Survival & Revenge (Boston Latte Book 3)

by Fiona Keane

  “As you’re well aware, even in our world, there are consequences to every action,” our grandfather mumbled, and I began considering how quickly I could escape. I knew every truth held its consequence, the grotesque dominoes which remorselessly tore through lies and secrets without. I understood the palpable magnitude of every seemingly miniscule glance, idea, or touch of my hand and its impact on Aideen’s life. But I’ll never let her go. She’s my truth, my angel, my soul.

  “But Charles Foley was a useless soldier serving Edward, not me. I couldn’t care less as to whether or not he lives, and the same goes for his daughter. I do care, however, that his death brings to my attention how intricately aligned he was with you, Edward.”

  “Merely a soldier. A distraction, of sorts. His death and the other Young boy are meaningless.” Edward lied through his teeth, but I must have been the only one who noticed. Liam and I knew all along, since meeting with our agent months before, that Charles and Edward were somehow aligned. Don’t tell me Gordon didn’t know. I gnawed on my knuckle, my gaze flickering between the three men surrounding me. That must have been Liam’s consequence, their awareness of our knowledge. Wait. The other Young? Don’t look at Liam. Don’t.

  “There are consequences to every action, boys,” Satan threatened under his breath.

  “That’s a shame.” Liam read my mind, a condescending laugh rippling through his throat. “I’d like to meet the bird who ended his life.” Holy shit. My heart pounded, a racing spasm of restrained excitement. She did it.

  “As for Liam and his latest tryst—”

  “Is this a fucking confessional?” I demanded, my palm slamming against the table with annoyance as I cut off our grandfather. “He’s screwing her! I’m marrying Noelle! What more do you want?!”

  “Confirmation.” My grandfather’s tone was ice, a frozen suspension of syllables that clung to my skin like death. I stood from the table, eyes on his, nostrils flared while I struggled to breathe.

  “You fucking have it!” I roared, storming the door. “I’m taking Noelle to the theatre tomorrow. You can bring your damn cameras if you want confirmation.”

  I would let them discuss whatever political bullshit they felt necessary to exclude me from, because I no longer gave a damn. When he was dead, the city would be mine, and I would fix the ills of his ways, after I killed every single person who threatened my girl. Flying down the stairs of the State House, I couldn’t escape the burn creeping along my skin. I was intoxicated with rage, craving their deaths, and blinded with the debilitating plan mastered by Liam and Aideen behind my back. If I could just see her one more time, give her my heart, prove to her everything was for her, my death would be just.

  It was the following afternoon before I ate anything, and that was the cherry from an Old Fashioned. My nerves were misfiring with each step I took, my life a bomb within a glass room of eggshells. They planned it perfectly on their part, the same play and theatre, a space with darkness that would allow a moment to gaze at her. And hold her. Kiss her. Tell her I love her. Before I needed to leave her, indefinitely…

  I dressed in a suit, not caring for a tuxedo because I didn’t give a flying shit about what I looked like next to Noelle, or even what I wore at all. I just wanted to see Aideen. I wanted to know she was alive, that Liam kept his word. My limbs were rigid, powerless while I tried to shave, dress, or walk across town to meet Noelle. I needed the air, the early spring chill, to give my nerves a chance to relax. It didn’t work. I felt even more tormented, knowing I was meant to be seen at the theatre with a hoax of a fiancée, while the one who held my vows was somewhere. We still have time.

  I met Noelle inside the theatre, the poor girl holding herself hostage in the theatre box with a pout. She actually thinks I care. It was pathetic, but I deserved the torture after what I had allowed to happen to Aideen.

  I quietly entered the room, watching the introduction as the symphony hurt my head. I had my hand on Aideen’s leg last time, she wore a dress fit for the goddess she is, and all I wanted was to close the curtain and seal the door to the box, admitting my sins to her in our own inexplicable confessional. This time, I watched a pregnant woman sit alone, her puffy lips sucking from a straw. I stood at the back, squinting to look for Liam or Aideen anywhere in the audience. Each glimmer of reflected jewelry, movement from a box, or usher guiding someone, and my eyes jerked with hope.

