by D W Marshall
I don’t miss the glance they exchange. “Pierce has gone into town on an errand, seeing as you never planned to leave the house again. I will fetch Miles at once,” Da says.
The driver pulls the sedan in front of the house. Miles opens the door for me and I slide in. He slides into the back seat with me. “The Coffee House, please, Aiden,” I instruct the driver, who I secretly think my folks planted as a third bodyguard. No way a guy with that many muscles is only driving the car.
The car ride is quiet. I am full of excited energy and I fidget in an effort to release some of it. When we pull up to the coffee shop, Aiden waits in the car, while Miles and I head inside. It is a rainy day in April, with loads of fog just like I like.
I turn to him. “How do you take your coffee?”
“Two creams, two sugars,” he says.
I buy his coffee and mine and motion for us to take a seat at an empty table. He looks uncomfortable with the idea, but I don’t let him say no.
“Where are you from?” I ask when we settle into our seats.
“Military brat, so a bit of everywhere,” he says.
I take a sip of my coffee. “Thanks for looking out for me,” I say.
He offers me a soft smile and nods. I know it’s his job, but I like that he doesn’t feel the need to tell me so. “Hey, I’m sorry about what happened with the douche. I can’t remember his name so that is what I will call him, if that is okay with you.”
“It’s fitting.”
We don’t say much else for a while, but the silence is killing me. I know this is not a date. He is doing his job. Which explains why his head seems to be on a swivel, always assessing.
“How old are you, Miles?”
“Twenty-five,” he says. All business.
“Listen, I know you are here to do a job, to keep me safe. I don’t know, I have no one to talk to. I just thought…”
“I’m sorry for being so distant. I think it’s for the best though, because if we became friends, it would make it very hard to protect you, Miss O’Malley.”
“Maeve. Please just call me Maeve,” I say.
“Fine then, Maeve. When I took the job I had no idea that you would be so beautiful, and you are in a very vulnerable place in your life. The more friendly and acquainted we become, the harder it is to keep you safe. I drop my guard once and that could mean your safety. We need to keep things professional. Deal?”
The smile that crosses my face is one I couldn’t suppress if I wanted to. Until this moment I hadn’t considered my bodyguard as anything but that. Looking at him now, I see that he is so much more than that. He is damn hot. Brown skin that is creamy and smooth. Brown eyes too, but with a depth to them that takes you in and traps you. And his body—well, damn. He is sculpted perfection, stashed in over six feet of muscled body. Maybe it’s the Blank Over that is making me behave this way. But I like it. I never considered dating someone from another race. Not that I cared—our folks always taught us that a person isn’t their color; the skin is just the covering for the soul inside.
Hell, look at Keegan, blond and blue, covering the devil himself. “Deal.”
But he’s right, we should keep this professional.
“Thanks for the coffee,” he says.
“Welcome.”
We make it to the car but I am still not ready to go back home. “Can we check out some good old Dublin craic before we head back?”
He nods.
The driver takes us to the Temple Bar District. We don’t walk into any pubs. Instead, we walk around and I people-watch. I could get lost in the small crowd of people. It feels liberating and for the first time I feel free. Nameless faces who don’t know me, don’t know what I’ve been through. To them I could be anyone. I twirl a couple of times, arms out at my sides, my face to the heavens. Miles watches me carefully, while watching everyone else.
“Maeve! Is that you?” A voice calls from behind us.
I turn to the voice, noting Miles’s protective stance, leaving nothing to chance. “Oh my goodness, Ronan!”
He wraps me into a tight hug. I can feel the tension from Miles, who is not happy with the contact. It’s not like Ronan is going to sink a knife into my gut while he is hugging me, but I guess Miles doesn’t know that. All he knows is that he is protecting the most unfortunate girl on this planet.
We separate and I hear Miles let out a breath.
“Where have you been, love? You vanished into thin air!”
