Truth & Consequences (Boston Latte Book 2)

by Fiona Keane

  Before the explosion tore us apart and threw me against the wall, Julian was at the door. He held it, asked me what I wanted, what I desired, and in that moment, all I wanted was to know he was alive.

  “Lady! Hey, lady!”

  I spun around wearily, greeted by a patron of the theatre, his tuxedo giving away his plans for the evening. “Wh…”

  “You need to come with me.” Another man approached from behind Tuxedo Man. “Miss Leary. Now.” Where is Julian?

  “The police are on their way,” Tuxedo Man informed us. “Do you need an ambulance?” I shook my head, still tightly holding myself together.

  “My b-boyfriend,” I uttered, glancing between them. “I can’t find him.”

  Two hands grabbed my hips and spun me around with such force that all air left my lungs. The right side of his face was spattered with blood, staining the top of his white shirt.

  “Babby,” he choked. “We need to go. Right now.” His fingertips pierced my flesh through the remaining layers of dress and coat, locking us together. “Right fucking now,” he snarled, kneeling beneath my waist to grab my legs and lift me over his shoulder.

  Julian jogged along the sidewalk carrying me as we fled the explosion. I refused to fight and dangled limply over his shoulder, filled with incapacitated lethargy. His footsteps slowed as his breath choked, my weight too much for his pace after what just happened. Once we turned a corner into an alley, his hold wrapped around my back, securing me as his hands glided along my body while he lowered me to my feet.

  “What just happened?” I demanded, unshed tears filling my eyes while I studied his battered face. Julian’s right hand lifted to rub the back of his neck while his left hand adhered to his hip. He began to pace, stepping toward a bright green dumpster and aggressively kicking it six times. The harsh echo of striking metal resounded throughout the alley, and I flinched with each kick. I was mystified with Julian’s aggressive tantrum. His terror began to thaw, his hands clenching his thighs as he bent to catch his breath. Finding restraint, Julian approached me once more, the blood on his face hardened into a crisp sheath.

  “It tore me from the door. I landed against the wall. I’m okay.” His palms cupped my cheeks. “Are you hurt? Is your head okay?”

  “What happened?”

  “Car bomb,” he muttered, as though the terminology was natural, a typical method of assaulting the relatives of politicians. “Vincent’s gone. We need to get out of here before the police come. Please just trust me. No questions, no arguing, just come with me.” I complied, not wishing to spend another second in an alley that smelled like frozen rubbish, and accepted his hand. He pulled his cellphone from his pants pocket, his thumb quickly typing along the screen.

  “Where are we going?”

  He barely acknowledged me, his words concise and effective. “Home.”

  I expected a normal person to vomit, tremble like a weathered tree, or at least demonstrate a minor physical response to having been involved in an explosion. I assumed shrapnel would painfully protrude from his body, but surely based upon Julian’s smooth, methodical response to the fact we almost died, he proved to be anything but normal. Yet I wasn’t one to cower in the corner covered in vomit either. Julian squeezed my hand, his fingers again twisting the sapphire ring around my finger, his touch taking away my normal, removing the small pieces of the farce of my existence and filling it with his own.

  My gaze trailed along his sleeve, examining the length of his coat, down his leg to his shoes. They were no longer shiny and unflawed, but scuffed, yet still somehow perfect. My toes began to lose circulation beneath the stiffly frozen patent leather.

  “You’re not lying about your head?”

  “No.” I touched my scalp, patting along my long hair, realizing that despite landing against a wall, my head was calm. Julian’s top lip pierced between his sparkling teeth with a curt nod before he gracefully pulled me along.

  “Mr. Molloy!” A familiar sound broke as we turned the corner. “Oh! You found her.”

  “You’re absolutely correct I found her,” Julian snarled, his grasp leaving my hand and winding around my waist, securing me to him. “I don’t know what my family pays you for if you can’t predict and prevent this sort of attempt on our lives, Ferrell! Honestly. Yes, I found Miss Leary. It’s my job to keep her safe because, apparently, you and your partner simply cannot do it!”

