The Jewel Thief

by Angela Blake

  “Let’s go, ladies.”

  ***

  The loud banging on his door the next morning had Sean groaning. He sat up on the sofa and looked around, blearily.

  He blinked for a few seconds and felt his face throb, painfully.

  What?

  His mind recalled the events of last night.

  Oh yeah. The bar fight.

  He had picked a fight with three of heftiest people in the bar.

  He had given as good as he had gotten, but it was three against one, and none of them had been inclined to play fair.

  Sitting up, he groaned as he felt his ribs scream in protest. He lifted his shirt and made a face at the splotch of colours on his stomach.

  He really hoped nothing was broken.

  When the banging continued, he yelled, “I’ll be there in a minute. Hold your fucking horses!”

  Grabbing the sofa for support, he saw the two bottles strewn on the floor and wondered how much he had drunk when he had managed to get home.

  That would explain the pounding in his head.

  He made his way to the door, and opened the door.

  His grandfather stood there.

  One look at his face, and Thomas paled, swaying. “What happened to you?”

  Sean tried not to blink too fast, “Hello to you too, Gramps.”

  He turned around, and one hand holding his stomach, he limped back to the living room to collapse on the couch, “Got in a fight.”

  “Give me names,” His grandfather demanded, raging fury in his voice.

  He would have raised a brow at the over protectiveness, but his face hurt like a bitch, so he just settled for staring at the elderly man, “I picked a fight with them. And you should see the other guys.”

  Thomas eased himself into a chair, “You should go to the hospital.”

  “Or, I could just stay home and enjoy your company.” Sean groaned at a painful twinge in his side.

  He didn’t want the pain to end. The physical pain was better than his aching heart right now.

  Thomas watched him, noting the stark misery in the young man’s eyes.

  “Something happened.” It was more of a statement, than a question, and Sean ignored it.

  The smacking of the cane against his injured leg made him hiss and swear in Gaelic at his grandfather.

  “Answer the question, boy. What is going on? Danielle is set on going on some pointless cruise and you’re sitting here, getting your ass handed to you.”

  Sean scowled, “Hey! I dished out worse than them. And it was three against one. What do you expect?”

  “That doesn’t answer my question. What happened with you and that girl?”

  “I broke her heart,” Sean said, loudly, staring at the ceiling. “I crushed it, stomped on it, till it bled out. And then I decided to go back for a second round.”

  His grandfather scoffed, “Yeah. Okay. Now, try the truth.”

  Sean watched him from his one good eye, “I hurt her, Gramps. And I don’t think she’s ever going to forgive me for what I did.”

  “Did you cheat on her?” Thomas’s voice was low, anger threaded in it.

  “Of course not!” Sean growled. “I love that stupid woman.”

  His grandfather’s shoulder relaxed, “Then stop her from leaving. She’s packing.”

  Sean stilled, “She’s leaving today?”

  “Her friend showed up at my house, wanting me to talk her out of it. She refuses to see her mother, not that her mother would be very helpful.”

  Sean got up, and grabbed the arm of the sofa for support.

  His grandfather stared at him, “Where are you going now?”

  “To stop her,” Sean groaned, his aching ribs now screaming at the movement.

  “Go to the hospital first.”

  “Fuck the hospital,” Sean growled. He looked around for his keys before seeing them tucked in a corner of the sofa he had been sleeping on.

  Picking them up, he limped his way out of the house.

  Thomas followed him, “You sure you can drive?”

  “I’ll manage,” his grandson muttered, forcing himself into the seat. Then he stared at the steering wheel, “She’s it for me, Gramps. I want to marry her. I know I’ve known her for a handful of weeks, but I know.”

  A small box landed in his lap, and he blinked.

  Thomas smirked, “I proposed to Meredith, two weeks after I met her. My father, a month, I have a feeling this runs in the family.”

  Sean fingered the box, and opened it to see an engagement ring. It wasn’t a spectacular diamond, but it was beautiful.

  His heart dropped to his knees.

  “What if she says ‘no’?”

  Thomas shrugged his broad shoulders, “Your grandmother refused me five times before I finally wore her down. Got the girl, didn’t I?”

  Sean grinned at him, ignoring the spasm of pain that ran through him at the gesture.

  He started the car.

  He drove like a madman, and the people who cursed in his direction, froze at the sight of his battered face.

  He really hoped he did not scare Danielle with his new and improved looks.

  Chapter Ten

  Pulling his car in front of the entrance of her building, he was prepared to beg her to stay. He could stomp on his pride for her. She was worth it.

  The doorman stared at him, with a mixture of horror and fascination, “Sir, your-“

  Sean tossed his car keys at him, “Get someone to park my car, Dallas.”

  A little flustered that the building’s owner knew his name, the man nodded and stepped aside to let Sean enter.

  He strode towards the elevator, trying not to limp.

  The ride up was a chaotic jumble of nerves for him, along with tendrils of anger.

  She actually intended to leave him!?

  Marching towards her door, he unlocked it with the master key and let himself in.

  Danielle stood in the middle of the room, holding a glass ornament in her hands.

  Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, and she wore a tiny T shirt and shorts that left nothing to the imagination.

  She was packing up the entire apartment and for a moment he reeled.

  Hearing him, she whirled around.

  He had expected anger, perhaps tears, but not what he saw.

  Her face went white, and the glass ornament slipped from her hands, shattering into a million, sparkling pieces.

  “Your face. Sean, what happened to you?!”

  She darted towards him, the fear in her eyes a welcome emotion to him.

  She grabbed his cheeks and studied the blooming bruises. His eye was cut badly, and her heart trembled at the sight.

  “Who did this to you?”

  Where was the anger from last night? He wondered.

  He had to force his hands to remain still at his sides, and not touch her as she ran her hands over his split lip.

  “I got in a fight.”

  The tears shone in her eyes, as she kept touching his bruises, her fingertips feather light on his skin.

  He hadn’t known it possible to fall more madly in love with her, till he saw her tears.

  She wouldn’t cry for herself, but she would cry for him?

  She guided him to the couch, and moved around, looking for a first aid kit.

  “Why didn’t you go to the doctor, you stupid moron?” She asked him, anger in her voice now, when he limped to the couch and sat down heavily.

  He gripped her wrist before she could start cleaning his wounds, “Because you were leaving me. I had to stop you.”

  Danielle pursed her lips and didn’t reply to him, “Why did you pick a fight with someone? And tell me they look worse than you.”

  “I look like I just got a love tap,” he admitted.

  “Why’d you pick a fight?” She echoed her previous question.

  How could he tell her? His hand fell aw
ay from her wrist and he let her clean his wounds, not knowing how to put his feelings into words.

  “Sean.”

  There was an angry demand in her voice, and he bit out, “Because I made a mess of things. I realized far too late that I was in love with you and I fucked everything up.”

  His dialect was moving dangerously close to his Irish one, and his accent even more thicker, the frustration in his voice, growing.

  She still didn’t say anything to the accusation.

  “You left the statue behind.” She murmured.

  “I don’t want the blasted thing,” He growled at her. “It’s caused me more trouble than it’s worth.”

  She didn’t seem perturbed by his anger, her hands still gentle on his face.

  “You called Jenny.”

  “Well you wouldn’t let me touch you. Just wanted to bash my fucking head in. I would have helped you with it, if you had just let me comfort you.”

  “You stayed outside till Jenny came. She saw you.”

  “You were crying. I made you cry. And I broke your heart. I’m a right bastard.”

  Who didn’t deserve this, he thought wearily. He didn’t deserve her gentle touches. He didn’t deserve the way his heart stopped stuttering when her fingers moved over him.

  “I should go.” He forced himself to stand up. “I broke your trust. I’m worse than your own family.”

  She pushed him down onto the couch, “Sit down, you moron.”

  When he winced at where her fingers were touching his stomach, she narrowed her eyes and lifted up his shirt. The bruises that bloomed there were mottled shades of blue, black and purple. They looked painful to the eye.

  Her lips trembled, “You’re all black and blue.”

  “Well, I deserved it, didn’t I?”

  Danielle’s fingers ghosted over them, as she sat on her knees in front of him, “You didn’t deserve all this.”

  “You’re right. I deserve worse.”

  Danielle scoffed, “Are you done being a little drama queen?”

  When he gave her an incredulous look, she stared right back, “What you deserve is for me to stomp on your heart. Break it like you broke mine. Maybe rub some salt in the cracks.”

  He took a shuddering breath at her words, “Are you really leaving me?”

  She applied alcohol to the gaping cut over his eyes, and watched as he hissed at the sting, “Yes.”

  “Why don’t you look mad anymore?”

  Danielle stared at him for a heartbeat, and the bitter smile on her face felt as if somebody had pierced his heart with a shard of glass.

  “I fell in love with you. That’s on me. It’s not your problem, Sean. And I’m leaving for good.”

  When he started, she shrugged, not meeting his eyes, “Jenny has a good understanding of how the business runs here. I’m going to set up another branch elsewhere. I need a clean break from all this excessive drama in my life.”

  “So, you’re running away?” He bit out, pinning her hand to his chest.

  She glared at him, “Yes, I am. And I’m not ashamed of it, so let go.”

  He released her hand, “I’ll follow you there.”

  “Go ahead,” She told him. “It’s a free world. Do whatever you want.”

  He studied her bent head, and told her, “I love you.”

  She jerked back as if she had been slapped.

  Then, a trembling scoff, “Isn’t that low, even for you?”

  “I love you, Danielle.” He cupped her face in his hands and lifted it to see the fury in her eyes.

  He let her see the misery in his, “I made a mistake. I’ve never cared for a woman like I’ve cared for you. I never thought that I could fall in love with someone. But I did. And I didn’t know how to handle it. So, I screwed things up.”

  “Yes, you did.” She informed him, bitterness in her voice, the scars from her past showing.

  “You won’t even give me a chance to make amends?”

  She heard the pleading in her voice, and her heart trembled.

  “You lied to me. You used me.”

  “To get something that I didn’t even want anymore.” He told her, as she moved away from him and stood with her back towards him.

