Jeanine’s behavior toward her set the tone for Kathleen. She knew she wouldn’t get in trouble being mean to Fiona so she let it rip. It was unpleasant, but it could have been much worse, they never hurt her physically. Who knew what kind of life she would have had at all if it weren’t for Liam?
“He took excellent care of me. So I owe Liam a great debt,” she said quietly.
“And so do I,” he kissed her.
“When I got accepted to the Berklee College of Music, Jeanine decided that would eat into my concert appearances, so she tried to stop me. I became an emancipated minor at the age of seventeen, and they lost their cash cow, but I got a great education out of it.”
“Ah, Fi,” Tate grimaced.
“Liam has always been there for me, at the risk of his relations with his own parents.”
Tate watched Fiona reminisce for a few minutes and then, before her sadness got him angry, he changed the subject.
“Come shower with me, my love, it’s not raining.” She chuckled. “Then after, I’m taking you to jail.”
“Why didn’t you say so?” They chuckled.
An hour later they were walking around the inside of Kilmainham Gaol. Fiona particularly liked learning the brutal history of the place. From there they walked hand in hand through Merrion Park where they saw Oscar Wilde’s statue. They took pictures of themselves and Oscar, reclining on a large rock and trotted across the street to his house, which was closed for tours that day. Fiona had lost track of time, it was Christmas Eve.
“I’m sorry, my love.”
“You know what? I’m just enjoying being here with you, I don’t need to do any more tours.”
“The distillery tour is quite good.”
“Ugh, I can’t stand whiskey, Billy drinks whiskey, which ruined it for me.”
“And when do I get to meet your father?”
They were wandering around a cemetery full of Celtic crosses with their arms linked together.
“Do you really want to meet my father? I mean, we aren’t close, we don’t even speak to each other. He never met Dean.”
“In that case I definitely need to meet him. Fi, I feel like I need to know everything about you. I want to be a part of your life.” He inhaled deeply. He did want it, why was he so scared about wanting it?
“You know more about me than almost anyone, Tate.”
“I’m glad. Who knows more?”
“Well, Liam probably knows more than you, simply because he was right there for much of it. And I think Tess simply gleans things without my knowledge. She’s like that,” Fiona looked thoughtful.
“Aye, she is,” he had to thank Tess for introducing Fiona to him. He owed her a huge debt. He put his arm around her and they ducked into a perfume shop on King Street. Tate strode right up to the shop girl and Fiona chuckled when the poor girl nearly choked on her gum.
“Have you got the Joy perfume, love?” He said with one of his patented grins.
“Uh, yes, we do,” she stuttered.
“Wait, what?” Fiona said. “Tate, you don’t need to…”
“I do, Fi.” He followed the shop girl and found what he was looking for and bought it. “Don’t bother wrapping it, love.”
“Could I have your autograph, please?” She said and turned bright red.
“Of course,” he smiled at her and signed the paper she presented.
“Thank you, I feel like an arse, but you’re Tate Dylan!” She made a little involuntary hop. “Connor Damon in town, by any chance?” Tate shook his head.
“No, I expect he’s with his family for the holiday,” he said.
“Happy Christmas to you,” the shop girl said.
“Thanks, Happy Christmas,” Tate said and they left the store.
“My perfume?”
“It’s hard to travel with liquid these days, I thought you’d like to have a supply here as well as there.”
“You’re very thoughtful. Thank you, Tate,” she kissed his cheek. He stopped and took her hand and looked into her eyes. People were passing left and right, hurrying to get what they needed done before Christmas Eve dinner.
“You are most welcome.”
When they got back to Tate’s house Fiona made her flight reservation for the following morning and went to find Tate. He was in the kitchen with his brother Thomas. They had been arguing, but when Fiona walked in they became silent and it made her feel awkward.