  My brows met, fearing Ferrell’s heated gaze, when the man from moments prior approached us, his breath panting. I recognized his hair, slicked back along his scalp, the only detail I remembered from him interrupting Tuxedo Man’s attempt to help me. And he knew my name.

  “You’re fired,” Julian bellowed at the man, his tone startling me. “Both of you. Get the hell out of here before I request a favor that entails more damage than simply ending your employment. Now!”

  Mr. Ferrell, his face contorted in disbelief, glanced at his partner, the man scratching his slick hair. Julian wasted no time before he increased our pace, almost jogging our feet down the sidewalk and away from the theatre.

  “Stop,” I urged, unable to walk at his speed. “Please.”

  “No!”

  I slammed on my brakes, sending Julian tumbling ahead of me. “Yes!”

  As he spun back toward me, his eyes narrowed with rage, I noticed his left hand crossing his abdomen, clutching the side of his sculpted body.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I inquired, tentatively inching closer, frightened by the wild glow emitted from his darkening eyes.

  “I’m distraught over the fact that in a twelve-hour period, David abandons you on the street, Vincent gets blown to bits while you’re standing at the damn car, and two of our men have proven useless at protecting you.” Protecting me. I was a job to him now, an obligation, and a small piece reveled in the thought of earning the revered place within the twisted mind of Julian Molloy, despite the omissions and secrets. He saved me. Again.

  “You didn’t have to save me,” I whispered, our eyes locked with an equally concentrated stare. “Again. I’m nothing, I’m a nobody.” I repeated the words from my dream, the words left spinning in the confines of my mind after hearing them slip from Julian’s lips.

  “Let’s go.” He reached for me as a white car pulled alongside the curb.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “Only my ego,” he snorted, taking my hand, “and my pocketbook.” He gestured toward my dress. I held my palm against the hand covering his side, lifting my eyes to Julian’s. His hand was cold, but the soft skin started to swell with warm blood that stained his shirt.

  “You’re hurt,” I muttered, ignoring the opening of car doors behind him. “You need a doctor.” Julian shook his head, his attention torn from me as Liam approached in hurried steps.

  “Jesus,” he whined, putting his hands on my shoulders. “Are you…what—”

  Julian groaned, “Liam. Your hands.” Julian’s eyes widened with his command, but Liam’s hold persisted through his inspection of me before examining his wounded brother.

  “He needs a doctor.” I nodded toward Julian, observing the domineering glance he burned into his little brother. “Someone needs to get him to a hospital.”

  “No, we don’t.” He finally removed his hands from my shoulders and placed them atop his head. “Julian, your home? They’re…” Liam’s glance fleetingly met mine, his tone hard and words more abrupt. “They’re waiting for you there,” he muttered. “We need to go.” Liam stepped to the side and held open the rear door, his hand extended in my direction.

  “Stop touching her, Liam,” Julian growled, blocking the space between Liam and me, filling my thoughts with worry as he turned to me. “Get in, Aideen.” No babby? This is serious.

  I complied, too anxious from the silent sibling war battling outside of the car, and fastened my seatbelt while Julian fell into the seat next to me. He contorted in pain, jaw clenched and breaths exhaled with a hiss.

  “Don’t mind him, bird
,” Liam spoke from the driver’s seat, adjusting the mirror before peeling away from the curb. “He’s been through a hell of a lot worse.”

  “Don’t say another damn word,” he seethed, eyes focused out his window. “Just drive.”

  Julian’s tone was dangerously ominous, the profanities a foreign language on his elegant tongue. I watched him with worry, worry for his well-being, worry that I cared, and worry about what to expect.

  ***

  Julian’s legs trembled beneath his weight as Liam carefully supported his tumbling exit from the car. His skin paled, his brow furrowed with pain, and yet he still was indescribably beautiful. Despite his condition, the ripple of muscles in his clenched jaw, and his inability to stand alone, he emitted his powerful, dominant, seductively charming persona. Like a true demon, Julian smiled through it all.

