Walk away without looking back.
I swallowed thickly and started to step away from him, but at the last second rocked forward and hurried toward him. “Take me with you.”
A look of horror flashed across his face so fast I almost missed it before his cold, emotionless mask could replace it. “No.”
“Please,” I said soft enough that Beck wouldn’t hear me, and hated how weak it made me sound. I glanced quickly at Beck, then looked back to Kieran as I continued toward him. “It doesn’t have to be forever. All I’m asking is for you to take me to Texas with you.”
“No—”
“I can keep myself safe. You can lock me in a hotel room if it’ll ma—”
“I said no, Lily,” he snapped, his booming voice echoing off the walls in the house.
I jolted back, stumbling over myself to get away from him when he suddenly stalked toward me.
One of his arms shot out to block Beck from coming between us, but his stare never left me as his large hands grasped my shoulders and pulled me close.
Everything about him was magnificent and terrifying. The strength in his body and his grasp. The chilling combination of love and promised death that poured from him as he looked down at me, that beast inside him crying to be freed. And yet, all I wanted was to stay in this moment for an eternity. It didn’t matter what led to us being in this position, I’d never been in his arms this way . . .
I’d been waiting for this—begging for this—for as long as I could remember.
Kieran’s entire body was vibrating and his eyes were on fire, but his voice was hushed and pained when he asked, “Why do you keep fighting me when all I want is to keep you safe? Can’t you see what you mean to me?” His eyes bored into mine, desperate and begging for me to understand. “I won’t let a Borello within seeing distance of you. Now try to imagine the kind of men our contact in Texas and his associates are if I’d never let you in the same state as them. These men steal women. They buy multiple stolen women and keep them. If you were there, even hidden away, I would be too dis—”
“What?” I asked under my breath, jerking in his hold. “They what?”
There was no response, but I didn’t need one. Kieran’s expression told me more than I wanted to know.
An image of a woman, kicking and screaming as she was hauled into a van flashed through my mind. And then the image morphed to the woman standing in front of a room full of perverted men, leering at her as she shook and cried for someone to save her.
I felt sick.
“And you knew? They do this and you knew when you started working with them?” The bliss of being in his arms had vanished, and suddenly I wanted nothing more than to get away from him. I tried to pull from Kieran’s grasp but he pulled me closer.
“You don’t understand.”
“Don’t tell me I don’t understand, Kieran. There’s nothing to understand,” I said with an incredulous laugh.
“Lily . . .”
“How could you let that continue?”
“I tried to sever the ties with Texas. I’ve tried dozens of times,” he said in a rough tone.
“Oh, have you?” Disbelief dripped from my words.
His jaw ticked, but he didn’t respond as that beast inside him fought to be unleashed.
“You just met with my dad . . . so, on his orders you’re now going to Texas to silence this guy if he isn’t already dead. Right?” I asked, but didn’t wait for his response. “And all because he didn’t accept a shipment and has been missing for a week.”
Kieran blew out a harsh breath through his nose, his mouth forming a tight line.
“Whoever this contact and his associates are, you know who they are, and you know what they do. You’ve known.” Leaning closer, I whispered, “You’re an assassin, Kieran. If you’d ever really tried, he would’ve been silenced years ago. They all would’ve.”
His mouth twitched into a frustrated grin that bordered on a grimace as he released me, one of his hands moving to rub at his jaw. He started to take a step away, but stopped. “I had an important job here.” His questioning stare quickly ran over my body before meeting mine. “At least I thought I did.”
That same crushing pain from earlier came on so strong and fast, it nearly knocked me back.
I couldn’t take in a deep enough breath, and I couldn’t speak as he turned and left.
That force between us set into a thick, reinforced wall as I watched him go. As I understood exactly what he’d given us up for.
The mob would’ve been bad enough. But Texas? Knowing about it and allowing it to continue when he could’ve put an end to it?
It was unforgivable.
There was no saving us. Not anymore. Not from the resentment that now burned deep within me.
I flicked my gaze to Beck when I turned to go back to my room, but he was staring at a spot on the floor and didn’t bother with any excuses as I went.
Nearly an hour later, Beck came into the room with a tentative knock, his face wary as he looked at where I sat on the window seat, staring out at the property, seeing nothing.
Holding up a bag, he attempted a grin. “Conor brought these a while ago, but I wasn’t sure if you were ready to see me.”
“You knew.”
“About Texas?” he asked, then dipped his head in confirmation. “Yeah, Lil. I knew.”
“Does everyone?”
“No. Your dad’s advisor is the only other person who knows.”
I nodded for a few seconds then shook my head. “If it’s been going on so long, why is Mickey keeping it a secret? Why have the two of you been keeping it from me?”
Beck seemed to search for the right words for a while before he huffed and walked deeper into the room to sit on the bed. “I think you already know why, Lil. Mickey can shut a lot of people up about his business, and the guys in Texas can too. But the more people who know, the more risks they all take, so it’s not good to go around letting words fly about other people’s business. And for Mickey . . . this is big money. This is cocaine for the entire southern part of Texas. He doesn’t want to fuck it up.”