Thomas was big where Tate was slight. He was barrel shaped, without an ounce of fat on him. All Tate’s brothers had a similar build, with black hair, some of it going white. None of them were particularly tall, but they carried themselves like they were, and they all had dimples in their chins. Their eye color varied from blue to brown, Thomas’s eyes were chocolate brown, she noticed as he rested his gaze upon her. Maybe Tate was a changeling, these two brothers were as dissimilar as she and Liam were.
“Fiona, I wanted to apologize for Kelly’s words yesterday. She thinks it’s her job to cull out the weak, like,” Thomas said with a little smile. Fiona wasn’t having it. She was suddenly incensed.
“Just Kelly? All of you left me there in the sitting room to listen to your hilarious barbs at your brother’s expense, not just Kelly,” she sighed. “What is wrong with you people? Your mother was in great pain and you think it’d be fun to level insults at Tate’s support system, not taking thirty seconds to know anything more about me than what or who I looked like, and jumping to conclusions about my purpose here, as if it were any business of yours. You were so rude your children scattered in embarrassment and I chose to leave instead of listen to any more. Essentially defeating the purpose of my being any kind of a support for Tate.” Thomas was starting to look ill. Tate looked very surprised at her as yet unexpressed anger.
“Even Ryan knew what was going on, and he wasn’t even there,” she turned to Tate. “How could you not have known?” Tate’s eyes went round and he flushed guiltily and she felt suddenly nauseous. “Of course you knew.” She turned back to Thomas. “And it’s not your responsibility to apologize for Kelly, she’s a big girl now. Your apology for yourself is accepted, but only because you look sorry.” The words seemed to fly out of her in a torrent, she couldn’t stop herself. She was angrier about the whole incident than she even realized. It had festered while she wasn’t paying attention. If nothing else, her experience with Dean taught her that she would not take any more abuse from people.
“I don’t think he’s gay, you know?” Thomas said. Fiona’s eyes opened wide.
“Again, that would be none of your business. So what if he were? That has nothing to do with anything, but if he were, and you made fun of him for it you would see no end to my wrath.” Thomas was actually entertained.
“It’s just, you do look a bit like Connor, and come to think on it, you fight like him, too. I see your teeth and your fists clenching like you’d like to take a swing,” he pointed at her hands which were, indeed, clenching.
“I’ll take that as a compliment. It’s time for you people to rally for your mother, and not be a pack of gobshites. I can only assume you will relay my message to your family. Excuse me,” she said and turned around to see Mrs. O’Neill standing in the doorway to her kitchen. Mrs. O’Neill nodded at her and Fiona stormed out of the kitchen.
She found the room with the piano in it and sat down to play. Releasing her passion through her fingers she pounded furiously on the keys. This was only stress relief, she wasn’t trying to impress or hone any skill; she was pouring her anger into the music. It was what she did. An hour later she lifted her head feeling better. Tate sat on one of the chairs with his head thrown back, listening.
“You should go see your mom, Tate,” she said when she saw him.
“Not just yet, I owe you an apology, too.” She shook her head.
“I’m leaving tomorrow morning. I have a concert in Boston in a few days, I need to be awake for it.” Tate stood to block her from walking out the door.
“You w
on’t even let me speak?” His arms were wide in a supplicating gesture.
“We’ve been together every moment since it happened. I think you could have found the opportunity at some point in the past twenty four hours.”
“Fi, I understand you’re angry. I was so mental about seeing her, everything else fled my mind. As I walked up the steps to my mam’s bedroom I saw Kelly give me a smirk and I thought, she wouldn’t, not at a time like that, and not to my woman.” Fiona laughed ironically.
“Why not? What makes you immune? I would have thought you’d be an easy target with your… proclivities. With me as your proxy.” He cringed.
“I am sorry, Fi.” He took her hand and placed it on his chest. “I didn’t even know you were angry with me.”
“I didn’t either until I heard Thomas’s voice and remembered his booming laughter at your expense. Then suddenly I was mad at everyone involved, even you. I’m also stressed about my work and about leaving you here to the lions,” she explained and he pulled her into his arms. “And I’ll never get to know your mom.” For some reason that hurt just as much as the rest of it. Tears fell from her eyes on to his shoulder.
