by Sophia Gray
“Hush, Ma,” I told her, dropping my voice lower so Elle wouldn’t hear anything. Not that she was even looking our way. She was likely lost in her own thoughts, trying to calm down after everything. “I’ll get your truck back to you, but that’s it. Leave her out of this.”
Her eyebrows rose. “You telling me you haven’t even thought about it?”
I didn’t answer her and she grinned. Truth was, I had been thinking about it. After all of this blew over…But seeing her scared and in shock after everything, well, it reminded me that I couldn’t do that to her. Even if I cleared things up with Shane, there would still be trouble. Another rival club, the cops, dissention from within. They were bound to happen. Did I have any right dragging her into it? Serious, not serious, either way it was dragging her into a dangerous world unnecessarily. That wasn’t fair to her.
“Don’t worry so much, m’boy. Things’ll work out. They always do.”
Before I could say more, she ushered the pair of us upstairs where we could shower and find some clean, dry clothing. I let Elle shower first, tried not to picture her naked, glistening body and the things I’d like to do to it. Then when she got out, wrapped in a fluffy bath towel, I slid in after her. Ma would find her some things to wear. I took a little longer in the shower than I usually did, because I had to work out a little frustration. It was a bad time for it, but Elle was driving me mad, and imagining her in the shower definitely hadn’t helped. When I finished jerking myself off, I washed again, then got out of the shower. I towel dried, then went in search of clothing.
Elle wasn’t in the room when I got out, but I heard soft conversation floating up from downstairs. She was talking with Ma, who was probably putting little ideas in her head. I let out a frustrated sound. Ma was not making this easier on me.
I dug into the closet and found some of my old things, kept for just in case situations. I pulled out some flannel lined jeans, a long-sleeved black t-shirt, a sweatshirt, and a coat to go on top of it. The coat had been Pa’s and still smelled like the laundry soap he’d always used and just a little bit of vanilla tobacco.
I was pulling on an old pair of work boots since my others were soaked when I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. A second later there was a knock. “Are you decent?” came Elle’s voice.
I smirked, thinking of how I should have waited for her naked or at least answered her cheekily about didn’t she wish, but ultimately I remembered that I was determined to leave her behind now. I had decided she wasn’t the kind of woman for this sort of life. That meant I needed to cut out this tongue in cheek crap. So I called out simply, “Yeah.”
The door opened and my mouth opened a little in surprise.
Ma had found Elle some clothes that fit, but they were old. They must have been from when Ma was just a girl herself, because the dress was tight in the waist, but modest. It was probably shorter on Elle than on Ma given the height difference, but even then it fell halfway past her knees. It was a deep navy blue color from just below her breasts down. The top was a snow-white color that traveled down the sleeves. There were silver buttons with star designs on them traveling down the entire front of the dress. The collar was a V-neck with little collar flaps on the side. The sleeves were long and buttoned at the wrists.
I could picture Ma as a young woman in that dress, dancing the night away with Pa until they were both laughing and exhausted, and probably a little intoxicated.
It was strange to see Elle in the dress now, but I admitted she looked beautiful in it. Her hair was still drying, putting see-through spots on the white fabric and hinting at the lack of a bra she wore beneath. I had the feeling that Ma didn’t have one in her size in her wardrobe.
“A dress?” I managed to get out, realizing I’d been staring for a long while and my gaze was lingering a little too long on her breasts. I could see her peaked nipple. From the cold? From desire?
She shrugged a little. “Your mother said there weren’t a lot of choices for someone as little as me.” She smoothed out the midnight blue skirt. “Is it really terrible?”
I stood, shaking my head. “No. It’s…” I broke off before I said something stupid like it’s beautiful. “You’re probably going to be cold.”
She looked a little disappointed, but nodded. “Your mom gave me wool tights to wear with it and some boots that are a little small on me. But they’ll do for now. She said she had a coat that I could use, too.”
I nodded, trying to remain calm, but all I could think about was wool tights and her in nothing else. Maybe they were the thigh high kind and she could skip the panties. I could tear off that dress and leave her in just the tights. It would be easy to spread her milky thighs and expose that perfect, pink core of hers.
Taking a deep breath, I ground out, “Good. I need to make some calls, then we’ll go.”
She nodded, but before either of us got anywhere, we heard the knocking on the door.
Chapter 10
Elle
I was busy being disappointed that Ciaran didn’t seem all that interested in the beautiful dress his mother had given me when I heard the knock coming from downstairs. The look on Ciaran’s face told me he’d likely heard it to. I opened my mouth to ask if this was something normal or something to be worried about when he put a finger to his lips. Silence.
Panic washed through me all over again.
Was it the man from the shop? The one who was shooting at us? God, he tried to kill us! And if the look on Ciaran’s face had been any indication, he wasn’t just going to give up either. I waited with baited breath as we both listened for any other sounds coming from downstairs. Quietly, Ciaran walked over to me, deliberately stepping across the floor like he knew where all of the squeaky floorboards were. Which he probably did.