  I followed the brothers into Julian’s building, caught by the unusual vacancy of its lobby. David stood at the elevator, already holding the doors open for us as we approached. I couldn’t discern what the three men discussed while we entered the space because my ears rang with a violent reproduction of the explosion. It happened so quickly, my heart unable to react to a hidden thought in my mind. I almost met my mother’s fate, torn and murdered in the same manner. I shivered, rattled with the thought, and clutched the handrail.

  “Aideen?” Liam asked, lifting my elbow. I shook my head and stared at the ceiling, desiring to escape everything if only for a moment, and tugged my arm back. I was still staring when the elevator stopped and my companions stumbled through the doors. David nodded politely to me, acknowledging my stupor as I stepped into the vacant hall.

  I contemplated the memory of wishing to escape, but my heart was imprisoned by the guilt of leaving. Guilt. It blurred in the back of my mind with a tingle of something…nostalgic. The pang of it alone weighed against my heart. I inhaled a shaky breath and reminded myself of my earlier concerns, the way in which I ended up with my forced residence inside Julian’s home, and the minor detail of almost dying half an hour ago. My fingers shook, followed by my knees. I wasn’t sure I could make it down the hall without assistance. I anchored my weight with my right palm spread against the wall for balance as I caught my unsteady breath. I looked at my ring, overcome by the reflective prisms that danced, covering the empty hall with rainbows.

  “Aideen!” Maureen screamed down the hall, her diminutive figure flowing to meet me while I stood against the wall in emotional paralysis. The only response I provided was a small glance before two lonely tears dribbled along my cheeks. Maureen’s palms were on me, cupping my face as she cooed in attempted comfort.

  “You’re safe now,” she whispered, pulling my face against her shoulder, her thin fingers combing through my hair. I trembled beneath the tickle of Maureen’s hand along my back, comforted by her affectionate touch.

  “This sort of thing happens sometimes,” she whispered into my ear. “It isn’t the first time Julian has been threatened. Unfortunately.” Her voice trailed off into a depressed sigh, and I pulled away from her warm shoulder. I studied her face, precisely painted with the privilege of expensive makeup, distracted by her bright crimson lips. They matched my dress, or what was left of the nine thousand dollar purchase.

  “This sort of thing.” I repeated her words, waiting for a sign of elaboration in her emotive blue eyes. Maureen linked our arms together after she wiped the lonely tears from beneath my eyes and tugged me along with her toward Julian’s door. It was gaping, revealing the dark, vacant space of his foyer.

  “I—” I began, my stomach twisting. This sort of thing happens sometimes. What the hell sort of thing? People trying to blow up Julian? Maureen moved to stand in front of me in the darkened doorway.

  “No.” An unfamiliar voice caused us both to jump as it bellowed from deep within the apartment. “You’ve done it again and made yourself weak, Julian. You’re so goddamned useless. To think you’re next in line…”

  “He’s not weak,” Liam interjected, his tone frighteningly aggressive. “Do you even remember what he went through?”

  “What she went through?” My devil, my savior; his voice broke through the unseen argument, tearing my attention from Maureen and stilling my heart.

  I heard his pained moan, the excruciating noise resounding through the walls and suffocating me at the threshold. I wanted to sleep for the next fifty years, waking up in time to retire in the Mediterranean. It would be lovely—I would have a goat, a boat, and I would be safe. Safer than I am now. Julian told me I was the safest I’d ever been, but my life was almost lost again, along with his.

  The muffled argument continued from within his home. Maureen skipped away from me, her heeled shoes clamoring into the darkness. I had no plan to enter, my mind perseverating on its fear, but I burned with a terrified sweat. I shrugged off my soiled coat in the foyer, exposing the remnants of my dress, when footsteps approached, covering the sound of my shaking breath.

  “Bird,” Liam whispered, his hands rigidly stuffed in his pockets. “Let me help you to bed.”

  I shook my head in response, hoping he would take the hint and disappear, but luck wasn’t on my side.

  “I’ve been directed to go against your stubborn wishes and help you get settled in. Just be thankful you’re invited to stay the night.”

  “Invited? Are you…wow.” I finally found my voice, preparing myself to spit directly into his pretty face. Invited? Wow, Julian, really flattering to know that after we almost died together tonight you’re inviting me to stay here. I must have won the lottery.