  I was still feet away from Noelle when the first act ended, holding an Irish coffee with my body fixed against the wall, anchored with the weight of the next minutes in my life.

  “You do that a lot,” Noelle purred below my ear, her shaking glass of ice and vodka threatening to spill against my suit coat as she pressed herself against me. She was barely able to stand still with her heels and heavily intoxicated blood. I was embarrassed for her parents, not that their hearts meant anything to me. As a man capable of producing my own child, I don’t know how one could raise their daughter to be so filthy. My own child? What the fuck? She was pregnant, visibly so if one knew to look, and she carelessly poisoned herself and that child.

  “Do what, Noelle?” I replied, gently guiding her shoulders away from me while she struggled to contain the contents of her glass. I took the vodka from her hands, overwhelmed with guilt for the child she bore, and disgusted with her utter lack of respect for life. Said the murderer. Innocent life. I protect the innocent.

  “Stare off somewhere else,” she replied, grabbing my chin. “When you should be staring at me.”

  “My mind seems to be otherwise concerned.” Her desperation was repulsive. Guiding her artificially tanned hand from my face, I contemplated my escape route.

  “You’re no fun anymore, Julian Patrick,” she whimpered. “You aren’t going to make me a happy wife if you keep turning me away.”

  For the love of Boston! This woman is going to make my brain implode. The only person I wanted touching me was nowhere to be found. The thought of Aideen tantalized me with its beautiful memory, but the notion of her being a memory filled my stomach with a twisting knot of unease. I just needed to wait for intermission. I need to find my brother.

  “When will you take me for my ring?” she chirped, her eagerness echoing inebriation. I peered at her from my periphery, not having considered our engagement beyond it liberating Aideen from the shackles of my world.

  “Buy yourself a ring and tell the tabloids whatever the fuck you want, Noelle. Do you know a good jeweler?” I growled beneath my breath, teeth grinding until my clenched jaw throbbed. She gasped as though I actually offended her, as if my crass response was the reason to be offended in the entire circus of our engagement.

  “Well,” she stammered, “I do, actually. Daddy does. He knows someone who works with Tiffany’s. Would you talk to him for me?”

  I spun in response, eyes piercing through her. “What?”

  She cowered beneath the potency of my stare, her arms crossing limply against her chest as she stepped back. The muscles in my neck stiffened, my body rigid, as I waited for her to continue incriminating her damn father.

  “Daddy’s friend works with Tiffany’s,” she lifted her blinding bracelet inches from my face, “and he gave me this. It’s rubies.”

  “I prefer sapphires.”

  “Oh.” Noelle’s eyes sparkled. “I suppose I could wear that as an engagement ring or somehow incorporate it into my wedding jewelry.”

  I grinned, placing my hands on Noelle’s shoulders, as my tone oozed condescension. “Does Daddy’s friend make sapphire rings, sweetheart?”

  Noelle shrugged, but I knew the truth, and I finally understood the connection between Regan’s hand on my sister’s ass and Aideen’s ring. Goddamned Edward Regan gave my sister the ring, filled with a fucking tracking device, meant to murder us. My own sister. My grandfather wouldn’t stoop so low; he wouldn’t allow his princess to kill the heir. He must not have known, because that would legitimize the threat to his own life at Regan’s hands. No, this was their secret, Ed
ward and my little fucking sister.

  “What are you thinking of now?”

  “Nothing concerning you, Noelle.” I sipped from the glass of Irish coffee, swirling the cream, whisky, and caffeine in a mindless daze while my tolerance for petty annoyances slowly chipped away. My sister.

  “If your grandfather knew how cruel you are to me, Julian Patrick,” she scoffed, her arms crossing defiantly, “you’d be in big trouble.”

  I turned to her, spinning to observe the pathetic way her arms tightened to inflate her cleavage, watching her chin lift in response to receiving my gaze. That little girl must have forgotten with whom she spoke. Big trouble?

  “I’m going to tell you something, Noelle.” I paused, my glass swirling at my side. “If you threaten me once more…”

  “Yes?”

