Cassidy raised an eyebrow. Liam was kind of cute, and his self-designation of protector was adorable.
“Are you hungry?”
Her stomach growled at the mere mention of food. Damn, her last meal had been early this morning before they left for the job. “Sure, I could eat.”
“Then let’s pick something up. You like kebobs?” She nodded, and he beckoned to her again. “Come on, there’s a terrific place a couple of minutes away, we can pick something up and take it back to my place.”
“Yours? I thought we were waiting for Ryker.”
“We are. But he’s picking you up from my house.”
This time he didn’t wait for an answer; instead he pulled open the side door and stepped out. Cassidy ran after him. She didn’t really have any choice, she had to trust this guy.
The streets outside were relatively quiet. In their four-minute walk to the kebob shop, they saw only one other person, a woman walking a dog.
The man in the takeout restaurant was leaning on the counter, bored out of his mind.
“Quiet night, Malik?”
“Fucking cops. I might as well close. What can I get you, Father?”
Liam ordered for them while Cassidy watched the street. She hoped they didn’t have far to go. Those fine hairs on the back of her neck were still standing at attention, and her palms were clammy. In the distance, sirens and flashing lights silhouetted a wall of townhouses at the far end of the street.
“Night, Malik. Take care.” Liam headed to the door with a large paper bag swinging at his side. Cassidy fell into step beside him, and was relieved when they crossed the road and stopped at a modest row house.
Once inside, the tension ran out of her shoulders. Even though it hadn’t taken long to get there, she was glad to be off the streets. Liam bolted the door and passed her in the narrow hallway. He pointed to a small lounge area off the hallway. “Make yourself at home while I unpack our food. Put on the TV or some music if you like.”
As Cassidy perused the CD collection, she couldn’t help thinking the priest’s musical tastes seemed a little avant-garde for a religious man. The CDs were mostly death metal or progressive metal bands with an odd mix of Bowie and Queen albums thrown in. She left the music where it was and strolled over to the enormous flat screen TV. The thing took up almost an entire wall. She cast her eyes around the room, searching for the remote and spotted it on a beat-up, brown leather couch. Flopping down into the squishy cushions, she pointed the remote at the screen. Cassidy idly caressed the worn, creased leather, admiring its warmth and character. At first sight, she’d thought it was an old castoff, but the sleek lines and texture of the leather seemed to say otherwise. Up close, it looked designer, and she wondered who’d want to buy a new couch that looked so old, but then she smiled—probably me!
The rest of the room followed in the same theme. There was an old-looking cabinet that the massive TV sat on made out of galvanized steel and rough-cut, dark-stained wood. It looked industrial, like it might have been salvaged from one of the warehouses she was outside of earlier.
“Here.” Liam handed her a plate of food and sat down beside her.
She bit back the uneasiness she felt at having him sit so close to her, when she realized the sofa was the only place to sit.
The gyros was deliciously salty and juicy. She attacked the pita-filled pouches with gusto, not realizing that she was that hungry until after she licked her fingers and discarded the empty plate on the low chest Liam used as a coffee table.
“That was amazing.” She felt more relaxed and placed her hands on her full stomach.
“Yeah, Malik’s gyros are the best. I’m getting a beer, do you want…”
“Yeah.” Cassidy’s eyes lit up. Ryker never let her drink, which was freaking hypocritical of him because she knew for a fact he’d been stealing beer since he was fourteen.
“…a soda?” Liam finished, a look of amusement on his face.
“Sure.” She sighed. “But I’d prefer a beer.”
“I’m sure you would, but you look underage, and I reckon your brother would skin me alive if I gave you one.”
“I’m twenty-one.”
“Nice try. Cola or orangeade?”
Cassidy narrowed her eyes at him. How did he manage to see through her? “Fine, either.”
He disappeared out of the room and returned with a bottle of Stella in one hand and a full fat cola in the other. The TV channel was now showing the news, and there were images of the crime scene at the docks filling the screen. Underneath, a headline, ‘Four seriously injured in gang warfare,’ scrolled along with a telephone number to call with information.
