by Esme Devlin
The walls are panelled, the wood embossed with gold. Inside the panels, paintings of women in rich dresses framed in yet more gold stare down at me. A plush red carpet lines the dark wood floors, the same dark wood that rises up around me in the form of carved bedposts.
I’ve only ever been in a house like this once before.
I already know who it belongs to.
My stomach hardens like a rock instantly, a feeling of dread weighing me down into the mattress. A thousand situations rush through my mind at once, all of them stopping at Liam’s face.
I know what exactly what he’s capable of.
I clutch the silky sheets tight to my body, noticing my rings are gone.
I’m caught somewhere between wanting to hide and wanting to run.
How can I run?
Where are my clothes?
Pulling my legs up close to my chest I look around the room again. There’s a door. Is it locked? I need clothes!
The door opens and I swallow down the ache at the back of my throat.
Blonde hair emerges, a screwed-up face, piercing blue eyes.
“You’re awake,” he sneers.
“You…” My voice trembles. My whole body fucking trembles. “You need to let me go.”
I manage to get the words out but it doesn’t change his expression. He looks at me coldly, as if I’ve just killed his dog.
He only has the one crutch now, and he leans on it for support while he hobbles over to me slowly.
“I saw the cut on your hand. Whatever they’re hiding, you know about it. You will tell me everything you know.”
The dread I felt in my stomach when I realized where I was is still unmistakable, but something else simmers inside me now.
It’s not nerves. It’s not fear. It’s anger.
“I’m telling you nothing.”
“Predicted as much,” he says, flashing me a smile. “We’ll see how long you last, won’t we?”
I say nothing. There is nothing to say.
I was terrified just a minute ago. Scared that he’d touch me. Scared that he’d hurt me. But the more I stare at him now, the more I realize he’s just a boy.
Physically he can do anything he wants to me.
But mentally?
Only I decide what he can do to me mentally.
Shaun taught me that the first night I met him.
I’m not scared anymore.
I peel the covers from me, feeling the air on my skin. Liam’s eyes travel over my naked body, lingering on my breasts as I get out of the bed on shaky legs.
I take a step towards him and still he looks at me, eyeing me up like he wants to eat me.
I close the distance quickly, so quickly that by the time he realizes what’s about to happen, it’s already too late.
Pushing him with all the strength I can summon, he lets out a shriek as he crashes down onto the carpet.
Even shoeless, it doesn’t stop me from kicking him.
“Father,” he shouts. “Father!”
I collapse on top of him, punching and scratching. He doesn’t know whether to restrain me or defend himself, so he ends up doing neither.
Seconds later I hear the door crash into the wall and footsteps storming towards me. I’m lifted up easily, like a child in the midst of a tantrum, and my arms are pressed to my sides in a firm grip.
I just stand there, breathless and panting with my hair stuck to my mouth, watching as Liam struggles to his feet.
“Bitch,” he spits from his knees.
I giggle at him. I feel fucking alive.
He can’t hurt me.
Getting to his feet, I’m still laughing manically while he hobbles towards us, specs of saliva shooting from his mouth with every staggered breath.
He draws his hand back and I feel the sting on my cheek as he slaps me, full force, across the face.
I spit the hair from my mouth and continue laughing at him.
It’s hilarious.
Weak little man.
He straightens, fixing his suit jacket and adjusting the crutch at his side.
Fucks he wearing a suit for?
“You won’t be laughing tonight when I strap you to that bed and fuck you until every one of your holes bleed rivers for me.”
Bile rises from my stomach but I take no notice. I will laugh. I’ll laugh through tears if I have to, because it reminds him that he has no power over me.
Not a fucking ounce of it.
“Mary!” he shouts. I hear quick, light footsteps behind me but whoever has a hold of me has rendered me unable to move.
“See that she’s ready,” he says, before turning back to me. “Try anything, and I mean anything, and I’ll cut Mary’s fingers off myself.”
I swallow hard just as the arms behind me let me go and I realize my legs aren’t capable of carrying my weight anymore. I collapse on the floor in a heap.
The lady who I can only assume is Mary comes rushing over as soon as the door closes behind them.
“Oh pet,” she says, trying to pull me back up to my feet. “Come, you must get ready.”
“I can’t.” I shake my head, trying to hold back tears. But with her help I manage to sit on the edge of the bed.
She takes my chin in her hands and forces my head up, pushing my hair back from my face gently with her free hand. “You have to do as he says. You’ll be alright, just as long as you listen.”
Her eyes are green, and wrinkled. Friendly, but worried. Her salt and pepper hair is clipped back under a white bonnet, and from her uniform she looks like she’s been in this house since it was built.
“I don’t want to,” I tell her.
She drops my chin and scurries over to the wardrobe, returning with a huge pile of lace and gauze in her hands.
White lace.
I shudder, knowing exactly what this means.
Shaun was wrong. It didn’t work. He couldn’t save me.
