The picture he’d found showed highlights in her hair. She wore it swept up with what looked like diamond-studded pins. She wore a gown that probably cost more than he made in an entire year. And she stood next to her parents at a charity gala.
She wasn't coming back.
It had been three days since he'd seen the announcement from the charity ball. Three days it took him to bring it into the bar and show it to Dad Doyle.
"She looks great." The older man offered it up with a sad smile, clearly missing his daughter. The tone in his voice told Ronan that he was just as resigned to Tierney not coming back.
Ronan couldn't blame her. Her wealthy family could give her far more than he ever could. With Elliot gone, there was no reason for her not to stay in New York.
It was time to stop waiting, Ronan told himself. So, instead of sipping, he tossed all of the whiskey back. Then he smacked the glass onto the bar, just shy of hard enough to break it, and motioned to Dad Doyle to pour him more.
There was only a slight raise of an eyebrow questioning if that was what he really wanted. But it was time to start forgetting Tierney.
For a moment, as he shot back the second glass, he thought maybe he was falling into old patterns, like he had when he'd lost Siorse and Paddy. But he quickly told himself that he didn't care if this was what it took to let go of her. He’d lost too much to hold back now.
Emptying the glass quickly, he smacked it onto the bar top again, this time a little too hard. He was surprised there were no cracks in the glass as he motioned to Dad Doyle again.
The man hesitated, but as he gave in and poured, he said the words, "You can't go on like this. I understand, but this is the last one."
"Fine." Ronan figured there were other places to get drinks. He'd sober up in time for his shift, he told himself. Still he nursed this drink a little more slowly.
As he held the phone in front of him, he looked over the picture of her yet again. He'd never seen her in a dress like that. She'd worn her hair in a ponytail or down around her shoulders. He'd not seen it in some fancy updo that had probably taken hours.
In the image, she smiled and held a crystal glass of champagne—another thing that had probably cost more than he could ever afford. He tried not to be morose as, behind him, the bar door opened. Dad Doyle greeted new customers as Ronan tried to slow his roll through the drink. Still, he hit the bottom faster than he'd intended. More people had come in while he moped.
It was late in the day. He had slept late after a rough shift and then come directly here to drink. He should probably order food, but he considered trying to get Dad Doyle to pour him just one more.
He was staring into the bottom of the empty glass when he heard the voice.
"Grandpa!"
The first thing Ronan saw was Dad Doyle's face lighting up as he yelled, "Sean!"
Ronan was already swiveling on the barstool as Dad Doyle leaped over the bar in a move worthy of a man forty years his junior. Ronan's feet hit the floor as dad Doyle's did, and he tried to stand up, but he was more than a little shaky—no food and three drinks and all that.
Behind Sean stood Tierney.
Her hair had obviously been cut by some high-class salon the likes of which didn't exist in Redemption. He could still see the same highlights he'd spotted in the photo. They didn't look like the old Tierney, but they brought out the green in her eyes and the red in the rest of her hair.
Her hands rested on Sean's shoulders as her father reached down and swept the child up in a huge hug. He rotated a joyous full three sixty before he enveloped Tierney in his arms, too. "You came home!"
"I did," she said with a huge smile that melted Ronan's heart even though she wasn't saying it to him. "I finally got everything cleared up."
As Dad Doyle took a big breath and stepped back with Sean still in his arms, Tierney's eyes caught Ronan's.
"I didn't think you'd be back," was all he could say. He considered stepping forward, but his legs were shaky from the whiskey and she'd made it clear before that she was leaving him. "How long are you visiting for?"
She grinned. "I'm home for good."
How would he survive with her here if she didn’t want him?
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Tierney stood planted where she was, letting Sean chatter on to her father, as the two of them stepped away. Her dad seemed to know that she needed a moment here.
Ronan wasn't moving toward her. So she decided that she would. If he hated her, and didn't want her back, she would step away. But it would be better to know now, rather than believing—hoping—that she might be able to salvage something.
"You left," he said again, the accusation a mild line of undertone.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to explain and did a crap job. "I couldn't let you take the rap for the murder. None of this is on you. How is your mother?"
The words all fell out in a jumble. Even though she'd had a plan for when she walked in, it had been that she would say hello to her dad and later she would find Ronan. After she'd made the initial rounds with her parents, she would explain everything to him. Instead, she had stepped into the bar only to come face to face with the man she wanted more than anything. All her thoughts had scrambled.
"My mom is doing really well. They patched her right up, and aside from some scars—which she's refusing to have removed—she's basically back to her old self." He said it without giving Tierney any hints about how he felt about her.
She wished she could say she was back to her old self, too. But the last two months had been emotionally exhausting. She needed a vacation from everything for a while. Motioning him back to the barstool that he'd stepped a few feet from, she waited until he sat, then took the spot beside him. She could only hope. "Will you do me a favor and listen?"
Though he nodded, his expression stayed closed. She wasn't sure how much of it he would actually hear, but she had to try. With a deep breath, she attempted to follow her original plan. "None of us here has the money to fight the Vander clefs. But my parents—my original parents—do. Also, I thought Sean should meet them."
