“Why would I?” I groused back. “You think I want to drive in wall-to-wall traffic?”
Staring ahead at the traffic jam we found ourselves in, he heaved a sigh. “True. I wondered why you always drove, not your guards.” He tapped his hands on the steering wheel. “He’ll kill you if you scratch it.”
“I won’t scratch it,” I muttered, even as my mind was still fixated on the fact that he’d used the word ‘always.’
Brennan never had told me why he’d turned up at the stables yesterday, had he?
Yet here Bagpipes was, implying that he’d been watching me for a while.
Why?
I’d sensed a tail, but how long had I driven around without knowing someone was watching me?
The thought was unnerving enough for me to glance into the wing mirror to check out who was driving behind us.
“In fact, if you scratch it, it won’t just be you he’ll be killing, so you’d better be careful because it’s both our asses on the line if you drive,” Bagpipes muttered, evidently unaware that he’d just dropped a bombshell.
At least, what felt like a bombshell to me.
Perplexed to say the least, I replied, “I’m a good driver. When I was younger, I took a defensive driving course.”
“You did? Why?”
“Because Father got tired of me being sick in his cars. Some smells you just can’t wash out of upholstery.” My smile was tight. “I even learned how to drive if I was in a situation where I was being held at gunpoint or being taken hostage.”
Bagpipes grunted. “Your father was a weird fuck.”
“You won’t hear me argue,” I muttered.
“Hasn’t he ever heard of Dramamine?”
“Oh yeah, but it got embarrassing when I kept falling asleep everywhere.”
Bagpipes chuckled. “Made you sleepy?”
“Like I had narcolepsy,” I confirmed wryly, my hands pleating the skirt of my dress. “I wonder if there’ll be time to go shopping after the nail place—”
Bagpipes shook his head. “Brennan wants you back by seven.”
“Why? Will he be there?”
“Doubt it.” He snorted. “But you’ll figure out soon enough, he might look mild, but he’s fucking particular.”
“In what way?”
He shrugged. “Likes what he likes, loathes what he loathes. Ain’t afraid to point it out, either.”
Hadn’t I had a trial by fire of that this morning?
Warily, cautiously, because this man was Brennan’s and owed me no loyalty, I queried, “Is he—well, do you think I need to watch myself around him, Bagpipes?”
“I think a smart woman like yourself would always watch herself around a stranger. This marriage is going to cause trouble within the family, Camille. There’s no hiding from it. But ride it out and everything will be okay eventually. Brennan inherited a lot more from his da than he realizes. He won’t take shit from them.”
Words to inspire a flock.
Jeez. Everyone knew how insane Aidan O’Donnelly Sr. was. My father had been wary of him too.
“What did he inherit?” I asked gruffly.
“He’s temperamental. Volatile. But he ain’t fickle. You get on his good side, he’ll be loyal to you until the day you die.” He shot me a look. “I know what you’re asking, Camille. Will he beat you? Will he mistreat you?” He shook his head. “Never seen him with a woman longer than a couple of months so I can’t tell you what he’s like after a while.
“Everyone who’s married knows that what goes on behind closed doors is a whole other ballgame to what that couple shows the world, but I’ve known Brennan all my life. He’s a prick at times, capable of cruelty and spite, just like his da, but for women, he’s a sucker.”
“What do you mean? He’s a manwhore?” I asked quietly, wanting to know, but not wanting to discourage Bagpipes from being so candid either. I hadn’t expected such honesty, so I was grateful for it.
“Nah, I mean he’s a sucker. It’s to do with his ma. He ain’t a Momma’s boy, not really. Not more than any of those boys are. He just... he’s protective. That’s what all this is about, ain’t it? Him protecting you?”
Surprise filled me. “He told you?”
Bagpipes shrugged. “Not a lot he don’t share with his crew.”
“That’s unusual, isn’t it?”