  “Tell me what to do to fix this and I will.”

  Two tears dripped down her cheek.

  She didn’t know how to fix this. All she knew was the aching sense of betrayal that she could feel, all the way down to her bones.

  “You knew everything.” She found herself saying, her voice thick with suppressed emotion. “About what Julian did, about what my parents did, and once you made sure I was completely in love with you, you yanked the floor right out from under me.”

  “I’m a wretched bastard.” He told her.

  “Yes, you are.”

  “You can punish me however, you like,” He turned her around to face him, letting her see the anguish and torment in his eyes, “But don’t leave me, Danielle.”

  This proud man was begging her.

  And something inside her broke.

  She dropped her head on his chest, and her shoulders shook with the tears, as she beat at his chest. He took her blows and fell back down onto the couch, dragging her along with him.

  “I hate you. I hate you.” The words were a constant mantra, and he didn’t stop her.

  When her hands tired, he curled her into his lap, and let her cry her heart out. The harsh sobs that tore from her throat had his own throat tightening, and he kept pressing small kisses on the top of her head.

  “I’m sorry, darling. I’m so sorry.”

  They remained that way for quite a while, Danielle’s sobs quietening. She now just lay there, tracing circles on his bruised chest.

  “I hate you.” She murmured, hoarsely, but her voice lacked conviction.

  “Not as much as I hate myself for putting you through this.” He told her.

  Her hands went out to touch his face, “Your pretty face is all bruised up.”

  He mustered some offence at the words, “Me face is not pretty.”

  “Well, not anymore it isn’t.”

  Hearing the snark in her voice, he found his lips curving.

  “I look manly.”

  “You look manly in a pretty way,” she informed him, a soft teasing in her voice.

  He leaned down to kiss her nose in an affectionate gesture and waited to see her reaction. She didn’t reject him, but her eyes held that vulnerability that tore at him.

  “Look in my pocket.” He nudged her, and she took out the box.

  Her heart stilled.

  “Open it.” He urged, and she gave him a disbelieving look.

  The ring was gorgeous in her eyes, but she stared at him, “Is this what you’re going to do to convince me to go back into your arms?”

  He shrugged, “No. I wanted to. But no. This is just me telling you that this is what I intend.”

  He brought her closer to him, till their faces were bare inches apart, “I intend to marry you, Danielle. If not now, then some other day. But there is no way in hell, are you escaping my grasp.”

  The arrogance in his voice made her want to smack him.

  “What if I say no?” She asked.

  His smile was slow, a devastating one, “Then I’ll keep asking, till finally you throw the empty box at my head, ring on your finger.”

  Danielle scoffed at him, “That’s never going to happen.”

  He dropped a soft kiss on her lips.

  She kept looking at the ring, feeling his reassuring touches on her skin.

  “I wasn’t going to have any affairs,” she murmured, her eyes on his hand that rested in her lap.

  She felt him tense and then relax, “Well, I planned to break the faces of all those men, anyways.”

  “You wouldn’t have.” She insisted.

  He gave her a serious look, “Not only do I have Irish blood in me, I am also insanely poss
essive. You’re the only woman for me, Danielle. I’ll be damned if I let some other man try to claim you.”

  She shoved at his chest, avoiding his bruises, “I’m not some piece of property.”

  “No.” He nuzzled her lovely neck, “What you are is the single most greatest treasure that I managed to find. And I plan to keep you with me.”

  “I don’t like smooth talkers.” She informed him, his words igniting a slow burning fire in her.

  His green eyes laughed at her, “Well, it’s too bad you’re going to get stuck with one.”

  She watched him for a few moments, “I do intend to leave though.”

  “Then, I’ll follow you.”

  His words were simple and yet they made her heart beat just a little faster.

  “You’ll follow me anywhere?”

  “Yes.”

  She couldn’t resist teasing him, “What if I decided to move to the North Pole and live amongst the Polar bears?”

  “I’ll build you a snow castle and we’ll rule all the Polar bears there.”

  She laughed at his prompt reply in that serious tone, and leaned down to kiss him.

  “Mr. Arton isn’t going to like me stealing you away.”

  “I have a feeling he’ll be quite pleased.” He grinned, letting her cuddle into him.

  After a long silence, he asked, “Do you forgive me, Danielle?”

  She didn’t remove her head from his chest, “I’m not angry with you anymore. I’m still hurt, but it’s going to take a while for me to trust you again.”

  “But you’re going to give me another chance?” His arm tightening on her waist.

  “Yeah.”

  The buzzing of the doorbell had them both tensing.

  “I’ll go see who that is,” Danielle wiggled off his lap, and moved towards the door.

  A familiar voice and then Jenny barged into the room, “You two-timing, low life son of a – Woah!”

  She froze at the sight of the battered Sean, who raised a hand in greeting.

  Panic filled her eyes, “Danielle, when I said beat the shit out of him, I didn’t mean literally!”

  “I didn’t do that.” Her friend informed her, trailing behind her. “He did that to himself.”

  Jenny sneered at him, “Karma, am I right? Bitch and all.”