by Sophia Gray
Fat chance, I thought, but I was hopeful just the same. I already knew I was going to die, what did I have to lose?
For a long, drawn out moment, he was silent. I thought he wasn’t going to answer me after a while and that he just didn’t give a damn if I wet myself, when he finally moved. His eyes darted over to me and he pursed his lips together tightly. He made a grunting, unhappy noise in his throat, then said, “Can’t you hold it?”
Score! I thought triumphantly, and had to fight back a smile.
I shook my head and tried to look pathetic. Which wasn’t as difficult as it should have been. I even tried to squirm a little to show that I really needed to go.
Bryce still looked uncertain, but after a moment, he let out another groan. “Seriously? This is just my luck. I hate babysitting jobs!”
I did my best not to take offence at the babysitting crack. It helped when I saw him reluctantly begin to move towards me. Oh my God, this is actually going to work! I thought, both shocked and thrilled. Maybe I would actually save myself!
Bryce took his sweet time getting over to me, as though he were debating each and every step, but eventually he stopped right in front of me. He looked down at me warily, then glanced behind him at the door again. He sighed, then looked back to me. “You’re sure it can’t wait?”
I shook my head emphatically. “Please.”
With another sigh, he crouched down in front of me and began undoing the bindings around my hand. “I don’t want any trouble, you understand?” I nodded silently as he continued to work. He glanced up at me as he finished undoing the knot around my left hand. “I’m serious. Shane wants you alive for now, but if I tell him I had to choose between killing you and letting you escape, I’m sure he’ll see it my way, understand?”
I swallowed hard, but nodded again.
He moved on to the other hand and I felt a surge of adrenaline race through me. This was it. My chance. He’d untie me and then I could—
“What the fuck are you doing, Bryce?”
A cold washed through me at the sound of that voice. I recognized it. It belonged to the man from earlier. John.
Bryce jerked back from me, straightening up. He’d barely even loosened my right hand, but my left was still free. I debated undoing my right arm myself, but didn’t dare move.
Not with that asshole now in the room.
“She needs to use the damn bathroom, man,” Bryce explained, sounding both whiny and a little apologetic. Like maybe he was being caught red handed.
“And you were just going to untie her?” John demanded angrily, his eyes darting to me and back to Bryce. He stalked into the room and I flinched. I really didn’t want him anywhere near me. Bryce opened his mouth to say something, but John cut him off. “You don’t think maybe that’s just a trick? That maybe she was trying to get you to untie the stupid bitch?”
Bryce looked uncomfortable, then groaned. “Damnit, you think so?”
John rolled his eyes. “Jesus, what were you born yesterday? Of course that was what she was doing!”
Sighing, Bryce scratched his head. “Yeah, probably right. Don’t tell Shane about this?”
John hesitated looking like he would just love to tell Shane about this, but then he got a cold gleam in his eye that I definitely didn’t like. He smiled at Bryce. “Oh, sure, buddy. I’ll keep your secret. But you’ve gotta keep one for me, too.”
Bryce frowned. “What secret?”
“That I was here.” His eyes flickered to me and I saw the hunger there. And it wasn’t a hunger I really wanted to think about. I tried not to tremble, but fear grabbed hold of me. “And leave me alone with her for a minute.”
Bryce looked uncomfortable for a moment and I thought maybe he would tell John to back off, but then I remembered I was a hostage, Bryce didn’t know me, and John was his friend. Or coworker. Or whatever. My heart fell when I heard him say, “Yeah, all right. I want out of here for a minute anyway.”
When Bryce left, I felt hope leave with him. I didn’t have any particular attachment to him, but I knew instinctively that he was safer than John. The door shut behind him and I was left alone with this animal.
“Just you and me, honey,” John told me, moving closer.
I gripped the armrests of the chair, wishing there was something I could do. But I was trapped, and no one was going to save me.
“Now, where were we?”
John reached for me. His left hand found my thigh and started to jerk my dress up high so he could reach beneath it. I tried to squirm away from him, but I couldn’t go anywhere. When his face leaned close to mine, his right hand moving to cup my breast, I tried to scream. His mouth covered mine, however, and swallowed the sound. I tasted the tobacco on his tongue and wished I could gag. I realized my left hand was still free and I reached up, slapping and punching at him as best I could. It was enough to get him to break the awful kiss and laugh at me.
“Oh, feeling feisty, are we?” he mocked. He removed his hand from my breast and grabbed my wrist to keep me from hitting him again. He slammed it down painfully on the armrest and leaned in again to kiss me. I felt his hand crawl up my leg, finding bare flesh.
I tried to scream again and this time when he kissed me to cover it up, I bit his tongue. I could taste blood.