He grinned. “Brennan’s unusual. You’ll see. I won’t talk shit about him, won’t tell you secrets. He’s my friend. More like a brother to me than anything else, but I just wanted you to know that with a good woman, he’ll be a good man. And...” His mouth tightened. “If you betray us, if you betray the O’Donnellys, I’ll slice you from throat to belly before he even gets a chance to.”
The threat meant nothing, not when I’d faced worse over the years. “I’d expect nothing less, Bagpipes.”
“Baggy, Camille. I’d like to think if I gotta sit bitch while you drive me around the city, we can be a little less formal.”
“I’d like that too, and I appreciate the advice.”
He shrugged. “Don’t cost nothing.”
“I suppose not.” My lips twitched. “You mind me asking why you’re called Bagpipes?”
The guard heaved a sigh like I was the most wearisome thing in the world, but I didn’t mind, especially when he replied, “When I got married, my wife insisted on walking down the aisle to bagpipes. The piper stuck around for the reception. I got a little drunk, me and him got into a small fight when I saw him eying up my bride like she was a T-bone, and he whacked me over the head with it. The name stuck with me ever since, especially when Kerry-Louise started learning how the oven worked.” He patted his belly. “Got the gut to prove she’s a brilliant cook.”
Laughing, I asked, “Does she call you Bagpipes?”
He arched a brow. “No. Would you call Brennan that?”
“True. What’s your real name?”
“Donal.”
“Thank you for telling me, Baggy,” I murmured.
He just shrugged, and a few minutes later, he dropped me about twenty yards from the coffee shop thanks to a pedestrian crossing, handing me a burner cell with instructions to call him when I was done at the nail salon.
As I climbed out, it felt strange to be wearing an evening dress for coffee when I was in such a nice part of the city. Couldn’t be helped, though. I’d had to leave everything behind apart from the bare minimum like a tub of Vaseline that could fit into my purse alongside the dress that needed destroying.
Before he’d left on business, Brennan had asked for it, and I’d felt nothing about leaving it with him, even though I knew he could hold it against me for life.
But I preferred it that way.
It was a means of showing him I was willing to have faith in him, and I wanted him to know that more than I cared about my freedom.
That rested with him anyway, so what was another piece of leverage in the grand scheme of things?
As I walked toward the coffee shop, there was a used coffee cup on the ground and a dirty sleeping bag with someone huddled underneath it.
It wasn’t that cold, yet, but I didn’t know how miserable it would be later on. Too miserable to stay in a damn sleeping bag, that was for damn sure.
Since my return from New Jersey, I’d noticed there were so many more homeless people on the streets, and though I couldn’t help them all, I tried to do what I could.
At the same time he’d asked for my dress, Brennan had given me a wad of cash. I had to assume that was supposed to last me a while, but I couldn’t, in good conscience, go into the nail salon to have my nails filed while this poor guy was sleeping rough outside it.
Dipping into my purse, I pulled out a couple of hundred dollar notes, and placed them into the cup. As I straightened, I saw Inessa was outside the coffee shop, watching me, and a few yards away, her guard hovered, watching me as well.
My cheeks turned pink as I strode toward them. As always, I wanted to reach out to Inessa, to have her hug me, but t
here might as well have been a ‘back off’ sign hanging around her neck. I respected her boundaries and just shot her a wary smile.
There was a lot I had to say to her, a lot I couldn’t say to her, but I needed to kill two birds with one stone and eating before I got back to the apartment would accomplish that.
“Shall we go in?” I asked her, pushing the door open before she could question what she’d just seen.
She’d painted me as a bitch for leaving them a long time ago, but that didn’t make me one. If I’d shaken that belief with human decency, then so be it. I hadn’t set out to do that.
The coffee shop was quiet, because it was a weird time to grab a drink and a snack, so I strode straight over to the counter without waiting on her, and placed an order for an open-faced chicken cobb salad sandwich and a latte.
After I’d paid, I left Inessa to make her own order and took a seat in the corner. It was a little cold out, especially with my meager outfit, but it was toasty warm in here.