She looked away from Ronan, her eyes glancing into the corners of the bar. She was ashamed of the people she'd come from, and ashamed she'd had to go back begging. But she turned her focus to Ronan again. "I hoped maybe if Sean saw them, he would recognize what a good thing he has in the Doyles."
"They helped you out?"
She nodded her head yes, but added, "They didn't want to. They didn't want any kind of legal battles with the Vander clefs. In fact, they suggested that I come right back here and stay hidden. They'd already fabricated a story ten years ago about how I'd run off to Europe and married some kind of Baron."
She watched as Ronan's eyebrows lifted at that, and she agreed. In her old life, she wouldn't have thought anything of such subterfuge. But now, now that she'd seen how real families worked, she understood his surprise.
"So they didn't help?"
"They did," Tierney said. "Because I blackmailed them into it."
That put some shock across his face. She was glad to see he was paying attention. He looked just a little drunk, but she kept going.
"I told them I would go to the media and tell my story exactly as it happened. How they pushed me toward Elliot when I was fourteen. How they sent me back to him, despite the fact that he abused me. And how, in the end, when he blackmailed them, they caved instantly." She paused. "It wouldn't be damning enough to land them in jail, but it would have killed their social standing. They would not let that happen. I held it over their heads the whole time."
She stopped, waiting for him to ask something, but his mouth and his expression remained shuttered.
She pressed on. "In return for my demands, my mother made me tell a story about divorcing the Baron and coming home with his child."
Tierney waved her hands around, trying to recount all of the back and forth she'd been through with her parents. Then she turned to Ronan, wanting to reach out and take his hands, but
they weren't on the bar. They were in his pockets. His shoulders hunched in, his anger at her leaving still clear.
"It's over now," she said. "All charges are officially dropped. The Vander clefs are still angry, but they can't come after me. And I made sure they can't come after you or your family again either."
Ronan nodded, maybe it was an acknowledgment or a thank you. She didn't know.
A silence fell between them and Tierney knew it was up to her to fill it. She'd been the one who left. "I'm back here for good. I'm officially Tierney Doyle. One of the other things I blackmailed them about was ..." she paused and laughed. "They have more money than they know what to do with and I blackmailed them for everything I could possibly get!"
That made Ronan's head snap up.
She smiled. "They gave me my birth certificate and officially changed my name. They're paying for all kinds of vacations for Sean and private school for him if I want. Also all of his college. And medical school for me! I'm going to start applying to undergrad."
Ronan's face lit up at that, his happiness at her excitement letting her know that he wasn't as cold or uncaring as he appeared. "I only just now figured out that you didn't go to college because you couldn't."
She nodded, then she took another breath and added, "I made them give me enough money for a small house."
This time Ronan laughed. "It sounds like you could have blackmailed them for enough money for a large house."
"I could have." She didn’t laugh. Her heart squeezed as she realized it was time to put all her cards on the table. "I don't want a big house. Just enough for a family."
She laid her hand out on the bar, palm up, waiting for his. But he didn't move. She kept trying. "For me and Sean. Another child, maybe two. Once I'm done with medical school."
He nodded at her. "It sounds like a good idea."
Was he being purposefully obtuse? Or did he just feel the need to make her say it?
"I want a house big enough for you and me. I want college and med school and I'm going to do it, but I want us, too. I'm finally free to be part of us."
This time, when he looked at her, there was hope in his face, so Tierney kept plunging forward. "I want all of it with you. I don't know what kind of shit we're going to get because I was born Emily Gallagher. Because of everything that Elliot rained down on this town because of me. Because I'm the little sister of your late wife. I don't know."
As she shrugged at it all, his hand came out, at last lacing his fingers through hers, squeezing tightly, as he cut her off. "None of that matters. What matters is us."
Her heart bloomed, thrilled that he thought there was an us.
"You and Sean could stay with me at my place until we find something new."
She nodded quickly, not wanting to turn down any offer from him. Even if it meant living in the house that her sister had decorated, that her sister had cheated on her husband in. Yet Tierney thought it was a small concession to have what she’d wanted so badly for so long.
“I missed you so much these last two months. I didn't know if it would work. I didn't know if it would take years to get out of all of the legal assaults the Vander clefs threw at us. I honestly think my mother and Mrs. Vander clef had a little heart to heart about the damage my story could do to both families—"
Her ramblings were cut off by Ronan's hands on her face, pulling her forward, his mouth covering hers in a kiss she'd only prayed for. She sank into the feeling of him, of knowing that she was finally home.
Kissing him for all she was worth, Tierney hoped it said everything she couldn't. She only vaguely heard the cheers from the bar behind her.
He whispered against her mouth, "Tierney Doyle, I will always be yours."
She smiled at him, knowing her heart was in her eyes. If he only knew how long she'd wanted him, dreamed of a life with him. She’d always been his.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
“No, I’m not getting on it!” Talia tried not to yell it into the phone. There were too many people around and getting into that contraption was…
Obnoxious.