Jerking back from me, he roared in pain and anger. “You stupid bitch!” he screamed. He jerked his hands off of me, then spit blood onto the carpet. His eyes flashed with rage. He reached behind him. A second later he pulled out a pistol.
I screamed. I screamed as loud and as hard as I could, tears in my eyes, fear in my heart. I knew that I was going to die. My only hope was that I would do so before he got the chance to have his way with me.
“Shut up!” he yelled, and pulled the gun around, smacking it hard across my cheek.
My vision blurred as pain swelled in my face.
“I’ll teach you a lesson!”
I turned just in time to see John coming towards me again. But before he followed through on his threat, Bryce burst through the door again. “Shit, John, we gotta go!”
John jerked around to face him. “The fuck are you talking about?”
“It’s Shane! He’s fucking dead! And the cops are coming.” Bryce didn’t stay to explain anything further. He just raced off, disappearing out the door once again.
John glanced back at me, looking as though he wanted to stay and finish what he’d started. But then the sirens actually started flashing in the widows and the sounds reached our ears. I saw panic flash in his eyes. He dropped the gun, panicked, and ran as quickly as he could.
I sat there, shaking, hurt, terrified, but oh so relieved. The police were here. I was okay. I would be okay. I let out a sob of relief, but it was short lived. The door slammed open once again, causing me to jerk my gaze up again. I was sure it was John having decided to come back for me, but when I looked to the door, I froze.
It wasn’t John.
It was Ciaran. He’d come to save me.
Cursing, he raced across the room to me. He knelt down in front of me, undoing what remained of my bindings. His eyes swept across me, searching every inch of me, lingering on my face, where I was sure I was quickly forming an ugly looking bruise. “Are you okay?” he asked me, his voice sounding strained. “I heard you scream.”
I tried to answer him, but only a sob came out. He finished undoing my bindings and I threw myself at him. My arms wrapped around his neck, clinging to him. I was safe. He was here. Everything was going to be okay.
For a second, he seemed frozen, but then his arms came around me and he held me back. I didn’t know how long we stayed like that, but eventually he pulled away a little. Just enough to help me stand. I clutched at him before he could pull away any farther, though.
“What…what are you doing here?” I managed to get out.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked me, brushing the backs of his fingers against my bruised cheek carefully.
I shook my head. It mo
st definitely was not obvious, but I didn’t say that. Instead, I asked, “What happened?”
“It’s a long story, but the basics of it are that Shane is dead and the Irish Hounds are under arrest for murder.”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “But what about the dirty cops?”
He shook his head. “I had some of my guys sniff ’em out. They’re being questioned right now. As for the Hounds, I had my guys show the police what they did, how they murdered my men. They’re going to go away for a long time. And with no Shane, the ones who aren’t put away will have a hell of a time surviving out here on the streets.”
I stared at him. I was incredibly relieved to hear about them being arrested and Shane being dead and the dirty cops found out. But if I were being really honest, in that moment, I didn’t really care. All I cared about was that I was standing here with Ciaran, his arms still lingering around me, and I was alive. I would survive tonight, and so would he.
“Thank you for saving me,” I murmured. “I…I really thought I was going to die tonight.”
His whole body tensed at my words and he pulled me closer. “I wouldn’t have let that happen.”
I smiled at him, tears forming in my eyes. He was such a good guy. Determined to save me, to protect me even though he didn’t feel the way I felt about him. Biting my lip, I debated not saying anything more, but I knew I had to. After almost dying, I had to tell him one more time that I loved him, even if he couldn’t say it back.
“Ciaran, I…” I faltered. It hurt to say this to someone who wouldn’t feel the same.
“What is it? Are you hurt?” He sounded so concerned.
I smiled at him sadly. Yes, I was, but not the way he meant. “No, I just…I just wanted to tell you that you’re a good man. I know you don’t think so sometimes, but I do. I can feel it in my heart. And I want you to know that I don’t care if you’ll never love me back. I will always love you anyway. I just wanted you to know—”
He closed the space between us, his hands cupping my face, then he drew me to him. His lips crashed against mine in a searing kiss that left no room for argument: he wanted me. His tongue found its way into my mouth and his lips pressed tightly to me, wanting and needing more. By the time he pulled away, my breath was gone and my heart was going a mile a minute.
Breathing heavily himself, he said to me, “I love you, too, Elle. I should have told you the first day I saw you. I knew you were an angel and you’re way too good for me, but damn it all if I don’t want to be selfish and have you anyway.”
“You…you love me?” I couldn’t believe it. Was I hearing him right?
He nodded his head. “Yes, I do. And I’m not letting you go again.”
He kissed me once more and I melted against him. For the first time in a while, I thought maybe everything was going to be all right.