A quick glance around told me we could talk in privacy, as the only patrons were at the other side of the storefront, clustered around a bunch of armchairs and sofas.
It reminded me of Friends, to be honest. There were three girls, three guys, all smiling and hanging out.
God, how simple their lives were.
Did they appreciate the freedom they had?
Just to hang out, for the sake of it? With no guards questioning their location, just striving to stay afloat?
As a teenager, I’d been an envious person. I’d coveted the freedoms that I thought regular people had, but as I grew up, and as I saw the MC and the families of the brothers who were more normal than anyone I’d ever known, I realized everyone had their stresses, their strains. Nothing was ever easy.
There was just less bloodshed.
And striving to stay afloat sucked. Hard.
I curled my hands in on themselves, feeling the sting of pain and reveling in it. A shaky sigh escaped me, much like it would when a junkie took a hit and the feelings of that drug-induced ecstasy slowly started to take over everything else...
This was my crack.
My acid.
I understood why Brennan wanted me to change the way I did my nails, and oddly enough, I didn’t resent it.
He was the first person to notice.
The first person to care.
My heart was in my throat as I registered that, but before I could get maudlin, Inessa appeared at my side.
She sported a frown that marred her perfectly made-up face as she slipped into a seat. “It’s not like you to eat through the day.”
“Is that an accusation?”
Her mouth turned down at the corners. “No. Of course not. I was just making a statement.”
I shrugged. “I’m hungry.”
“Good. You’re too thin. I can see your collarbones.”
“I can see yours,” I retorted waspishly.
“Yeah, but mine aren’t so prominent.” Her frown made another reappearance. “Are you sick or something? You’ve lost a lot of weight.”
I heaved a sigh. “Hence the sandwich. Look, I’m okay. Are you?” I asked pointedly, my gaze drifting to her stomach. It wasn’t like I could gawk at her between her legs, was it?
“The treatment’s working.”
“Glad to hear it.”
I caught sight of the server making his way toward us, and I let my focus shift to him until he placed our drinks on the table and returned to the counter, before I asked, “How’s Victoria doing?”
“She’s freaked out, and I can’t blame her.” Inessa doctored her coffee with a bottle of Stevia sweetener she pulled out of her purse, then leaned into me. “What the hell happened last night? Everything was normal as far as I could tell.”
“Nothing was ever normal in our household, was it?” I retorted dully, making a little hole in the foam so I could tip some sugar into my latte. As I stirred my drink, I murmured, “You know how everything derails, Inessa, and you can’t turn back the hands of time. I suppose that’s what happened last night.”
“Victoria says you were there.”
“Is that another accusation?” I snapped. “Are you sure they sorted out that rash? Is that why you’re so irritable today? Because I know as well as you do that you won’t be shedding a tear for that bastard. If anything, I’m grateful for what happened, and I’m pretty certain you are too.”
She pursed her lips. “Considering the circumstances, I don’t suppose there’ll be a funeral.”
I shrugged. “Off topic, but who knows?”
“I won’t be sad if there isn’t one. I’d prefer to toss dog crap on his casket than dirt.”
I grinned. “Well, that would definitely set the tone for the event.”
She didn’t smile, just narrowed her eyes on me, before she leaned into me and rasped, “Is it true?”
“Is what true?”
“Victoria said you told her not to say anything... she said she watched you and Brennan get married today?”
I winced. “Dammit.” Grabbing her hand, I squeezed her fingers and told her, “You mustn’t tell Eoghan. Brennan doesn’t want his brothers to know yet.”
Inessa blinked. “Why not?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is he ashamed of you?”
I snorted. “I don’t think so.”
Uneasiness crossed her expression, and slowly, she turned her hand in mine. “You’ve been riding too much again.”
The statement, as far as I could see, came out of the blue. “What do you mean?”
“I mean your hands are wrecked. I never did understand what happened at those stables to make them like that.”
She tried to flip my fingers around so she could look at my palm, but I resisted. “It can be hard work. I get a lot of blisters,” was all I told her, and I could tell that she believed me.