Yeah, like that was going to happen. Even if you weren’t affiliated with either the Devils or the Creed Brothers, no right-minded individual would want to be caught in the crossfire between the two. The police were on their own, which boded well for her. Cassidy’s only worry was that the Creed Brothers would find out who she was and her gang affiliation.
“Do they really think someone is stupid enough to call?” For a moment, she thought Liam was going to suggest she should.
“Why don’t we watch something else?” Liam’s brows were still drawn together as he switched the TV onto the Roku, and began trawling through Netflix. “What kind of stuff do you like?”
She laughed. “No one ever asked me that. Usually, I watch what Ryker and the other guys want.” Mainly high-octane thrillers with huge car chases, and even bigger body counts.
He grinned and handed the remote to her. “Then choose away, little lady.” He stretched out, sticking his feet up on the chest, and draping his arm along the back of the sofa.
Now she had the remote, Cassidy didn’t know what to choose. “Um, what do priests normally watch? Religious stuff?” She scrolled through the Netflix choices laid out under the ‘Because You Watched’ section, and her cheeks flushed with heat. The Story of O… Faster, Pussycat! …Kill! Kill! …Caligula?
“You watch porn?”
Liam shrugged. “In my defense, it’s classic porn.”
“But you’re a priest.”
“I’m also a man, Cassidy.” Liam’s voice lowered and took on a seductive tone.
For a minute, her cheeks grew even hotter. There was no denying that! Without that clerical collar, Liam would be one sexy male. All bad boy, I reckon. She was beginning to think this father was no angel. A fantasy image of him clad in leather, sitting astride a motorcycle, wearing a tight black touring metal band tee strained across his chest danced through her mind. Hmm, that fantasy image seemed more fitting than the squeaky-clean, God-bothering look the neatly-pressed collar and shirt portrayed.
As if Liam knew what she was thinking, he got up and peeled off the offending item of clothing and dropped it on the back of the couch. Her eyes went to his chest. She’d been right in her little daydream, the black T-shirt he wore underneath did indeed pull across his chest. But instead of a metal band logo, the tee was faded and plain, with a small V-neck that offered a glimpse of a partially tattooed collar bone. There was more ink on his biceps and forearms, too. Intricate designs ran from both wrists and disappeared under the short sleeves of his tee.
“Huh, are priests allowed tats?”
That cute grin made another appearance, as he took the remote from her hand. “Why would God care about that stuff? Besides, I got these before I was a priest.”
“Before? So how long have you been wearing that party outfit.”
“Not long, just over a year.” He pressed play on a movie, but Cassidy’s attention was solely on him.
She wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t always been a priest. After all, his looks, and laid-back attitude seemed refreshingly different to what she imagined a career-religion type to be. “So, what were you before? Did you go to God college or something?”
“There was no before.”
“What sort of answer is that?”
“An evasive one. You don’t want to know my past, Ca
ssidy.”
Oh, but I most certainly do, now! But she let it drop. She respected his privacy; after all, she wouldn’t want him to know about her past either. In the world she lived in, it was better that no one knew where you came from, or who you belonged to.
She settled back on the couch and immediately regretted it when she became aware that Liam’s arm was only an inch or so behind her head. Cassidy tried to concentrate on the screen. An old movie was playing, and the actors and actresses jabbered to each other in a foreign language as subtitles flashed discreetly at the bottom of the screen. The movie was beautifully shot. It had dark, noir-type scenes, and pin-sharp sound effects. It gave what was obviously another of Liam’s porn movies a classier, less seedy look. She averted her eyes as the two main characters stripped off their clothes and fell onto the bed.
The sex scene that followed was animalistic and passionate. Cassidy’s eyes drifted back to the screen, and she found she couldn’t look away. Oh, my, is it my imagination, or did it get hot in here? Cassidy slipped off her jacket and chanced a quick glance at Liam. His eyes were on the TV, and he sipped his beer, seemingly unaffected by the writhing and guttural noises coming from the screen. His gaze drifted to her, and for a moment, it seemed drawn to the low top she was wearing. She felt self-conscious of the skimpy, silky camisole. Jeez, it was too sexy to be wearing around a priest.
