answer, he snagged another one. Letting his drop to the floor, he took the fresh towel and draped it around my head, pressing my hair between its layers and squeezing out the excess water. It was a simple gesture, but so sweet. Picking up a hand towel, I wiped a circle in the fog of the mirror to inspect my hair. He stepped behind me, put his arms around me and laid his face against mine, peering into our reflection. He looked so happy. It was like a stab in the heart, so sharp, it almost took my breath away.

  “You’re cold. I’ll go stoke the fire.” He kissed me, sending a wave of pain through me and I flinched.

  “What’s wrong? Did something happen to your cheek?”

  Frightened he’d pick up on the swelling from the blow I received at the mercantile, I quickly shielded it with my hand. “I-I have a toothache.”

  “Oh, poor thing. Here….” He opened a medicine cabinet and slipped out a bottle of pain killers. “Take these.”

  I smiled. “Thanks.”

  “I’ll get that fire going.”

  He left, and I lowered myself onto the lid of the toilet, covering my face.

  How will I ever find the strength to do this?

  Maybe I shouldn’t have come.

  But, no. I wouldn’t wish these moments with him away for anything.

  He rapped on the half-closed door, startling me.

  “Bridey? Are ya hungry, honey? I can go get ya something from the kitchen if ya’d like?”

  I choked back a sob. “No.” My voice sounded weird. I needed to do better if he was to believe nothing was wrong. I cleared my throat, and my words came out stronger. “No. I’m good. But go ahead if ya want. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  He didn’t move away at first, but after a moment, his footfalls led away from the door. I needed to calm down. I took three deep breaths, in and out, gave myself an internal pep talk, and plastered a smile on my face.

  When I came out, he was tapping the logs with an iron poker. “It’s not all that warm yet. You climb under the covers, and I’ll be there in a second.”

  I did what I was told. Tired, I sank into the pillow and pretended to be asleep when he came to bed. He crossed to the bed, but didn’t get in.

  What is he doing?

  A hand skimmed along my cheek and hair. “Goodnight, love,” he murmured. He must have crouched, because I heard the sounds of him rising. He switched off the light and walked around to slip in between the sheets on the other side of the bed. The heat of his body seduced me. I longed to roll over and cuddle next to him, but I was supposed to be asleep. I lost the internal battle after a moment and pretended to wake, taking a deep breath and rolling toward him. He lifted his arm automatically, and I raised my head, scootching closer and laying it on his chest. I reached to his opposite shoulder and my fingers drifted along his side, appreciating the definition of his muscles, and the breadth of his chest. He pressed his lips to my hair, keeping them there for a moment, then made some adjustments to make himself more comfortable. I played with the super soft hair on his chest. He sighed. I opened my eyes and glanced up, but his were closed and he was beginning to breathe rhythmically. I snuggled closer and let his breathing set the pace for mine.

  I woke in the same position.

  “Oh, hey. Did I wake ya? I’m sorry.”

  “No.” I rose on my elbow. “How long have ya been awake?”

  His fingers glided up and down my side in a soothing way. “Not long.”

  I didn’t believe him. “Hmm.” I glanced around the room. It was fairly light. “What time is it?” Catching sight of his alarm clock, I gasped. “Nine o’clock! Everyone will be up.”

  He drew me to him. “Relax. Saturday is the only morning Deir’ and Paddraig have to sleep in, as she’ll drag him to church on the morrow. They may pop into the kitchen to get something to eat, but they won’t move beyond that until at least ten. More like ten-thirty usually.”

  I laid my head on his chest, and he embraced me. “Ya feel good against me.”

  “Mmm,” I closed my eyes, making myself believe we could go on like this forever.

  “Do ya want me to fix you some breakfast?”

  “Oh, no. Ya don’t have to do that.”

  He kissed my hair and carefully slid out from under me. “I want to. You relax and catch a few more minutes sleep, and I’ll bring it up here when it’s finished.” I watched him pull on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. He gave my hand a squeeze before standing. “I’ll be right back.”

  My gaze lingered on him as he crossed the room. When he hit the stairwell, panic surged inside. I bolted upright. “Killian?” My voice betrayed my distress.

  He studied me, his brow furrowed. “Is something wrong?”

  “No. No. I just—” I swallowed and fought off tears, trying to look anywhere but at him. “I love ya is all.”

  He frowned, then strode to the bed. I fell against the pillows and turned toward him on my side. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he put a hand lightly on my arm, watching my face. “Are ya sure something’s not bothering ya?”

  I reached down deep inside for strength and forced a smile. “No. Nothing’s bothering me. Just hurry back.”

  He bent and gave me a quick kiss. “You’ve got it.”

  When the door creaked open at the bottom, I swung out of bed and rummaged around for clothes.

  Chapter 17

  Killian

  If I knew how to make one dish well, it was a breakfast skillet, American style, except, the ingredients were slightly different in Ireland. The sausage, the cheese, even the milk had a slightly different flavor. But the potatoes, peppers, and onions were the same, and they made the meal. The scent of the steam rising from the plates as I climbed the stairs to my room was making me ravenous. That, along with, perhaps, our extracurricular activities of the night before. Bridey’s passion was a match for my own, and I could tell the bedroom was going to become one of our favorite places to be. The bed was empty when I reached the top, so I set the tray with our plates on it there temporarily to clear off the little table in the corner that had a lot of my books and a rake of other junk on it. I set the plates, glasses of juice, napkins, and cutlery down and made certain it was just so. Since she still hadn’t emerged from the bathroom, I went to rap on the door.

  “Bridey? The food’s ready whenever you are.” I listened but got no response. I grasped the doorknob and opened the door a few inches wider. “Bridey?” Not hearing anything, I opened the door all the way. The room was empty.

  “Huh?” Did she go downstairs? She knew I was bringing food up. I sat in one of the chairs at the table, planting my elbows on it and steepling my fingers, my legs stretched out in front of me. I tapped my fingers against each other and waited. After a space, I rose to look out the window.

  The food’s getting cold.

  I decided to search downstairs for her. Not finding her, I got a weird feeling. Why would she leave wi
thout saying goodbye, knowing I was fixing breakfast for her? I checked the washing machine. Her clothes were still there. I threw everything into the drier. I stood for a moment, rubbing my chin.

  Odd.

  I slowly walked out, searching all of the places I’d already searched before. Tag had just entered the dish room and still had his coat on.

  “Hey.”

  Tag grunted. “Mornin’.” He worked his arms out of his jacket.

  “Ya haven’t seen Bridey, have ya?”

  “Aye.” He put his belongings on a hook and grabbed an apron. “She was running down the alley with a big T-shirt on. Big enough to cover her shorts.” He worked at tying his strings behind his back. “I think it was one of your shirts.” His face lit up, and he grinned. “Hey. Did she spend the night with ya?”

  I smiled. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

  “Ahh.” He pointed at me. “She did, didn’t she?”

  I frowned. “Which way was she headed? Toward her place?”