That sounded mostly right. Mickey liked to have control of people and places, and liked to make sure money was constantly flowing in.
But Mickey wasn’t humble about anything in his life. He didn’t know how to remain tightlipped about money and power. Especially about jobs as big as this.
I waited for more, but when there was none I asked, “And you?”
He let out a slow breath, his eyes finally meeting mine. “Because it’s a burden knowing what we do.”
“It doesn’t have to be. It could’ve been ended years ago.” A hard laugh forced from my chest. “Kieran could’ve ended it years ago.”
Instead of arguing, Beck just sat there for a while staring blankly ahead. Finally, he lifted his shoulders in a brief shrug. “Maybe there’s a lot more going on than you realize. Maybe there’re things involved that Kieran’s trying to protect you from, and he can’t protect you if he kills dozens of men in Texas.”
“Then he should tell me what’s happening. He should’ve told me all of it when he found out.” I gestured out the window like he’d be standing there then pressed my hand to my chest. “He used to tell me everything, Beck.”
“You used to tell him everything too,” he countered gently, the slight challenge in his tone emphasized with a lift of a brow. “But you don’t tell him about whatever has you waking up some nights, screaming. You don’t tell him about the shit the men say to you when they see you.”
Beck’s grin when Kieran entered the meeting that afternoon flashed through my mind. My eyes widened as suspicion hit me swift and deep.
“You told Kieran about Bailey, didn’t you?”
His mouth twisted into a wry smirk before falling. “Someone had to.”
“You didn’t . . .” My stomach twisted at the thought of what Kieran might have done after the meeting. “Beck, I told you to stay out of it.”
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“Lil, something had to be done. You’re not standing up for yourself, and you won’t let us. Kieran had to get the guys in line.”
“Not by hurting or killing them.”
Beck rolled his eyes. “He didn’t, I was there the whole time. Kieran knows things that Bailey doesn’t want getting out. That was enough to make Bailey nearly piss himself and swear to never look in your direction again.”
As much as I couldn’t stand Bailey or his son, I was glad that for once, Kieran had kept the beast in check. The men already knew what he could do—knew how lethal he was. He didn’t need to make enemies within Holloway by killing off members because they’d said something to me.
“But like I was saying, you’re keeping things from him. I don’t know why, but I know you have your reasons, Lil. Maybe try to understand that he has his reasons for doing things.”
I steeled myself, gritting my teeth against the resentment I felt. “Women are being kidnapped and sold, Beck. There’s no excuse for what’s going on in Texas, or that Kieran hasn’t put an end to it.”
Beck suddenly went still, his expression solemn. “Sometimes we have to do what we don’t want to,” he said softly. “And sometimes we hurt people because of it. I’ve been selling on the streets for your dad for as long as I can remember. With every year that passed, I hoped he’d put me somewhere else—doing anything else—because I hated selling. I destroyed the only girl I think I ever really loved because of it, and I continue to on a daily basis. I watched her transform into a shattered shell of herself, selling herself just so she could pay me because her mom keeps herself pumped full of our supply. And she fucking hates me for it.”
“Beck . . .”
I’d heard about her, the girl he used to love. He’d talked about her often before he’d stopped talking about her at all. I’d thought she’d died. To Beck, she had. He’d wanted to take care of her forever, and to spite him for continuing to control and ruin her mom’s life, she’d started selling herself.
It had nearly destroyed Beck.
“I didn’t put an end to it, Lil. I could’ve, but I didn’t because I knew if her mom didn’t come to me, she’d go to another dealer. One who would take advantage of both of them like her previous ones had . . . and I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself.”
He shifted uncomfortably on the bed, his eyebrows drawn tight as he thought about what could’ve been.
He looked so exposed. So completely unlike the broad-chested, thick-necked drug dealer who’d been my best friend for so long.
“And now? I’m who Kieran trusts most, which means Mickey trusts me. So now I know all this shit I wish I’d never heard about. Wish I’d never seen. But there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. All I’d wanted was to stop dealing on the streets, but now I’d give anything to only be dealing on the streets. For my only job to be out there every single night so I can check on the girl I destroyed by saving her. You understand?”
I could, but only because I’d been raised in this life.
But I wasn’t sure Beck could understand me. Wasn’t sure he could understand the girl he’d destroyed or the women being sold in Texas.
“Kieran might know about things you don’t, and, yeah, he might not be putting an end to it. But there might be bigger things at work. If you fight him—if you fight what the two of you have and the way he’s trying to protect you—it’s going to destroy you.”
He stood to leave and had just gotten to the door when I called out his name.
“Knowing what you know now—seeing what she’s become,” I added, hinting at the girl he’d loved, “would you still do it all over again? Or would you try to find a different way to put an end to it?”
“There was only one way to end—”
“There’s always another way.”
He swallowed thickly and gave me a sad smile, his eyes dulling with torment. “I told you, Lil . . . it’s a burden. This whole life is.”