Liam turned back to the film, keeping his eyes glued on the screen. Cassidy thought she detected a pink spot on his cheeks, and felt secretly flattered that he’d been affected by her. The film turned out to be quite good. Although it was full of raunchy scenes, it delivered a heartbreaking tale of fated love that left her with a tear trickling down her cheek on more than one occasion.
As the titles rolled, Liam picked up a lock of her hair and wound it around his fingers. The gesture seemed distracted, as he didn’t look way from the screen, but carried on selecting another film.
By then, there were three empty bottles of beer on the make-shift table, and Liam had worked his way into a position where he had claimed most of the couch. He didn’t seem the least bit bothered that she was forced to lean against his body, or else balance precariously on the seat’s edge. His fingers left her hair, and wrapped around her shoulder, catching her by surprise. If this had been any other man than the priest, she would have suspected he was making a move on her. She stared at his hand and held her breath. Cassidy’s heart was galloping, and she could barely concentrate on the second movie. The man’s heat warmed her skin, and she wondered if he could tell he was affecting her.
Cassidy was not as innocent as her brother presumed. Her first kiss was with a dirty-blond-haired young man, six years older than her. She’d been just fourteen at the time, and the twenty-year-old guy had her flustered whenever she saw him. He was a member of the Devils and had been a longtime friend of Ryker and Falcon. The guy had always been in her life, but she hadn’t really noticed him that way until she started seeing him at a local community center where she hung out. All the girls there drooled after him, and away from the motel, she had to admit, he looked way more delicious than she had thought. For a while, she’d had the most ridiculous crush on him. But they’d only ever shared that one kiss, because the day after they’d locked lips, the guy disappeared, and she never saw him again.
She always wondered what happened to that boy. He was there one minute and gone the next. Kane said he was a traitor and had been dealt with in the Devils’ way. She shuddered and felt sad. For some reason, Cassidy struggled to recall the boy’s real name. The other kids called him Cam—short for The Chameleon, because he was particularly good at passing unnoticed wherever he went.
Cassidy glanced over at Liam. The priest kind of reminded her a little of that boy. Although that dark hair wasn’t right, there was something similar about his jaw line.
Her second encounter was three years and five months later, when she lost her virginity. That was to an adorable idiot named Darren, who swept her off her feet and two weeks later got himself shot full of holes in the same shootout her uncle was killed in. She probably should have felt more when he died, but the truth was they hadn’t known each other that long, and really, they’d been high on lust for the entire fourteen days of their relationship. The thing that attracted her to Darren was his confident and sexy manner. Nothing fazed him, and he wasn’t frightened of her, even knowing that Kane had marked her as his.
Their tryst had been risky, suicidal probably—because if Ryker, Falcon, or heaven help them, Kane Munch ever found out… She shuddered at the thought. If Darren hadn’t been killed, there wouldn’t have been a future for them, anyway. The only thing that kept Kane from claiming her already was that she was young and a virgin, a lie she was only too happy to live with to keep Kane away. Hell, Ryker reminded her of that every time a boy caught her eye.
Cassidy became aware that Liam was no longer looking at the TV screen but staring at her. What she saw in his eyes was very un-priestly. They smoldered and bored into her. His breathing had become shallow, and the way he looked at her made Cassidy think he wanted to devour her. There was a moment when the tension between them was almost palpable, and he leaned forward, placing his two hands gently on either side of her face. For a second, she thought they would kiss, and she anticipated his tongue, forcing her mouth open. Would he be rough or gentle? Did priests even know how to kiss? Yet something about the way this man looked at her told her he was no novice, and however he kissed her, she’d have to hang on for dear life.
But just as she inched closer to him, Liam flung himself across to the other side of the room, putting the chest he used as a coffee table between them, like he needed it as a physical barrier. He closed his eyes and groaned, then turned away from her and spread his hands out on the mantelpiece, looking down at his feet like he was trying to wrestle back some control.