Epilogue
Ciaran
I sat at a table reserved for me. I had a cold beer in one hand, already about halfway finished. The bar was nice, nicer than most I’d spent any amount of time in, and I appreciated the soft lighting and the general ambiance. It had one of those cozy lounge feelings to it and I liked that. It spoke to me of class, though maybe I’d just seen too many old movies with girls in red dresses lounging across pianos as they sang.
There was actually a piano on the stage in front of me, but the spotlight wasn’t focused on it or the man playing at it. No, the spotlight was centered on the beautiful, alluring brunette singing her heart out on stage—and all eyes were following that spotlight.
Elle looked beautiful. She was wearing a midnight blue dress that clung to her curves and tapered down her legs to stop just below her knees. She’d spent days trying to find the right dress, complaining of fit and coloring and everything under the sun. But I hadn’t minded. I knew it was just nerves, and I also knew it wouldn’t matter what she ultimately picked in the end. She would be killer on stage.
I was right. She sung a sweet, soft song that dipped into my rib cage and wrapped itself around my heart. It was a love song and it was my favorite of hers. She’d written it only days after her ordeal with Shane, a means of getting out what fear and tension had remained in her bones after that horrible night. The song had helped, and when I asked her what it was really about, she said it was about loving me.
How could I not love it after that?
Her voice filtered through the room, softening the light further and lulling her audience into a sense of romance and peace. My chest swelled with love and pride at knowing that was my girl up there. And hopefully tonight, I could make it official.
I fingered the little velvet box in my pocket. I’d gone to a thousand different shops looking for the right damn ring and ultimately I hadn’t even bought any of them. None of them seemed right for the woman of my dreams. When I finally did find the right ring, I’d almost laughed at myself.
I’d been cleaning out the bar and the apartment above it. After Ma’s death, I couldn’t bear to live in the old place anymore, though I’d inherited it and everything else from her. I’d spoken with Elle about it, wondering if it would be wrong to sell it, or if I should just suck it up and move into the damn place.
As always, she’d been sympathetic and wise at the same time.
She’d smiled at me and slipped her arm around my shoulders for a half hug. Then she’d told me honestly, “Your mother wanted you to have this. Not because it meant the world to her, but because you meant the world to her. She wanted to give you all she had, but it’s up to you what to do with it. She doesn’t live in this place anymore, Ciaran. She lives in here.” And she’d tapped my chest over where my heart beat soundly, reminding me my mother would be with me no matter what I did with the old place.
After that talk, I’d decided I would keep it, but we wouldn’t live there. I found a good manager—Kelly, Patrick’s cousin—and told her she could live in the apartment above the bar for free so long as she took care of the place. I checked in once a week.
Before she moved in, I’d insisted on cleaning the place out to make sure it was in good shape and that I didn’t leave anything valuable behind.
It was when I was cleaning out Ma’s closet that I found an old shoebox full of precious memories. For a moment, it almost felt wrong to be looking through these mementos that had once been so important to a woman who no longer existed, but remembering she was my mother and she would have wanted me to know her life, I began to sift through her things.
Inside the box was a stack of old photographs. They were of her and Pa when they were young, looking lively and like something out of an old time newspaper. They could have been Bonnie and Clyde. The thought made me chuckle.
The pictures were mostly the same over and over again. Pa with his arms around her. Them kissing sweetly. Laughing. Kidding. Smiling. The love in those pictures was palpable and undeniable. I saw their first house, their first car, their wedding. I saw a picture of them in front of the bar with a sign in the background that read Closed. Their entire life seemed wrapped up in these pictures. I even found a few of myself in there and one of me and Shane when we’d first come to live with the Sullivans.
It hurt in unexpected ways, but I kept the picture. He’d ended up the wrong kind of man and he’d died that night, bleeding out in the snow before the police arrived, but in the beginning we had truly been brothers.
As I continued to sift through her cherished things, I came across more than pictures. An old lacy glove that looked like the one she wore in the picture of their wedding. A bow tie that must have belonged to Pa. A charm bracelet with a shamrock and a cross on it. And finally, I came across a box.
A black velvet box.
I opened it up and was surprised to find a curled up note fall out of it. It was in Ma’s handwriting.
Ciaran,
Before you ask, of course this letter’s for you. I knew you’d be the one to find it, just like I knew you’d be the one to need it. I married your father fifty years ago and I never reg
retted it for a minute. He swept me off my feet—and drove me crazy. But there was never a doubt in my mind how much I loved him.
The day he proposed to me, he offered me a ring. He said that the hands were for friendship, the crown for loyalty. The ring was for forever and the heart was for love. I didn’t take that ring off again until the day he died.
It hurts to lose the other half to your soul, but I know I’ll see him again. When I do, I won’t be needing this ring. But someday you will.