When he got to me, he put his hands on my upper arms, offering me a squeeze of comfort. I smiled a little shakily at him, but did feel better for the gesture.
There were voices coming from downstairs. One was definitely Ma’s, but the other I couldn’t recognize. It was a man’s voice, though. It was impossible to hear exactly what they were saying from here, which seemed to frustrate Ciaran. He motioned for me to be quiet and follow him. I did so as carefully as possible.
He went to the door. Thankfully I hadn’t closed it behind me once I entered the room, so we didn’t have to worry about what sounds it might make pushing it open. I winced a little when the hinges creaked as he moved it a little wider for us to slip out. We both paused, but it didn’t seem like anyone downstairs had heard us. We started moving again.
Ciaran moved down the hallway, staying low to the ground as he crept towards the staircase leading below. I followed him, praying I didn’t catch the one floorboard that was going to give us away. We made it to the top of the stairs, but because the stairs were behind the bar, we didn’t have a view of the door. Which was good in some respect, because it meant whoever was at the door couldn’t see us either.
Painfully slow, we crept down the stairs. Every so often there would be a sound and Ciaran would freeze. I would nearly tumble into him, but catch myself just in time. Then we’d take another two steps.
Finally, we made it to the first floor, coming up right behind the bar. Remaining crouched low, we shuffled behind the bar, using it as cover as we rounded the corner where we’d be able to see whoever it was if we straightened up. I had thought that was the point, to see who was there, but I noticed Ciaran didn’t even try to look over the counter. Instead, he went for something beneath the counter.
My eyes widened when I realized it was a large shotgun.
Carefully he picked it up. I realized that from here we could hear the conversation between Ma and our visitor.
“Shouldn’t be here, boys,” she told whoever it was sternly. Boys. Must be at least two of them, then, I thought, but remained silent. “This is Skulls territory.”
I frowned. Skulls? What was she talking about? I glanced questioningly at Ciaran, but he wasn’t looking at me
. Instead, he was checking for something else beneath the shelves. He pulled out a box of shells.
I continued to listen to the conversation.
“Not for long,” a man answered her with a sneer.
“Easy, Mick,” said a second voice. “Look, Ma—”
“That’s Mrs. Sullivan to the likes of you,” she said coolly.
“Mrs. Sullivan,” the man corrected. “You don’t need to be like this. We’re just as Irish as the Skulls, you know that. Hell, it’s your own boy who—”
“You listen here, you thugs,” said Ma in a voice that was feminine but oozed danger and reproach. I could imagine her jabbing her finger into their chests, eyes narrowed and body squared off as though ready to fight. She was that tough. “Shane decided he didn’t want to be my boy the moment he went against his brother! That makes him and you both no blood of mine!”
There was a long pause and I could feel the tension filling the silence. Finally, the second man said, “Where are they, Ma?”
“I told you, it’s Mrs. Shane to you boys.”
“Don’t be difficult, old lady,” said the first man, Mick. “We don’t wanna have to rough you up.”
She laughed. Despite the threat in their words and voices, the old woman didn’t seem in the least bit afraid. She was made of stouter stuff than I was, that was for sure. I got Ciaran’s attention and pointed towards his mother. He had paled, but nodded. Carefully, he opened the barrel of the shotgun and starting sliding in the shells.
But the conversation didn’t stop. “I’ve earned the right to be as difficult as I want. Any of you boys live that long, you’ll earn it, too.”
“Let’s go. He ain’t here, and she’s too damn batty to know anything anyway,” said Mick, clearly not happy to have been laughed at.
But the other man didn’t seem as sure. There was a long pause, then, “You sure Ciaran ain’t here? With a pretty little brunette? Real looker.”
I felt my body stiffen. Me. They were looking for me, too. But why? Why were these men looking for either of us? What was this about Irish and Skulls and territory? And who the hell was this Shane guy?
“I haven’t seen no one,” Ma answered firmly. “As you can see, the bar has been closed for more than a few years. I’m not in the business of opening for anyone. No exceptions.”
The man’s voice lowered until I couldn’t make out what he was saying. I was straining to hear, trying to make it out. That was when two things happened. Ciaran snapped the shotgun back into place, fully loaded, and a shot rang out in the entire room. My eyes widened and I hopped up until I was standing at the bar, looking at the scene at the same time that Ciaran jerked himself up and aimed the shotgun.
I might have tried to stop him from shooting if I didn’t see the old lady lying on the floor, dead, blood pooling around her.
Another shot rang out and this time it was from right next to me. I looked over at Ciaran, wild-eyed and panicked. He was yelling something, but I couldn’t hear any of it. The shots had temporarily deafened me until all I could hear was that ringing sound in my ears. The rest of the world might as well have been silent.