I choose not to answer his question. “This is Miles.” I introduce them and they shake hands. Of course they size each other up, as if there is a reason to. “Ronan and I went to high school together,” I tell Miles.
“How have you been?” Ronan asks.
“Fine. Good.”
“Keegan? How is he?” he asks before obviously swapping glances between Miles and I.
Can you say gut punch, kick in the balls, if I had them. “We broke up.” I look down. The Blank Overs suddenly ooze out of my system at the mention of Keegan’s name. I will have to remember to carry them with me. In a flash flood, I remember everything I was doing so well at forgetting, and I am no longer on the craic-filled streets of my beloved Dublin, but in the enchanted garden with Keegan, getting my heart ripped out. I vaguely hear Miles say something about Keegan being a douche and excusing ourselves. We turn to walk. Well, Miles does. I can’t seem to make my feet move.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
Hot tears blaze down my cheeks, tears of pain and shame, because I know what this means as I remember. “No man will ever want me after what I have been through. I might as well join a convent because I am used and damaged. I didn’t ask for this, Miles.”
He breaks the rules and wraps me in a caring embrace. He holds me for what feels like forever, right in the center of the sidewalk, forcing people to walk around us. “You are beautiful and, from what I can see, smart. And no man should blame you for something beyond your control. If any man judges you for that, then he is not a man. He is a fool. You deserve the world. God knows you have been through enough, and I will never let anything happen to you again,” he promises.
I nod repeatedly. I walk with him toward the car. His arm is around me, but not in a romantic way, for support. I am not exactly sure-footed at the moment. When Aiden sees us he exits the car immediately. I guess Miles’s arms around me indicates a problem.
“Miles?” He glances around with alert eyes. I knew he wasn’t just a driver.
“Everything is fine. Just an unexpected run-in with an old friend,” he says.
I ease myself into the back of the sedan. Miles gets in on the other side. Again, I fold myself into the tiniest ball I can manage. I want to disappear. I know that Miles said I am deserving and that there is a man out there who won’t judge me, but what if I never find him?
I must fall asleep on the way back home because I am awakened to Miles tapping me. I don’t speak. Instead I unfold and drag myself out of the car. “Thanks,” I say in his direction.
“Don’t mention it,” he says and follows me to the front door. He comes inside with me, always working, but I guess if kidnappers can break into my car and wait for me, they can certainly be waiting in an empty house.
When we cross the threshold we learn that mine is full. Great. My grandparents on my mother’s side, Ma’s sisters and my da’s brother are all inside waiting for me. Why are they all here?
“Maeve!” Someone shouts and all heads turn toward me. I freeze.
Within seconds I am being passed around and hugged in a barrage of loving family members. We are a lovey, touchy brood. I manage to get through all of them before I excuse myself to my room, my excuse that I need to grab something. Not a lie. I need to take another Blanko, which is what I have decided to call them. I am in near panic by the time I reach my room. I am not ready for a homecoming party. What have my parents told them about my disappearance? I can’t. I pop a Blanko and wait for it to kick in. Of course there is a knock at my door. An
d just like a true family member of mine they don’t wait for me to answer or give them permission. It’s my Aunt Karen, Ma’s youngest sister.
“Sorry to disturb you, love, but I wanted a chance to tell you how much I love you, dear. If you ever need anything or someone to talk to, you call me anytime, you hear?” she says. She turns to leave after saying her piece.
“Would you have tried to escape? Am I an idiot because I didn’t?” I can’t bring myself to look her in the eyes. This is the question I fear everyone who finds out what happened to me is going to ask. “I mean, for an entire year I stayed and obeyed, in hopes that I would be released as promised, but I never tried to leave. He said if we tried to leave he wouldn’t hurt us, you see. He said he would hurt our families, but I think people are going to judge me for not trying to fight back or escape.”