Before either of them could address the elephant in the room, loud banging on the front door startled her.
“Get your things, that’ll be your brother.” Liam marched out of the room, leaving her to scramble back into her coat and wonder if she had totally misread the situation.
From outside in the hallway, Ryker’s low voice drifted into the living room. There were a few minutes of back and forth conversation between her brother and Liam, but she couldn’t quite make out what was said. A couple of minutes later, Ryker stuck his head around the door. “Get your stuff, we need to go.”
She scurried over to him. “I’m so sorry, Ryker, it was…”
“Not here. Come on.” He grabbed her hand and draped his arm around her shoulder as they left the house.
It wasn’t until she was in the car and Ryker was driving them home that Cassidy went back to that moment before Liam had leaped off the sofa. She put her fingers to her lips, and wondered what it would be like to be kissed by a priest. Shit, I’m going to Hell in a hand basket for this! If my life to date isn’t a good enough reason to be thrown into the fiery pit, then fantasizing about kissing a man of the church had to be! But the illicit thoughts that should have scared the hell out of her had a different affect. It stirred something inside her. Desire wasn’t a feeling Cassidy had experienced much, but in that moment, it flooded her system and she wanted Liam more than anything else in the world.
Cassidy looked in the side mirror as they drove through the city. The dirty, cold streets were all she’d known all her life. They were her home, she understood them, knew how to navigate them, and she understood how to survive. Good and bad, Cassidy liked the grungy environment. She was a child of it, and her future was destined to keep her there.
But for a moment, a sense of melancholy settled in, and as she sat silently in the passenger seat, growing hungry for a different view—or perhaps it was a whole different life that she craved. One that wasn’t so dirty… not so dismal… not so mean. A life where a gang girl, falling for a priest, wouldn’t seem like the stuff of old movies.
Chapter 4
Liam lay awake lo
oking at the ceiling, with only one thing on his mind—and in true life’s shitty fashion, it was the only thing that should not be on his fucking mind.
But there he was, with Cassidy’s scent in his nostrils, and it was driving him crazy—again.
He threw back the covers from his bed and slung his legs over the side. Wringing his hands, he debated whether getting drunk would help anesthetize the rampant thoughts in his head. He’d been so close to kissing her, and bringing his entire past full circle.
Fuck, what is wrong with me? It wasn’t like Cassidy was the only woman I’ve kissed. At twenty-four years old, Liam wasn’t a stranger to women in his bed—he hadn’t always worn this damn stupid collar, and even though he’d been hiding behind it for just over a year now, he’d not exactly honored the whole celibate priest thing.
But Cassidy was the first woman he’d wanted, even though he knew he could never have… and he’d known that for a very long time.
He padded through to the kitchen, wearing nothing but the ink that covered his arms, collarbone, and back. As he poured a whiskey, he stared out the back of the modern row house at the tidy suburban-style garden. His fake garden, that went with his fake house, and his fake life.
He slung back the shot and poured another. As he placed the bottle back down on the counter, his eyes drifted to the heavy black band around his wrist. He flipped his wrist and ran his finger across the inside of it. Maybe it was his imagination, but he swore he could still feel the other tattoo beneath it. Would others feel it too? Can I ever be rid of the damn thing?
Liam had a lot of ink, but he had only one piece that had been covered, and he’d had to travel halfway across the country to make that happen. He chugged down the second shot and turned away from the window. Leaning back against the counter, he rubbed his face with his hands. Liam was pretty sure Cassidy didn’t remember him. But I sure as hell remember her! Her taste, her smell… it felt like it was only yesterday. Except it wasn’t. It was closer to six years ago, so how could he remember every damn detail. A part of him hoped Cassidy clung to the same moment he did, but she hadn’t even shown signs of recognizing him. And honestly, it needed to stay that way. The past was finally gone, and he’d worked damn hard to eradicate it.
The Devil's Own- Cassidy's Story Page 3