Embarrassing.
Pure terror inducing.
“Can you please come down to see me?” She pretended she was baking and added a diabetes-inducing amount of sugar to her voice.
“Honey, it’s too windy to go outside.” The building manager was not going to come to her. Seriously? Stairs were likely nothing to her.
If Talia didn’t hand in the check now, the rent for Baby Cakes would be late. The manager’s office was on the second floor of the storefront building. It had been listed as handicapped accessible, with an elevator. It turned out, the “elevator” was actually an open-to-the-elements chair lift that rode—horror-inducing—up the outside of the building.
It was the lift or the rent. Honestly, Talia considered just not paying it. The manager would walk her two good legs right down to the counter in three days when she didn’t get it—windy or not.
Looking up, she considered whether she could head to the stairs and make it up on her own two not good feet. She could not.
“Thinking about scaling the side of the building?”
Whipping her head around as her heart kicked up, Talia hoped color didn’t show in her cheeks. Then she reminded herself, that was an upside: she could just claim it was a ‘condition’ and most people didn’t know enough to know she was lying. “Hi, Rex. Hi, Hannah!”
He had his almost-four-year-old tucked up on one arm like she didn’t weigh anywhere near as much as she did.
“That thing looks pretty decrepit.” He seemed to zero in on the real problem pretty fast.
She liked that about him… maybe a little too much.
“Yeah, the building said handicapped accessible when I signed in. This is…”
“Terrifying.”
She agreed.
“Hannah and I will ride up with you.”
Talia turned to see his smile—that damn smile—was the one that kept making her think things. “Why in God’s name would you climb on that death trap if you don’t have to?”
“The company.” The reply was fast and genuine and her heart flipped over. Then he added, “Also, it’s inspected, and I know the guy who does it. It’s terrifying but it won’t actually kill you. It’s quite safe.”
Still holding Hannah like it was nothing, Rex skirted the contraption and on the other side and pointed to the wall. She could see him fairly well through all the open space. The device wasn’t much more than scaffolding and a chain. “There’s a certificate right here.”
Talia didn’t comment. Just sat quietly and waited.
Rex tiptoed back across the narrow ledge until he was at her side again. When he saw her sitting there in her slim-for-a-chair but still bulky wonder-machine, his eyes opened wide. “Well! That was the dumbest fuc—” he bit off the word, probably because of Hannah. “That’s just stupid putting it there!”
Where no person who actually needed it could see the inspection certificate.
If Talia banged her head on the wall each time life suggested it, her head would be flat. But that was the last thing she needed, so she just nodded at him.
“I’ll still ride up with you.”
She couldn’t help smiling and agreeing. The butterflies in her stomach made her do it. Also, the rent needed to be paid and she wanted a few minutes alone with this man. Well, him and Hannah Bean, who was an absolute doll.
He held the door—it was merely the outline of a gate—open for her, and she backed the chair in, watching for his toes. In a moment, he was crowded beside her.
The wind plucked at her hair and drifted his scent over her as the machine lurched and jolted to a start. She would have had a heart attack if he hadn’t been right next to her.
“Hold her hand, Daddy! So she isn’t scared!” Hannah was pointing.
Talia almost sighed in disgust at herself. She was gripping the arm of her chair tightly enough to break something. As Rex grinned and held out his fre
e hand toward her, the contraption lurched again.
She grabbed him and held on and told herself it was romantic.
It was also slow as … Lord, if snails were racing them up the side of the building, they would have crossed the finish line and had time to choreograph a victory dance before Talia and crew arrived.
She took a deep breath and tried not to squeeze Rex’s hand too tight. She was trying for snark but wasn’t sure she made it. “My hero.”
“Gladly.”
It was soft, but once again genuine. The word sent her back to the time the dishwasher broke at Baby Cakes and the kitchen flooded. Rex had saved her then. She’d been feeding him free cupcakes ever since, so he’d been there when one of the patrons slung the word “gimp” when she was out of maple bacon.
Rex had snapped, the kind of reaction that wasn’t calculated or contrived. He’d bodily removed the man to a round of applause from the patrons. Then he’d returned to the counter and placed his order for Hannah’s birthday cake like nothing had happened. And here he was, playing her hero again.
They were getting close to the top, and Talia was wondering if she would get to hold his hand on the way down, too, when Hannah pointed into the distance, “Look, Daddy!”
They all looked up.
The wall of thick, black cloud that rolled over the land was something she’d only read about. “Holy shit!”
She shouldn’t have said it, not in front of Hannah, but even Rex was stunned by the speed with which it moved. She could see the rain pouring in the near distance, and it was headed right at them.
“We have to turn this around,” Rex said, but he didn’t look down at her or at the control button. He was still fixated on the storm that was too close and approaching far too fast. “Now.”
Thank you for reading Down in Flames! Follow Talia and Rex in From the Ashes next. Coming soon!
Until then, check out the boys in the band…
JD can’t tell Kelsey yes. She can’t tell him no.
Down in Flames (Wildfire Hearts Book 5) Page 23