She makes her way back to me and takes a seat on my bed, gesturing for me to sit with her. I follow her and sit. My auntie scoots in very close. She looks so much like my ma and me—fair, freckled skin, thin build, green eyes. The only difference is her red hair is curly. “I want you ta listen ta me, Maeve…everybody wants to poke around in yar head and tell you what you should’ve done, but not a one of them has been through half of what you have, you hearin’ me? Of course they can say you should’ve escaped, but until they are sittin’ there faced with the same decision as you were, they can’t say shite, you hear, not a damn word about it!” Her face is red with anger. “Remember my BASE jumping fiasco?”
I nod and giggle. We were all there with video cameras, ready to film her epic adventure.
“I wanted to do it so bad. It looked so liberatin’ and freein’, until I made it to the jump site and nearly shat me pants… Looks a lot different when it’s staring you in the face. You tell em’ I said so. You’ll be alright, my love. You’re stronger than you give yarself credit for. I know because my blood flows through yar veins. Now, I’m gonna leave you, and I’m gonna announce downstairs if one bloody fecker says a word to you about why you didn’t this or didn’t that, I’m gonna knock their lights out!” She kisses my forehead and walks out the door.
I can only smile at the thought of Karen beating someone up. If anyone would do it, she would. She says I am strong like her. I wish that were true.
It takes about twenty minutes for the Blanko to kick in. When it does, I make my way down the stairs to mingle with my family. Miles and Pierce are never far. Pierce spends most of his time assessing the room, while Miles spends his watching me. The attraction I feel toward him is palpable.
I wish I’d had access to these pills when I was in The Chamber. It would have been nothing. I feel amazing, like I can conquer the world. As a matter of fact, I know I can. First place I want to start is by calling my dipshit ex-fiancé. I politely excuse myself and make my way into Da’s office. I pick up the phone and dial his cell—I know it by heart, of course.
Ring, ring, ring. “Hello?” Keegan answers.
His voice shouldn’t bring about the emotional feelings that it does, but it does. I have held on for a year to the idea of him comforting me when I returned home. The idea of his voice soothing me when a nightmare claimed my sleep.
“Hello?” he repeats.
“It’s me.”
“Maeve?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you calling me?”
“Just to talk.”
“What is left to discuss? I thought you understood.”
“I thought that maybe after a couple of weeks you would have time to reconsider.”
There is a long pause on the other line. I wait for him to respond.
“If I haven’t tried to reach out to you in as much time, I would think that it was obvious I have not reconsidered anything. Please don’t call me anymore.”
The line goes dead.
It really is over. I plop down on Da’s office chair. This time I don’t cry. The Blanko seems to protect me from the pain, from reality.
“You okay?”
I look up to find Miles standing in the doorway.
I shake my head. I am anything but okay. It is a tough pill to swallow when you realize that the guy you thought hung the moon is actually cruel and unfeeling.
“May I?” he asks, gesturing to the seat across from the desk.
I nod.
I dare a look up at him. He is gazing into my eyes, but they aren’t expecting. “You must think I’m an idiot for calling him. I knew it was over before I called, but I needed to see for myself if he really meant it.”
“You’ll get no judgment from me. I am not in your shoes, so it’s not my place to say what you should do or how you should feel.”
Sounds like he has been talking to Karen. “Thanks.”
We sit in silence for a long time, but not uncomfortable silence. This is peaceful silence. Safe and peaceful.
I break it anyway. “How did you find yourself in this business? With your looks you could be a model or an actor,” I say.
He breaks a smile and a small laugh escapes his very soft, full lips. “Thank you for the compliment, but acting and modeling have never been an aspiration of mine. I mentioned that I grew up in a military family. My older brother is a Marine, my younger brother is an Airman. My father spent most of his career in the Marines too, but retired and fell into high-level security—politicians and dignitaries. That is how he met your da, as you call him. They have been friends for some years. After six years in the Marines, I joined him protecting important people. For the past two years I have protected a couple princesses, a prince, a few high-profile celebrities, and now you. I believe you fall into the category of royalty.” He smiles.