“Ah, sweet lassie. You’re complicated, aren’t you? Come on then, let’s go say goodbye to her.”
“Tate, you are not coming back to DC with me, you need to see this through.” They stared at each other.
“Will you come back when you’re through with your responsibilities?” He asked. He made the word responsibilities sound like an invective and she smiled slightly.
“If you still want me after my bad behavior with your brother.”
“That was good for him to hear, even though I think he enjoyed it a bit too much,” Tate said. “And it was good for me to hear it, too. And you were defending me like a cornered cat, it was beautiful. I think Mrs. O’Neill is your new best friend.” She chuckled. “On more than one occasion she’s mentioned how badly behaved my family is… every time she sees them, actually. She said she was just going to pop out for your favorite biscuit.”
“I’ve only eaten one cookie since I arrived.”
“I know, they’re really my favorite biscuits,” he grinned at her. She simply could not remain angry at Tate Dylan.
***
“You rang for a cab? I could have taken you to the airport.” Tate complained as the cabbie put her bag in the back of the car.
“I know, I just thought you had enough going on.” She kissed him.
“Call me when you get there. I’m going to miss you. I can’t believe you’re leaving on Christmas morning.”
“Lots of empty planes on Christmas morning,” she said smiling.
“Take this, open it when you get bored, aye?” He handed her a large manila envelope. “Happy Christmas.”
“Tate, I didn’t get you anything,” she bit her lip. She hadn’t even thought of it, she’d been a little more stressed out than she realized.
“That’s okay, I have everything I need except for the fact the very thing I need the most is leaving me.” He kissed her.
“I’m going to miss you, too, Tate,” she whispered. He kissed her again. Swept away in the moment, knowing she was going to miss him so much it was going to hurt physically she stopped thinking and spoke her mind. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Tate.”
Silence.
There it was, spoken, out loud, she couldn’t take it back. Tate pulled away from her with a shocked and frightened look on his face. He held her by the upper arms and cringed.
“Well stop,” he said before he could stop himself. Fiona gasped and recoiled away from him as if pushed. She stumbled to the cab and fell into it. “Wait, Fi.”
“Please just drive,” she told the cabbie. Not looking back at him, she let herself be carried away to the airport, and the real world. The dream was over, it was time to wake up.
Chapter Fifteen
“Mom, I was wondering, in light of the ‘big reveal’, if you wanted to go to Fiona’s concert in Boston. I thought it might be fun,” Tess said to her mother.
“I like Boston,” Genna said.
“I know, that’s where you and Connor met, blah, blah, blah.” They laughed together.
“Let’s discuss it with the boys, but I think it’s a great idea. How’d your exams go?”
“Without a hitch. I’ve also started a Krav Maga class and I’m getting my motorcycle license. I thought you might want to know.”
“Um, what’s Krav Maga?”
“Oh, it’s the martial art that they teach the Israeli Army. It a mix of everything to do the most damage. Look, I’m black and blue from it,” Tess said excitedly showing her arms to her mom.
“Oh, how lovely. Of course I want to know everything, Tess. Are you nervous after the attack?”
“Not so nervous, more like I want to be prepared. I hate feeling vulnerable, Mom. I love the Tai Chi, but why stop there? I want to know how to do everything. I can’t explain the need.”
“Does it mean that we should expect you to never graduate?” Genna said with a laugh.
“Actually, I plan on graduating early, and travelling a lot. Is that okay with you?”
“Of course. You know how I feel about travel, it’s the best way to learn about other people and to open your mind. I think that’s wonderful, as long as you’re safe, Tess. That’s all I need.”
“Cool.”
***
Fiona rode her bicycle back from a small gathering of faculty at the Assad’s house, which wasn’t far away from her own, in the bitter cold. The sun had set and she had forgotten to bring gloves. Her fingers were practically frozen to the handlebars and she had to pry them off when she arrived at her house.