It never stopped being disorienting—glancing in a mirror, expecting to see the same person you saw every single day . . . and seeing someone different. My reflection was as strange to me as my relationship with Kieran had become, even though I’d been catching glimpses of this stranger in mirrors for nearly two years now.
My ice-blue eyes were what people noticed first, and were a dead giveaway to anyone who knew Mickey or had known me. To pass as anyone other than Lily O’Sullivan, I hid them by drawing attention to them.
Hidden behind non-prescription thick-framed glasses and hazel-colored contacts, my normally bare eyes were now accentuated with shadow and liner, my lashes dark and full. My blonde hair that usually sat high up on my head in a messy knot was falling to my waist in waves.
In just over half an hour, I was a different person. One who would be gone with some makeup remover.
I’d only glanced in the mirror long enough this morning to acknowledge the stranger looking back at me before I’d ducked my head, grabbed my old purse filled with some cash, as well as everything required to create and erase the stranger in the mirror, and hurried out the bathroom window since it faced away from the main house and Soldier’s Row.
I hadn’t lingered.
I never did.
And I’d left Holloway property . . . as I did every Monday morning.
Now as I sat in a café booth downtown, a twenty-minute walk from Holloway, I found it hard to look away from the stranger staring back at me in the wall of mirrors off to the side.
The makeup alone was a big enough change since I never wore any . . . but the eyes and the glasses. The length of my hair. All of it combined was fascinating and horrifying to look at.
Whether ordering it under Beck’s name and card or having Conor buy it one item at a time . . . I’d spent the better part of six months stashing money and gathering everything I would need to slightly change my appearance for when Kieran and I ran from Holloway and North Carolina.
But when that dream had become nothing more than shattered promises, everything had remained untouched until two years ago when someone came looking for me . . .
And then I’d been thanking God for the plans that had led to what was hidden away in the crawl space in our closet, because it’d created this familiar stranger who found herself in this same diner every Monday morning.
Kieran may have decided he wanted us to stay here. That didn’t mean I didn’t plan to leave.
In order to continue on with my life and to prepare for a future with or without him, I had to leave the property.
So I did . . . I do.
There’s something thrilling in sneaking away unnoticed from a property filled with mob members, many who are sworn to keep me hidden from the outside world.
Something exhilarating in breathing air that doesn’t feel tainted with every bad memory from my life.
Something addictive in possibly putting myself in proximity with my biggest nightmares, and hoping I’ll be as invisible to them as they’ve always been to me.
The first time hadn’t felt nearly as gratifying as I’d thought it would. In fact, it’d been terrifying. I’d been so sure the moment I set foot on the road outside the main house that a Borello would be waiting for me. Or at any moment, Beck would wake up and realize I wasn’t there.
That fear hadn’t vanished over the last two years, but it had lessened . . . morphed into excitement thrumming in my veins each time I slipped out of the house and crawled back in without alerting anyone.
Sneaking out at night would’ve been easier since Conor guarded the outside of the house and rarely came in, but Kieran was too unpredictable. He knew the dark made it easier for people to move around undetected, which was why he tried so hard to get home at night. He needed to assure himself I was still alive and safely hidden away.
Save Lily. Protect Lily. Hide Lily. Cage Lily.
That never-ending, maddening cycle.
Even though Beck was inside the house with me during the day—unless he was sent somewhere�
�he typically slept until noon. That came with the territory of selling on the streets until early hours of the morning. Therefore, mornings were my chance to leave.
Most importantly . . . the person I left Holloway to see only had a small window of time each week to meet up with a girl who was supposed to be dead. And Brooks Street Café in Wake Forest was where we met without fail.
I looked around expectantly for her, then realized a few moments later that my gaze had left the front door and was slowly working across the diner, lingering on the places I usually saw him . . .
My heart betrayed me by increasing in speed at just the thought of him.
His knowing eyes and unrestrained smile.
The way he seemed to demand attention so casually . . . just as he had demanded mine for two years, even spilling over into dreams.
The current of energy that hugged my skin whenever he was near, a feeling so intoxicating and foreign . . . and, yet, there was a hint of familiarity. So much so I had to restrain myself from closing the distance between us to see if it grew. And I couldn’t help but wonder if I knew him, because that buzz had remained constant over the years rather than fading.
He looked at me as if he could see straight through to my heart, and see every hope and fear that lie there. He seemed to understand me even though we’d never spoken a word to each other. And this connection . . . it felt as if my soul was screaming—begging—for me to recognize its mate was within reach, and I was keeping myself from him.
But soulmates . . . they couldn’t be real.
And though his written words were exhilarating and I was dreading when they would end, I spent so much of my time consumed with guilt for being intrigued by someone who wasn’t Kieran.
“My future ex-wife has returned.”
I jolted, pulled away from my musing by the booming voice.
“God, Ethan.” I huffed, a breath of a laugh tumbling from my lips as I finally regained some of my composure. “You scared me.”
Ethan gave me a wounded look and sighed exaggeratedly. “How could I scare you? I am your love. You are mine.”
Firefly (Redemption Book 2) Page 5