So, Inessa had noticed but had mistaken where the scars and cuts came from.
Was that her being naive? Or had everyone else known too and I hadn’t hidden my hands as well as I thought I had?
My younger sister hummed at my reply before she took a sip of her coffee and slouched back in her seat. She wore a bright pink Polo sweater that clung to her curves, and dark navy skinny jeans she paired with a set of gold ballet pumps.
She looked natural and at ease, like she was running errands.
Me, in my evening dress and cashmere jacket, well, I looked as if I was doing the walk of shame hours after I woke up.
“I haven’t told Eoghan,” she said with a sigh.
Relief filled me. “Thank God for that.”
“I don’t understand how any of this happened. Do you even know Brennan?”
“Apparently. I wouldn’t have married him otherwise,” I remarked.
“You were scared about Abramovicz—”
“Yes, wouldn’t you be?” I shook my head. “I knew Father wouldn’t agree to Brennan and me getting together. Why would he waste one of his pawns on the Irish again? He didn’t need to strengthen their alliance, did he? One sacrificial lamb was enough.”
Inessa grimaced. “True. Is that why Brennan didn’t want his family there today?”
“I think so. It’s highly likely Aidan Sr. won’t be thrilled either.”
“I guess... although, he’s not as bad as Father.”
“Words to live up to,” I said dryly, making her laugh.
“You’re not wrong,” she agreed. “He’s... I mean, I won’t lie, he’s a headcase, and he does things that are scary. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s bipolar or something, and the dude seriously needs lithium, but, for all that, he loves his kids.
“It’s weird but true. You’ll see what I mean when it’s time for Sunday lunch. They dote on them, it’s just not a regular way of doting.”
“And what’s that? Wasn’t like we were doted on either.”
She wafted a hand. “You know, what you see in shows and things. It’s not like that. But they’re a
devoted family. Dedicated to each other. It’s—” Her smile was sheepish. “It’s nice. I’m glad you get to experience that if nothing else.”
“Does it make a difference?”
“Knowing that people care about you?” Inessa nodded. “They were kind to me even before they knew me, even before they could see I’d fallen for Eoghan, and that he’d fallen for me... That takes good men. I’m happy for you, ma sœur.”
“Thank you, Inessa. That means a lot to me.” I smiled at her, seeing her sincerity and appreciating it wholeheartedly.
Her lips twisted a touch, before she whispered, “Maybe it’s a chance for us to get closer again?”
“I’d like to think so.” I didn’t reach over to grab her hand, just in case she tried to look at my palms, but I said, “I’ve always hated the distance between us. Physically and emotionally. Sisters should come first—even before husbands.”
Inessa blinked, then surprised me by nodding. “I’m still mad at you for leaving.”
“I know. I deserve that.”
“But,” she conceded with a wince, “after how I got married, I can’t really blame you.”
“What happened?”
She pursed her lips when the server popped up with our orders—my sandwich, her salad. As she stabbed a couple of lettuce leaves on a fork, she muttered, “I tried to back out of it, Father beat the shit out of me. Eoghan saw that I’d been beaten and... let’s just say, things didn’t get better after that.” She shrugged. “The upside was that I knew he was just crazy enough to take on a Pakhan because I belonged to him.” She shook her head. “It was surreal, but I knew I could trust him with my safety. If nothing else.”
“He beat you before the wedding?”
“He did.” Her jaw clenched. “You’re right. I’m glad he’s dead.”
“Me too,” I rasped, staring into her crystalline eyes and seeing the truth there—she didn’t believe the story Victoria had been fed.
“Did he hurt you?” she asked simply.
“He was going to,” I replied, just as simply.
“Well then... I’m sure he deserved his fate.”
I took a bite of my sandwich, swallowed it even though it felt like a lead weight, and nodded. “I’m sure he did.” I cut her a look. “Truly, is everything better? What happened after we spoke yesterday?”
Filthy Sex: The Five Points’ Mob Collection: Four Page 21