She sorts through the pile, laying each piece down individually on the bed. Holding up the underskirt, she nods her head at me.
I sit there, unmoving.
“He wasn’t joking. I’m just as innocent as you are.”
I stare at her blankly for a moment. I know she doesn’t deserve this anymore than I do. If he followed through with his threat, I couldn’t live with myself.
I get up from the bed and she drops to the floor, allowing me to step easily into the skirt.
“There wasn’t any… underwear,” Mary says, avoiding eye contact.
“Figures,” I say nonchalantly.
She nods and makes herself busy with trying to piece together the other parts of the dress.
By the time she’s finished, every inch of me looks the part. My hair is coiled high on my head, a sheer veil tumbles down around a crown of diamantes. Lace covers my arms, nips my waist, and cascades in a long train behind me.
“You look—”
“Don’t,” I tell her.
She nods and looks down while I stare at myself some more.
It’s only temporary. That’s what I tell myself.
The Keagans own this town.
And my name is Lacey Keagan.
Chapter 24
SHAUN
“Pool?”
It’s a Saturday afternoon. Lacey’s away shopping or some shit, I’ve spent the day in the gym pummeling a bag of sand and now I’m restless as fuck.
My phone vibrates against the leather seat and I pick it up.
Scoot: Meet you at the Undercroft in twenty?
Doeboy: I’ll be there.
Tony: Cutting my Nans grass. Be there in an hour.
I chuckle at him before telling them I’ll meet them there.
Where the fuck is Calvin?
I tell the car to phone him and he answers on the third ring.
“Do you not check the group chat?”
“I saw it, mate. Meeting Stevie though.”
“Stevie? Thought they were through in Livingstone.”
�
�Nah, they came back this morning. Something about Lacey’s dad. Have you not spoken to her?”
No, I fucking haven’t. I check my messages, thinking I’ve maybe missed one from her.
“Shaun?”
“I’ve not spoken to her all day.”
I turn the car around in the road, heading to her dad’s house.
“I’m going there now. Phone you back.”
I shut off the call, changing gears and picking up speed. I never liked that man a single bit and I won’t just sit down while he gets his claws back into her.
She’s worth more than him.
I make it there quicker than normal and spot her car on the drive as I approach. I’m up the drive in a matter of seconds, hammering on the door.
No answer.
I hammer again and see a shadow behind the glass.
“Who are you?”
“Where’s Lacey?”
“She’s not here.”
“Fucking good one, smart-arse.”
I’m pushing past him and stalking down the hall before he has the chance to pick his jaw up off the floor.
“What do you think you’re doing? I know you,” he says, realization dawning in his voice. “You picked her up the night she left.”
“Lace?” I shout.
No answer.
“Where the fuck is she?”
He stands at the door, watching me carefully as I pace back up the hall.
“I told you, she’s not here. She dropped the car off this morning, gave me her credit card back.”
“This morning?”
That was fucking hours ago. I storm out the house and get back in my car, picking the phone up and pressing her name on my contacts list.
It rings and rings and she doesn’t pick up.
I try again. This call picks up, but the line goes dead a second later.
I try a third time, and this one goes to voicemail.
Something’s not right. Where the fuck is she?
I try Tony next. He picks up on the fifth ring, the bastard.
“Shaun, I told you I’m doing the lawn for my gran.”
“Shut the fuck up. Where’s your dad?”
“I think he’s working. Why?”
I hang up the phone and start the engine.
Tony’s dad — we call him Big Tony — is in the force and has every officer in this town on his payroll. He’ll be able to help me track her down.
I pull the car up outside the double doors of the police station and don’t even bother switching the engine off.
The wee round lady with the friendly face sits at the desk and smiles at me when she sees me bounding through the front doors. Moria. I like her much better than the tall guy with the big nose.
“Moira darlin, where’s Big Tony?”
“Uh, I think he’s in his office. Do you need something? I’ll call him through,” she says.
“Nah you’re good, just buzz me in.”
She nods and does as she’s told. I walk straight into his office without knocking.
“Shaun, what the fuck, man?”
I shake my head at him. He can scald me all he wants later.
“I think Lacey’s missing,” my hand goes to the back of my neck as I pace the room. “They’re out on bail, right? I think he took her.”
His brows furrow, he rubs his chin, but he doesn’t look half as fucking concerned as I feel. “When was she last seen?”
“This morning. She was supposed to be shopping with Stevie but she went to see her dad instead. Dropped her car off, it’s still sitting on the drive. She must have decided to walk back or something — fuck knows. Her phone answered and shut off, and now it’s going to voicemail. I need help, Tony.”
“Alright, son. Sit down.”
I shake my head at him. “Can’t.”
“Alright, give me a minute,” he nods and asks for my phone before he leaves the room.
Can he trace her phone? Can they do that?
I pace the room, my thoughts running fucking wild. I know what he did to my sister. If he hurts a single hair on her head…
I will kill him. I’ll have to kill him, even if it destroys everything we’ve worked for.