But I could see what was happening.
Ciaran had pulled the trigger and shot the man who held the gun. I didn’t know which of the two he was. But it wasn’t a shot to the head or chest or whatever. Instead, he jerked back in surprise, clutching at his shoulder. The second guy pulled out another gun and pointed it towards us. More specifically, towards me.
I thought I screamed, but couldn’t be sure. I was staring at that gun when Ciaran threw his weight against me, tackling me to the ground. More shots rang out, shattering glass behind us and pouring down liquor from the bar. Ciaran said something to me, but my ears still weren’t processing what he was saying.
Finally, frustrated, he grabbed my arm and jerked me forward, making me move away from the men with guns. We didn’t go back up the stairs, but instead headed out from the bar towards a door I hadn’t noticed before. An old exit sign was above it, but it was faded and unlit.
Another shot came out way. We ducked behind a wall, but the shot went through the wall. It just barely missed Ciaran.
He shoved me through the door harshly. I lost my footing and fell into the snow right outside the door. He followed me a second later, once again gripping my arm and jerking me to my feet. We ran like death itself was after us—and that wasn’t very far from the truth.
I thought we were going to be stuck on the streets again, running and hiding, but Ciaran surprised me by shoving me into the cab of a beat up old truck. I was about to ask if he could hotwire it or something, but he didn’t have to.
He had the keys.
To my surprise, the truck roared to life and we spun out of there just as the two men were bursting through the door where we’d just exited.
They shot after us, but it was pointless. Their aim was terrible and we were moving quickly out of their line of sight. I’d never been so terrified and so grateful in my entire life. Somehow, we’d made it out alive.
But Mrs. Sullivan hadn’t.
Chapter 11
Ciaran
I drove her to my house, because I’d never managed to get ahold of the boys and I was quickly running out of places to go. It wasn’t like I could just drop her off at the bus station and hope no one spotted her on the way out. And maybe my house wasn’t the best of ideas, but Shane didn’t know exactly where it was since I’d made the move recently and it was far enough out of town that maybe we’d be safe up there. At least for a little while. If I were lucky, I could get ahold of someone in the Lucky Skulls, get a plan going, and take care of everything. And hopefully I could get Elle to stick it out here while I did that.
When I pulled the truck up around the back of the house, I parked beneath the carport where there was only a little bit of snow around the edges. I turned off the engine and glanced at Elle. Her hair was drying thanks to the heater and had started to curl into soft waves, the ends forming small curlicues. The dress made her look vintage, from another time where the good guys always won and everyone knew exactly who the bad guys were.
“What?” she asked, her voice soft and scared. “Is someone here, too? Are we safe?”
I could hear the fear in her voice, but there was sadness, too. I realized she’d mistaken my lingering in the cab as a sign that there was danger. I shook my head. “No, everything’s fine. This is my house and it’s pretty out of the way. No one’s going to find us here.” At least not for a while.
She let out a shaky breath of air, but nodded, putting all of her trust in me. It was almost unnerving the way she was willing to do that, but I was grateful. It made everything easier.
Making sure I had the shotgun with me, I led her to the house, which was pretty big considering I was a full time bachelor and spent half my time out of the house. It was two stories with a basement. Two bedrooms, one extra room I used for weights, a kitchen, living room, den, and utility room. The basement had the washer and dryer as well as an additional exit via outside cellar doors. I enjoyed the space, though there were times when it was just too much for one person. Even so, right now I wished it were smaller. After being shot at and followed by Shane’s men, after what happened to Ma.
I shook my head. I couldn’t think about her right now. The image of her body lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood was too damn much. That was the woman who raised me. Who cared for me when no one else gave a damn. She wasn’t my blood, but she was more my mother than anyone else ever had been or would be. I owed her everything, and now she was dead.
It ate me up inside and made me want to just sit down. To crumple and say fuck it. To have a moment where I could grieve.
But I didn’t have those moments right now. I had to get Elle to safety, regroup the Lucky Skulls, and somehow stop Shane—because now I knew he couldn’t be reasoned with. After all, Marie Sullivan had raised him, too.
I took her into the house and quickly bumped up the thermostat.
I kept it pretty low while I was out, so the house was chilly, but it was still better than outside. “It’ll take a minute for it to kick in,” I told Elle. “But I’ll make a fire.”
She nodded, hugging herself tightly. For warmth and for comfort both.
I stacked several logs into the fireplace there in the den, then scrunched up some newspaper for kindling. I struck a match and the fire lit instantly. It took a second for the logs to catch, too, but when they did they burned brightly. When the fire was glowing steadily, I got up and went to the couch that was facing the fireplace. There was a knit throw blanket laid across the back of it; I grabbed that and threw it about Elle’s shoulders. She looked startled, like she’d forgotten I was here.