David was at the Assad’s, but he had avoided direct contact with her during the party, for which she was grateful, but he stared at her the entire time, which gave her the creeps. While she mingled with her colleagues, more than one of them noticed his attentions. Marwan Assad suggested he and his wife drive her home, but when David left the party early, she refused. David was mostly harmless, eventually he’d get over his crush and find someone else to harass. Then she realized that wasn’t a very kind thing to think.
She liked her colleagues, the whole department consisted of talented, interesting people who seemed to love their jobs. She enjoyed chatting with their spouses, too. Would Tate ever realize that he loved her, too, and be a faculty spouse one day? The image of him hosting a faculty party at her little townhouse made her smile. He’d have the TAs doing shots with him in the kitchen.
If she married Tate would she continue to be faculty or would he want her to follow him? Could they figure something out? The desire to speak with him was so strong that it hurt. She was a lousy support system for him, running away from him like that. She would call him when she got home and make it right.
Keeping herself from crying until she was buckled into her seat on the plane and she remembered the manila envelope, she bawled like a baby when she opened it. He did love her, he just hadn’t gotten over the fear factor yet. The evidence of his love spilled out into her lap in the form of photographs and articles of her mother, Catherine Brooks of the Boston Ballet. Fiona only had the one small photo she cut from a magazine, Tate found thirty seven pictures of her and a flash drive with eight articles about her. How he did it, she’d never know.
She ached to hold him.
Parking her bike in the garage she pressed the garage door remote that she kept in her jacket pocket to lower the door and stepped into her warm kitchen, thinking of how nice it would be to wrap her cold fingers around a mug of hot tea. The door to the kitchen bounced back open when she tried to close it, and before she could look to see what it was that had blocked it, she was thrown to the tile floor and the wind was knocked out of her.
Her first thought was that the Russians were back, and she was a dead woman. Once she found her breath, she smelled a familiar cologne and she slowly turned to see David Hollander straddling her back.
> “David! What do you think you’re doing?”
“You’re clever, you’ll figure it out soon enough,” he said.
She couldn’t feel her cold hands, and hoped she hadn’t done anything to them this close to a concert when she fell on them. “Let me up, David. You’re hurting me.” She still couldn’t think of him as a threat, in fact, she was relieved it was him and not the Russians.
“I don’t think so,” he said. That was when she felt the cold blade of a knife on her cheek. She went perfectly still. “Ah, I think you’re beginning to see the position you are in at last, Fiona Brooks, child prodigy.”
“What do you want?” She had no idea the position she was in, she knew it didn’t look good, though. She thought of Tate, would he be inconsolable if she was killed? He certainly gave that impression. Would she ever see him again? Why hadn’t she called him and made amends?
“I want you, Fiona, all I’ve ever wanted was you.”
“Then why do you have a knife on my throat?”
“Not throat, I don’t want you dead. I love you,” he said.
“David, I know we’ve had our ups and downs, but this…what you are doing, is not going to make me love you. Let’s discuss this like adults,” she was grasping at straws. He said he didn’t want to kill her, but that knife he held to her skin was a clear sign he wanted to do something that she wasn’t going to like. Did he plan to rape her? Did he think that was going to get her to love him?
“I didn’t want to get into that so soon, Fiona, but if you insist, I can explain myself,” he began.
“Okay, okay, okay,” she said. Her arms were in front of her and she motioned her palms downward with each word to calm herself as much as him. “Let’s just talk this out.”
“You’re so pretty, Fiona. You really are. People make the mistake of only seeing the outside, no one takes the time anymore to look past the outward appearance to see the person within.” He took a deep breath. “Tate Dylan just wanted you because you’re pretty, Dean Barnard just wanted you because you’re pretty. I want you because of what’s inside, Fiona. I won’t care if you have a big ugly scar down your face because I love the Fiona Brooks that’s on the inside. I’m a much better match for you, and I’m going to prove it to you the only way I know how.” Holy shit! He was going to disfigure her in the name of love.
Bassist Instinct (The Rocker Series #2) Page 27