I’ll kill him.
Can I kill him?
My dad will likely kill me.
Fuck.
Chapter 25
LACEY
This wedding feels more real than the first one.
Does that make me strange?
I wonder if it’s the dress. We’re conditioned to think that, aren’t we? Even as little girls we have the barbie in the big white dress. Maybe that’s why the first one didn’t feel real — I was wearing skinny jeans and an old pair of Converse.
What I wouldn’t give to be back there right now, wearing my skinny jeans and my Converse.
I’d take anywhere, just as long as it wasn’t here.
Liam is staring at the pastor in front of us. It’s the same fucking pastor who married me and Shaun.
“This isn’t right, McGuiness,” he says, shaking his head at Liam’s father.
“Come now, John, be reasonable. You know I’m not one to shit over our traditions but hand-fasting hasn’t been recognized since nineteen-fucking-forty.”
John swallows. “You were happy enough to recognize the last one. Need I remind you how that turned out?”
McGuiness stiffens, his jaw ticking. “You needn’t remind me.”
John nods towards me. “There was a room full of witnesses who can swear that she is already wedded. The girl herself consented. I won’t do it.”
Finally, some fucking sense. I look over at Liam, his face is puckered like he’s sucking on something sour. McGuiness stands at his side, smiling with his eyes set on John.
“Do you remember what I threatened you with the last time? How is your daughter these days? She must be all grown up now… does she have a daughter of her own?”
John swallows and shakes his head slowly. “You will go to hell McGuiness, of that I am quite convinced.”
“Never believed much in that nonsense, anyway. Now get it fucking done.”
And just like that, John clears his throat and gives us the most basic ceremony he can muster from the top of his head.
No pretty words about a thousand tiny threads. No poetry.
He doesn’t even wait for me to say “I do.”
Because I don’t.
And when he tells Liam that he can kiss his bride I think I might vomit.
“There’s time for that. Come,” he tells me, trying to drag me with him.
He only has one arm because he needs the other for the crutch.
He’s not strong enough.
I stay rooted to my position and the more he pulls, the more I pull back. He tries to stay balanced on his crutch but gives up a few seconds later, huffing and sighing like a petulant child.
“Father,” he says, looking down at the ground.
I laugh again, and his eyes flick up so quickly towards me it sends me into a fit of giggles.
I know what’s coming. I should be kicking and screaming and fighting for my life but what the fuck is the point?
What’s the point in any of it?
His father grabs my arms from behind and forces me forwards. When I drag my feet, he just lifts me up and practically carries me from the room. I can hear Liam limping along behind us, following like a puppy.
I want Shaun.
I really, really want Shaun.
I try to push him away because I don’t want him here in my mind with me. It hurts too much. But he’s all I see.
No.
I can’t think about him.
Chapter 26
SHAUN
I’m sitting in the back of a police car rattling fuck out of the side of the door with my fingers and tapping my foot.
Big Tony assured me this would be faster with the blues on, but the prick in the driver’s seat is acting like he’s off to fucking ASDA-Walmart for the groceries and I’m abo
ut to punch the fuck out of him.
I’m about to punch the fuck out of everyone.
I told him to stop at my house, thinking my dad might be home. He wasn’t, but I raided the cabinet where he keeps the hunting rifles. Probably a good thing he wasn’t there, or he’d have tried to talk me out of it, just like Big Tony did.
Fuck them all.
Calvin is on his way to Liam’s house right now. I text Doeboy and Tony and Scoot to meet me there. I’ve got no fucking idea how many of them have her, but the more people we have the better.
Calvin’s Evoque is parked a few meters away from the gate, Wee Tony’s car is behind. I get out of the police car and Calvin rolls the window down.
“How the fuck are we getting in there?”
“You checked it was locked?” I ask him.
“I’m not a fucking half-wit, of course I checked it was locked.”
I look at the gate and I look at the cars. There is no way the police Astra is getting through that gate… well maybe it could. But that’s a whole fucking load of paperwork for Big T and I doubt Her Majesty would be happy about it.
Calvin has the bigger car.
“Can you go through it?”
He looks from the gate to the opposite side of the road, trying to judge the distance. “I can try.”
“Go for it.”
“I fucking loved this car, you prick.”
I laugh as he speeds off down the road and reverses until he’s in position. Fuck it.
I hold my hand up for him to wait and grab a couple of rifles from the back seat of the police car, then I hot-foot it over to the Evoque and jump in the passenger seat.
“Buckle up,” he says through a laugh.
He turns the music up full blast and the instrumental of Flogging Molly — Devil’s Dancefloor erupts in my eardrums.
I clip myself in and hold the guns between my legs, signaling for both the Tonys to follow behind us as soon as we’re through.
The car revs and then screeches on the ground while it tries to gain traction. It’s tight, but he manages to pick up speed. The car rears forward and jerks as it smashes into the gates, skidding for a second and then finally catapulting forward when the gate breaks open.
