Shawn smiles. He’s got blood on his teeth. “You know how much money is in humans, man?”
I blink. He’s not saying what I think he’s saying.
He laughs. “A fuckload of money.”
“You’re trafficking people?”
“Shut the fuck up, man. They’re not people by the time I get them. They’re shells, robots conditioned to do what they have to do to survive. When I say a fuck load of money, I mean millions, bro. Millions each time.”
“You’re dealing with a buyer tomorrow? Directly?”
He eyes me, obviously expecting me to go a different way with my protest. “That’s how I do things. Get better trust and repeat business that way.”
“You’re taking a big risk, man. You know that’s how I ended up in prison.”
He knows. We both know.
I never touched the merch. Never got involved with the actual deal. Not until Shawn asked me to. And then assured me that it would be smooth. That he’d done his homework.
Loyalty. That’s what got me in cuffs and put me away for four years. Loyalty and blind trust.
“Like I said, it builds a trusting relationship with the client, and they want to continue to work with me.”
“Listen.” I dab at my lip with my tongue. I have to think quickly. “Maybe I can work out a better way to do that without you running the risk of getting caught. Let me get Ro out of here, put him up in a safe house so he can heal, and then I’ll come back and sort out a better plan with you.”
“This deal is happening.”
“I know, but I think there’s a better way. I know some guys, met them inside. Reduces the risk but won’t damage the trust. Let me work it out.”
Shawn smiles, not a moment of hesitation, then clamps me hard on the back. “See, man, I knew you’d come around. Yeah, okay, go ahead and get Ro the help he needs, but send Mac back once he’s settled. I’ll need him eventually. Finish your weekend with your sweet girl and keep the detective around, then we’ll sort out the next deal together.”
I nod. “You got it.”
My head is spinning as I walk back to the Charger. I pull my phone and dial Mac.
“You okay, Liam?”
“Yeah. Listen, I need you to take Ro up the coast to the cottage. See if you can’t get that nurse for hire to go with you. Pay her whatever she wants.”
“Shawn won’t let this go.”
“I got the all clear from Shawn. He wants you back for his deal, but he’s letting Ro go. Keep your head down and eyes open, got it?”
There’s a beat of silence. “How’d you manage that? Shawn pull you back in somehow?”
“Yeah, something like that. Listen, I’m heading up to the resort. Gonna return the detective’s car and get my things. I’ll meet you at the cottage by daybreak.”
“Shawn’s deal is going down at noon tomorrow.”
“You’ll make it in time.”
Mac sighs. “Okay, man. I’m on it.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. My brain is spinning with heavy thoughts, Maggie right there in the center. I have to keep her safe. I can’t get carried away with the fantasy of keeping her in my life. There’s just no way that I can protect her from my brother, not unless she’s totally out of my reach, too.
As I let out my breath, I drop my phone and crush it under foot then kick it so it’s right under the tires of the Charger. Better for her if she can’t reach me after things are done.
Once I’m in the car, I lean into the GPS and set the directions back to the resort.
If things are going to go sideways in my life, I’m going to make sure I’m the one turning the wheel.
Chapter Twenty
Maggie
I didn’t mean to drink as much as I did, but Uncle Bernard is persistent when he wants you to try one of his favorite cocktails. I’m not sloppy drunk, but I do feel very nice, and my body is comfortably numb. I’m laying on the bed, arms and legs spread, enjoying the plush mattress and expensive thread count. The only thing that would make things better is if Liam were back.
I frown. Right, Liam isn’t back. Earlier, like around ten or so, he texted me that he was going to be later than he realized, that everything was okay, and not to wait up for him. That was three hours ago, and now my eyes are way too heavy and my body way too relaxed to argue with him.
Maybe if I fall asleep he’ll slip in and wake me up, kiss me softly like he does sometimes, and we’ll make love again.
Wait. What?
I grasp onto that thought, my brain fuzzy with sleep and booze. Did we make love in the forest earlier? That’s what it was, right? Something deeper. Something more. That’s what it felt like to me. Like he wasn’t just touching my body or taking care of my physical needs, he was reaching into my chest and stroking my heart.
Right now I miss him. I want to wrap him up in my arms and talk to him about whatever it is that’s going on with his family. I want to show him how much I want to be a part of his life. We could have something here, right? I mean, it isn’t every day that you bring a stranger to a family reunion and everything just feels so perfectly compatible that it’s like the real thing.
The door lock clicks. I push myself up and regret it instantly as a wave of dizziness rolls over me.
“Liam?” I whisper, snaking my hand out to click the lamp on.
Warm light floods the room. He’s standing with his back to me, almost inside the bathroom.
“Turn the light off, Maggie.”
A chill runs down my spine. I catch a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. “What happened to your face?”
I jump up, fear burning away whatever booze is still clouding my mind. Liam sighs as I reach him, his shoulders slump, and he turns around.
“Oh fuck! What happened?”
There’s a split down the middle of his bottom lip that he keeps dabbing with his tongue. I reach up, gently touching the side of his face where a bruise is darkening his skin. There’s a cut just above his left eye that looks like it could use a stitch or two. “You need to see a doctor! I’ll go get Doug.”