  Liam cleared his throat. “Are you quite finished?”

  “No. I am not quite finished. Jesus Christ, Liam, are you nuts? I’m fucking invited?”

  “Spitfire,” his teeth bit around his top lip, fighting laughter, “let me get you into your room. You can sleep. Whatever. Sound good?”

  “Sounds like I’m going to find your brother’s rope and kill you.” I smiled at him, my eyes squinted with mirth. Liam forcefully wrapped his fingers around my bare bicep.

  “I want to be a gentleman, bird,” he said while dragging me into the foyer, “because I find you absolutely fucking beautiful, and your wit burns my heart, but you need to remind yourself of one very important thing tonight. Right now, in this moment, we are strangers. Right now, I could find my brother’s rope and I could kill you.”

  His free index finger tapped the tip of my nose. “Put on your gorgeous smile and walk with me. Trust me, you do not want to give yourself any excuse to act so comfortably around here this evening.”

  Considering I almost died with Julian earlier and then Liam threatened to kill me, my heart basically snapped in half and shattered into ten thousand pieces in the bowels of my own mental hell. I remained mute, grinding my teeth so I wouldn’t let the tears flow from my blurring eyes. Once we reached the door to my bedroom, Liam’s hand froze on the knob. He released his hold of me, lifting his hand to my cheek, and slowly wiped a stray tear from my skin.

  “I didn’t mean that,” he murmured. “It kills me to have said that to you, but you have to pull it together. If not for Julian, then for yourself. Trust me.” For Julian? Trust? This motherfucker had no clue what he, his words, his family, his precious brother, had all done to me.

  Without a reply, Liam opened the door and ushered me inside. It was as though I had never been in there before. The bed was crisply made; my clothes and towel were no longer on the floor. It was like my stay had been erased. I looked around, and Liam disappeared. Just like that, I was alone. I went into the closet to remove the scraps of fabric covering my body, then fought the urge to fall against the mattress and cry myself to sleep.

  Once vulnerably undressed, I scoured through the dresser drawers for the leggings and thermal shirt I packed when leaving my home. The other time I almost died. Again. The clothes smelled like home as I stuffed the pile against my face, filling my eyes with tears of yearning and homesickness. It was useless to feel anything in that mom
ent. I pulled on the clothes, curling into comforting familiarity, and climbed into bed. The first tears were soft, a gentle reminder that emotion continued to exist within my battered soul. The next series of sobbing tears were harder, wearing me down until I fell asleep.

  Chapter Four

  A man’s booming voice filtered into my room, breaking my slumber and vibrating against my door. “You need to!”

  My eyes quickly opened, responding to the rapid pounding of my anxious heart within the confines of my shivering chest.

  “Lower your voice,” another man demanded in a slow hiss. “We’re not alone.”

  “Don’t fucking remind me,” the first man growled. It wasn’t Julian or Liam, not even David.

  I waited, but nobody spoke again. I flinched at the sound of footsteps in the hall outside of my door, approaching before the knob slowly turned. I flew beneath my covers, my breath held tightly enough to fool the intruder.

  “A—” His whisper was faint, almost inaudible, but a welcome noise that caused warm tears to wiggle from my painfully sealed eyelids. Julian. The door closed, and within a second, his footsteps retreated.

  I caught my breath but struggled to hear their muffled conversation. I needed to move closer to the door; the feather-stuffed pillows blocked out too much noise. I tossed off the covers and threw my legs over the side of the mattress. My knees were still wobbly, struggling to support me as I slunk down and pressed my head to the floor in hopes of seeing or hearing anything from behind the door.

  “Asleep…no.” It was Julian, his hushed tone nearly a growl with curt irritation. “Alive…who do you…” I couldn’t decode his broken dialogue. Taking an enormous risk, I slowly opened the door and kneeled against the floor. My nerves pumped pure adrenaline through my veins, blood removed and replaced by the frightening sensation of fight or flight.

  “I’ll ask the Sheehan family, but odds are they won’t offer much. They’ve been in with the Youngs since day one,” one of his companions said more calmly, his voice direct.