  Noelle stepped closer, her bony fingers crawling along my suit jacket before her hands spread against my chest, searing the skin below. Her face was bright, hungry, and desperate. I hate this girl. Her stained lips widened, waiting with a perverse grin that further churned my insides, threatening the alcohol to erupt from within me.

  “Once more,” I repeated, responding to Noelle’s hopelessly eager smile with my own taunting grin. My mouth spread, the brightness of my teeth further blinding Noelle into a daze, setting her pause right where I wanted her. I leaned forward, my face hovering just above her shoulder. The tremble that erupted through her skin, the pressure of her hands pressing their hold more deeply against me, and I knew she would listen. She was ready to swallow whole whatever words fell from my mouth, but I lingered with my breath slowly making its way against her heightened skin.

  “I’ll kill you,” I warned, my words slow and deliberate.

  I pulled away from Noelle, leaving her. I swiftly left the theatre box, my drink securely maintained in my hands. I felt the bang and shatter against the closed door panel behind me while the latch took, a wide and devilish sense of arrogance spreading across my face with my smile. Liam was standing at the end of the hall, his ankles crossed beneath him while he leaned against his right side, gaping at me.

  “You’re breaking shit?”

  “Just hearts,” I sneered, anxiously approaching him while shaking the thought of Noelle from my mind. “You’re early.”

  “I wanted to be sure you two had time.” Liam’s words came through a whisper that reverberated inside my heart. She’s here. I needed to tell him everything Noelle expressed, but I couldn’t let them take one more moment away from my time with Aideen. As I stood before my brother, his exhausted features exposing the burden of his heart, I reached for him and wrapped my arms around his body.

  “You’re embarrassing me.” Liam laughed, returning my embrace. “Box H. I’m taking her home in half an hour.” He turned from me without further exchange and left me in the hall, Noelle in the box behind me, and Aideen on the other side of the theatre. My body took over, controlling physical movement as my mind shut down to only the thought of her as I flew through the theatre. Intermission was all we had, a pause in both theatre and reality. Crowds gathered in the middle of the lobby, along stairwells, and swollen elevator cars, but I was determined.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I didn’t remember my name by the time I arrived outside of her box. I don’t even think I could breathe if my body wasn’t responsible on its own. It had been weeks since I touched her, kissed her, told her I love her. Weeks. Goddammit!

  I gritted my teeth to pause their tremble as I approached the closed curtain, my arms crossed tightly to contain the powerful throb of my heart. The curtain swayed just once, hiding the figure unraveling my nerves, as the intermission lights flashed their initial warning and my heart ceased. My throat tightened. I couldn’t breathe, despite my nostrils flaring in desperation for air. My eyes were rolling and blinking wildly to clear the moisture brewing in anticipation.

  I will marry her. I will spoil her. I swear to God, let her live, let us live, so we can be together. I inhaled a shaky breath, feeling the tickle of her initial burned into my skin. I reached for the curtain. The weight of my lungs released with a swift exhale as our eyes met, both paralyzed, as though we were teenagers unsure of how to approach one another. Fuck that. I stopped breathing, her existence, her survival, the only fuel I needed before bounding toward the angel wearily watching me in her long, black silk dress.

  “I won’t let this be the last time I see you,” I snarled in a whisper, consuming Aideen’s mouth with mine as I grasped the back of her skull, pulling her into me. She spared no mercy against my body as her thin fingers climbed my aching muscles to hold my head before her, her lips smashing onto mine as our tongues fought the breathless battle of desperation against time.

  “It won’t,” she assured me, her first words to me in weeks forcing my eyes to seal with sorrowful tears. I couldn’t consume her quickly enough, my hands and mouth wanting to be everywhere at once, memorizing each curve and dimple that created the woman I love.

  I savored the flavor of her delicate skin as I glided my tongue along her neck. “He risked his life, and yours, bringing you here,” I whispered against her throat, unable to release my hold.