He stops me from moving an inch, his hand on my arm. “No.” He locks eyes with mine, and I see a war raging there. “No one sees me like this.” He squeezes my arm like he’s reassuring me. “I’ll be okay. This isn’t the first time I’ve taken a hit to the face.”
I look down at his knuckles and gasp. They’re all busted up, split and torn. Bruising has already started. “Liam, what’s going on?”
“It’s not as bad as it looks.”
“It looks pretty bad.” I hold his hands up. Both fists are a mess. “We need to get you cleaned up so these don’t get infected.” My thoughts are in turmoil, my stomach queasy. Blood doesn’t bother me, but the idea of danger, that Liam is in trouble, yeah, that upsets me a lot.
I get the water running, making sure it’s a tolerable temperature before I move his hands in. “Soak for a minute.”
“Maggie—”
“Indulge me, Liam, please.” I look up at him, demanding he give me this.
He sighs. “We need to talk.”
“I’ll say.” I leave him in the bathroom and rummage through my bag. When I was a kid, my dad always made sure I had a first aid kit with me whenever I went anywhere, even if it was only for a few days. It’s a habit I never broke, even when nine times out of ten I never needed it.
I find the little black case then go back to Liam. He still has his hands soaking. The water has turned pink with his blood. He’s looking at me in the mirror, his eyes saying things I don’t really understand but I just know are not good.
“We need to talk.”
Whatever he needs to tell me, it’ll change everything. I can feel it.
“Are your brothers okay?” I unzip the kit, keeping my eyes down because I suddenly feel like I
need to keep things all business right now. Fix him up, take care of the immediate injuries. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
“They will be.” He grunts. “Ro and Mac will be, anyway.”
I soak a cotton ball with some peroxide. “This is going to sting.” I dab at the cut above his eye and wince along with him. He hisses a breath out. “Don’t you have three brothers?”
“Technically, yes.”
I dab the cut from side to side, making sure to be gentle even though I know this shit is like liquid fire. “Technically?”
“Ronan and Cormac, they have their issues, but they aren’t assholes. Shawn—he’s a selfish fuck—needs a lesson in humility. If I could cut him out of my life, I would.”
“He’s the one you went to jail for?”
Liam gives a tight nod.
I coat another cotton ball and lift it to his lip. “He do this to you?”
I’ve never known a violent family. Maybe I was more sheltered than I realized, but I didn’t even have friends growing up who experienced turmoil like this in a family.
“He hurt Ronan pretty badly. I called him on it, and we got into it.” He hisses again when I dab at his lip.
“Liam, this is more than a fight with your brother, right? I mean, you went to jail for this guy. There’s gotta be something more going on here.” Because this is unreal, this is beyond the norm. Families fight, sure, but not like this. Not unless there’s something more serious going on.
He stops my hand mid dab, his hand dripping with warm water. I look up at him and try to smile. I try, but his expression is telling me that whatever he has to say, I’m not going to like it.
“I came back to tell you… I need you to know… Fuck.” He takes a step back, runs his hand through his hair, then winces. It’s like he forgot about the state of his knuckles.
I snatch a towel from the shelf and wrap his hands up in it, letting the water and blood soak into the white terrycloth.
“Just say it.” I pull the cloth away and look over his hands. His knuckles are scratched up, bruises starting to darken his skin, a split over one knuckle that could probably use a stitch. By the looks of it, his brother got whatever he had coming to him.
I pull out a butterfly bandage.
“Maggie,” he croaks.
I look up at him, and his eyes are dark but not unreadable. “You can tell me. I want to know what’s going on.”
“I really wanted to give you a great weekend.”
“I know.” I smooth the bandage over his cut then lift his knuckles and kiss the tender spots. “Let’s go sit down.”
He nods and then follows me out to the bedroom. I scoot up to the top of the bed, wedging a pillow behind me. He sits on the end, looking uncomfortable. All that easy fun we were having before he left seems to have evaporated, and I’m reminded once again that I really don’t know this man very well at all.
There are miles between us right now.
He looks down at his hands, clenches his fists, and then shakes them out. “You know that story I told your sister? The one about seeing you walking down the street, smiling and bopping to your music?”
I nod, my heart warming at the memory. It was such a great story.
“It wasn’t a lie. I did see you that day, and I found you totally captivating.”
Warmth spreads through my chest, and I feel the tug on my lips, a smile rising. “You did?”
He’s nodding as he’s talking, but he’s not smiling. “I needed a place to chill, to get away from my brother. I followed you in there and just kept coming back. Creepy, right?” He gives an awkward laugh.
“Sweet, not creepy. It’s a coffee shop; you drank coffee. It’s not like you were hitting on me or anything. I mean, I thought you barely knew I was there.” Now I laugh awkwardly, feeling the heat rise to my face. “I’m not vivacious or flirty. I’m just the girl next door, you know? Cute or whatever.” I shrug.
He doesn’t move closer to me to reassure me. He just shakes his head. “I should have told you right from the beginning. I got out of prison four months ago.” He takes in a deep breath then lets it out slowly. “I did four years on a felony charge.”