Oh, that is a heart-melting smile. Deep dimples make his handsome face more so. Any girl would be lucky to be on the receiving end of a smile like that.
“Well, my claim is pretty far down the line. It’s hardly worth mentioning or adding to my resume,” I admit.
I can’t help the warm blush that accompanies the smile that is plastered across my face. He smiles back at me. Why are we two goofballs?
“You have a beautiful smile, Maeve. I wish you felt good enough to do it more. I want that for you.”
“Me too.”
“So your parents say you grew up in the States,” he says.
“Yep, until age ten. That’s why my accent isn’t as strong as everyone else in the family. My folks and the boys were all born here. I was born in New York. My ma hadn’t planned on me being born in the U.S. but I came a month earlier than expected, so there wasn’t really a choice. Dual citizenship has its perks. We lived in New York, D.C., and California. My da did foreign-relations-type stuff. I even went to a couple American private schools. Did they tell you what happened to me, why we moved back here?”
Miles shakes his head. “They were vague. Just that you had suffered a tragedy when you were a young girl,” he says.
“I’m not surprised they didn’t tell you. Da blames himself. I was nine when it happened,” I say.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I understand,” he says.
“I think I do.”
Miles stands up. He picks up the chair he was sitting in and brings it around to where I am. His close proximity is comforting.
“I was in grade school, grade four to be exact. The bell rang for the end of the day and I walked out to my family’s SUV. It was parked in the usual spot. I opened the door and hopped in just like I would on any other school day, and said hi to our driver Samuel, only it wasn’t him. I don’t know what happened to Samuel, but he wasn’t driving our car. The doors made that locking sound. I tried to open the back door but it wouldn’t budge. I may have been nine but I knew something was wrong. Long story short, I was taken for ransom. I wasn’t hurt, per se. My mouth was taped, I was tied up and blindfolded. I was scared to death. I was with the kidnappers for five days, before my da traded me for money. We moved here soon after. My folks felt like I would be safer at home. Turns out nowhere on earth is s
afe for me. So when I was taken a second time, well my folks weren’t taking any risk of it happening a third time. That’s why I have you. Well, you and Pierce…and Aiden.”
He smirks and nods at my recognition of Aiden as a bodyguard too. “I’m sorry,” he says.
“It’s just my unfortunate luck,” I say.
“There is a saying I use a lot. ‘Luck favors the prepared.’ Maeve, the things that have happened to you don’t mean you are lucky or unlucky. It just means you were in a situation you weren’t prepared to deal with. I think it’s great that your dad hired us, but I also think you should be able to protect yourself. Stand up.”
I do.
“Turn away from me.”
I do.
He grabs me from behind, just like a kidnapper might—arm around my neck and hand covering my mouth. “Break free.”
I stand there for a full minute, distracted by the feel of his body so close to mine. He smells divine, an earthy, musky scent that works in perfect blend with his skin. His skin is warm and inviting. Being pressed up against his chiseled form is so much better than seeing it. I remember the task at hand and begin to wiggle free. Well, try to, to no avail. He lets me go.
“What happened?” he asked.
I turn to face him. “I couldn’t get free. You are too strong,” I protest.
“Strength actually has nothing to do with it. Next time, you have to react the second you feel me grab you because that is your best opportunity, before I have a chance to secure my grasp on you. You are going to step out to the side with your right leg like this.” He steps out wide with one. I can’t tell if it’s his right or left leg because I am facing him, and that always confuses me. “At the same time, lean forward in one move. I will be off balance and I will flip over and fall, giving you a chance to run. Later I will teach you how to defend yourself so you don’t have to run, but until you master the basics that is your best bet. Do you want to continue?”
I nod.
We move from behind the desk and into the center of the office for more room.
Miles begins to place me into the hold once again. I focus my energy not on his close proximity, but the task at hand, and before he can grasp onto me completely, two things happen. The door to the office swings open and Miles goes flying over my shoulder, landing onto his back with a loud thud.