  “I risked my life for you, and I will always risk my life for us, Julian.” Aideen’s fingers kneaded the base of my skull before trailing along my traps and grasping my biceps in her frail hold. Their torture changed her; I could tell in the darkness as she lingered between the curtains. Sleeves covered her arms, but the bones in her fingers lacked the aggressive pressure I once felt in her hold. The demand existed, but her body grew weary with frustration as their abuse limited her strength. It’s up to me to carry her, to lead her, and I will.

  “Babby,” I whispered against her neck, receiving the soft nuzzle of her chin against my temple in response. “Forgive me.” I wrapped my arms around her, pained by the extra inch brought on by her torture, and pressed my face into the crook of her neck, inhaling the intoxicant of Aideen. Her fingernails deliriously scratched along my neck and hairline, sending a welcome chill down my spine. I struggled to blink away the tears before they rolled from my eyes and onto her chest.

  “We’ve done what we needed to protect each other, Julian,” Aideen uttered, her fingers crawling from my head until they found my stomach. Her palms pressed against my abs, softly pushing me from her as she clung to the buttons of my shirt. I stood back, lifting my hands to cup her cheeks. There wasn’t enough time. I tilted her face toward mine, her quiet tears pressing against mine as I leaned forward to kiss her once more.

  “Come with me,” I breathed, taking her hands into mine. My fingers tingled with the tears I wiped from her cheeks before we left the theatre box. The intermission lights flickered as we entered the hall, but we could easily snake through the hordes of people heading in the opposite direction because the box was near an exit. There wasn’t enough time, but I was about to find some. We approached a series of doors in the vacant hallway, and with Aideen in my shadow, both of my arms holding her behind me, I kicked open the second panel we found. The floodlights along the floor and slow glow of the intermission lights supported our vision enough to find a desk.

  I turned to Aideen, my heart racing feverishly as I lifted her to the surface of the desk, scattering its owner’s possessions onto the floor with a hasty shove. She fell onto her back, greedily pulling me to her by the length of my tie. The pressure of Aideen’s body beneath mine drove me crazy, wild with need for only her. Aideen’s knees lifted on each side of me as she rashly tugged my tie, pulling my mouth to hers.

  I balanced my weight against my right palm as I lifted my left hand to her right leg, curving my hold around her knee. Her skin melted with my touch, the soft alabaster puddling with my heat as I guided the silk fabric to pool at her waist. I will always make time for her.

  I felt her tremble beneath me as our mouths crashed together, desperate to meld our lips while I tickled the porcelain of her legs. Aideen released my tie, her fingers greedily crawling down my chest
to pull my shirt from the restraint of my waistband.

  “Don’t you think we’ve waited long enough?” I heard her piquant snarl, the seductive song sent straight to the part of me she roughly cupped in her hungry possession. I reached for her, molding my hands around the supple cup of her breasts before biting her bottom lip. It was a thirst we satisfied with the plea of arousal, almost one year of anticipation bursting through the moment, knowing deep down it could be our only chance.

  “It’s only a matter of time,” my stare bored into hers, the determined darkness stealing my soul, “before you’re in my bed once more, Aideen.”

  “Right where you left me,” she moaned as her eager fingers undid my zipper, “…wanting.”

  “As promised,” I seethed, my blood exploding in my veins like a raging volcano as her fingers wound around me. I grazed my teeth along her throat, gliding to the delicate skin of her collarbone, trailing kisses wherever I could as though I could consume her in that moment.

  “Deliver on your promise then,” she growled, tugging on me as her hips wiggled forward on the desk. I took her in my arms, adhering her swelling chest to mine as we gasped for breath while I lifted her above me and leaned back onto the desk. I held her face, looking once more into the eyes I’d known, wanting this moment more than life, wanting her.

  She uttered my name in a searing moan as she lowered onto me, giving me everything I ever imagined as I saw our life flash before me in an explosion of lust. It was heaven, the rush of emotion pouring out of me as we fell apart as one. Fuck. I waited for this moment, longing for it as a cloud awaits the glorious release of rain, or the moon awaits the tide. I wanted it to be perfect, beautiful, and at a pace only Aideen demanded. But with her tongue against the hollow of my throat, her fingernails piercing the tattoo of her initial before clawing down my spine as I pushed myself further into her soul, I couldn’t have imagined it another way.