My mouth drops, a lump forms in my chest, and I feel the blood drain from my head. “What?” When he said he did time, I kind of thought it was years ago, and I definitely assumed it wasn’t a felony.
“I didn’t lie about being a broker. I just wasn’t totally honest about the kind of brokering I was doing. My deals were legit…to a point. I wasn’t breaking big laws, mostly, wasn’t dabbling in dark shit. I had standards and principles. I’d turn down a deal if it meant crossing that line. My brother Shawn, he got it into his head that he could take my business to the next level. Wouldn’t take no for an answer, either. I underestimated how badly he wanted it. I underestimated how much he was willing to sacrifice.” He rubs his hand over the back of his neck. “It should have been him who did time, but it was me who got caught holding the bag, so to speak.”
“Why didn’t you tell someone the truth?” I choke out.
He looks at me in a way that makes me feel like I’ve just asked the stupidest question alive. And then I realize I have. Of course Liam would stay quiet.
“I’m not a snitch.”
No, I wouldn’t imagine him telling anyone what was really going on.
“Does my dad know?” It’s all clicking together, the weirdness when they first met, the intensity of those side conversations. “Did he know who you were already?”
Liam looks at me, doesn’t nod, doesn’t say a word, and I know it’s true, and that’s the worst part of this whole thing because suddenly I realize that not only has Liam not been truthful, but my dad has been lying to me the whole time. “You knew who my dad was before you even met him. And he knew you,” I croak. My heart feels like it’s crushing in on itself.
“I didn’t know until I met your mom at the coffee shop.” Liam clears his throat. “My brother has a file on your family. I didn’t think you were in it yet, but you were. He was going to send someone up here to keep tabs on your family this weekend, make sure the detective stayed put. I couldn’t let that happen. I needed to be the one watching over you.”
“You make it sound like you were doing me a favor.”
“I was doing it to protect you. I insisted I come because I care about you. I didn’t want you to get hurt in any way.”
Yeah, right. He came to watch over my father, not to save me from my judgmental family. All the things I’ve confessed to him. The insecurities I’ve shared. My stomach pitches and twists. “I feel like such a fool.” To even think we had a future together… He was probably just laughing at what a poor, stupid little failure I am.
And my dad—he knew who Liam was. He knew even when he was forcing me to come clean about our relationship. He wasn’t being honest with me, but he demanded that I be honest with him. Liam looks like he’s got some skeletons in his closet…
“Maggie…”
Liam shifts toward me, and I scramble off of the bed, my hands up. “Nope, no more of that.” I don’t like this feeling. Like I’ve been conned by not only Liam, but also my dad. “Why didn’t my dad tell me?”
“Your dad has a history with my family. A long history.” He clears his throat like the truth is too hard to speak. “He’s been gunning for my brother for years and—”
The final piece clicks into place. “You’re a Doyle?” My heart thuds painfully. “You told me your last name is Walsh.”
“That’s my mother’s maiden name. I use it sometimes instead.”
“But you’re a Doyle!” I start to pace. “I can’t believe this. Do you know what your family has done to my father and the rest of us? The time he’s spent working on surveillance, the time he’s spent away from us trying to get your brother…” My eyes are watering, but I’m not sad. Anger b
urns through me, and I clench my fists. “He put you away four years ago. He said you were innocent but that you were stubborn and refused to give him your brother.” The reality hits home even harder. “Is that why my father didn’t say anything to me? Is that why he let you stay?”
“That’s for him to answer.” Liam pushes to his feet.
I cross my arms. This is so much worse than I ever thought it could be.
“I can’t stay.” He clears his throat. “Not that I think you’d want me to, anyway.”
And the way he says that, like that is all he can expect from someone, from me, well, it makes me sad and annoyed…and frustrated.
“You can’t stay,” I agree, my eyes moving from his knuckles to his face, the wounds glaring there. I want him gone. Out of my sight. But I also want to take care of him, to make sure he’ll be okay.
He touches the side of his check and winces. “Yeah, it’d be hard to explain.” Then he laughs like that’s the worst of our situation. “I didn’t want to just disappear.”
“You could have just called me.” I know I’m being an asshole, but I can’t help it. He’s hurting me more than he can know right now. The fantasy boyfriend who was too good to be true. Of course it was all too good to be true.
“I wanted to see you.” He looks me steady in the eye, unflinching, unmoving. “This weekend…it’s been one of the best of my life. No joke. I wanted to thank you for that.” He smiles briefly, his eyes sparkling.
I want to go to him. To hug him. To kiss him and tell him it’s okay, I understand. But my arms are stuck, crossed and unmoving. Everything is tense. I can’t walk toward him. I want to but I can’t. I’m crushed and angry and a whole slew of other emotions I can’t begin to unravel right now.
“I have to get my brother out of town,” he says. “I’m so sorry, Maggie. I wanted you to have the best weekend of your life. Like most things lately, it didn’t turn out the way I’d planned, but I didn’t mean to hurt you—if I have, I mean. It wasn’t my intention.”
My heart feels like it’s caving in, like whatever has made it beat harder this weekend is evaporating, leaving just a husk of something I’m all too familiar with.
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