“Anyone with eyes can see that,” Cillian said.
“Dad?”
“Give Dad a break,” Cillian said. “You’re the only girl in our family. I know it’s not fair, but he’s been struggling with you and Griffin for a while now. At first he was worried because he thought Griffin would break your heart. Then he started worrying because he thought Griffin would break his heart when he stole you away. It’s hard for him.”
“Griffin isn’t stealing me away from anyone,” I argued.
“No,” Cillian said. “It’s not the same, though. This is just the first step of a new life for you. Eventually you and Griffin will marry, and maybe have a kid or two. You’ll never be our Aisling again. Now you’re Griffin’s Aisling.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” he continued. “It’s the way of the world. It still kind of guts Dad. If you were a boy, it would be easier.”
“I don’t think it would be easier on Griffin if I was a boy.”
Cillian barked out a laugh. “I guess not,” he said. “I’m not worried about you and Griffin. He’s good for you. He doesn’t let you get away with too much, yet he’s gentle and coddles you when you need it. He gets you.”
“If you’re not worried about Griffin, what are you worried about?”
“You.”
I thought for sure he was going to say “Mom,” so his answer took me by surprise. “You just said … .”
Cillian cut me off. “I’m worried because Mom seems fixated on you,” he said. “I’m worried because this John Anderson popped up out of nowhere and seems fixated on you, too. It’s too much of a coincidence.”
I knit my eyebrows. “Do you think he’s working with Mom?”
“I think something is going on and we’re not seeing the big picture yet,” Cillian clarified. “I didn’t say anything in front of Redmond because I didn’t want to upset him, but Mom was playing a game the other night. She’s trying pit you against the rest of us. She wants to manipulate things so that you’re isolated.”
Cillian always saw things the rest of us overlooked. “Why do you think she wants that?”
“Fontaine told you months ago that you were a target,” Cillian reminded me, referring to a rogue reaper I killed in a mausoleum fire. Before his death, Duke Fontaine told me Mom was alive and I was key to her plans. That seemed so long ago I’d almost forgotten about it. “Mom is planning something. I have no doubt about that. She’s pulling Braden to her side and trying to feel the rest of us out to see if we can be swayed.”
“Braden won’t turn on me,” I said, confident in my estimation. “No matter how conflicted he is, he’ll do the right thing when it comes down to it. He always does.”
“I know,” Cillian said. “You have to be really careful, though. Until we find out how all of this fits together, you’re a very enticing target. It seems you have a lot of enemies out there right now, kid. We need to keep you safe. You have to let us keep you safe.”
“Is that why you volunteered for babysitting duty today?” I asked. “Did you think you would be the only one capable of talking to me rationally while everyone else would’ve ticked me off?”
Cillian grinned, the expression lighting his already handsome face. “It was decided I would probably have the best chance of talking to you without grave repercussions and foot stomping.”
“You always do,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ll be careful, Cillian. I’m happy right now – except for Mom probably eating people, that is. I don’t want to miss my chance to live with Griffin before we even order furniture.”
“Keep it that way,” Cillian said.
I was glad to break from the heavy conversation and scanned the restaurant as I sipped my iced tea. My gaze fell on two familiar figures as they moved to the hostess stand near the front door to request a table. Cillian read my body language before I had a chance to tip him off.
“What’s going on?”
“Angelina is here,” I said, locking gazes with him. “John Anderson is with her.”
“Seriously?” Cillian focused his attention on the door, and when Angelina caught sight of him she made a beeline in our direction, practically running over the hostess in her haste and leaving Anderson to trail behind.
“Cillian,” Angelina said, resting her hand on his arm. “It’s so good to see you. It’s been … forever.”
“And yet still not long enough,” Cillian said, his jaw clenched.
Anderson ambled to the table behind Angelina, his eyes never moving from my face. “Well, well, well,” he said. “I guess it must be my lucky day.”
Angelina scowled when she realized Anderson was focused on me. “You got lucky the second you picked me as a real estate agent,” she said, obviously trying to cover for Anderson’s lack of interest in her.
“I was talking about running into Aisling here,” Anderson said, oblivious to Angelina’s flashing eyes. “This is my lucky day.” He moved around Angelina and slipped into the booth next to me, forcing me to slide over until I was pressed against the wall. I exchanged a look with Cillian, but he appeared confused about how to handle things.
“So, Cillian, tell me how things are going,” Angelina prodded, sliding into the booth next to him. We were both trapped by flaming asshats. It was someone’s lucky day, but certainly not mine.
“Things are going well,” Cillian said, his eyes never leaving Anderson. If he made a move on me, I was certain Cillian would barrel over Angelina to get to him. “I’ve been dating Maya for about four months now and we’re very happy.”
Angelina wrinkled her nose. “You mean Griffin’s sister, right? The nurse?”
Cillian nodded. “She’s a very smart and fun woman.”
Only Cillian could remain completely calm while shoving a stake through Angelina’s dark heart. I loved that about him.
“And how does Griffin feel about his sister dating Cillian?” Angelina asked, turning to me.
“He’s fine with it.” What? He’s mostly fine with it. If Maya dated Redmond or Braden he would have a problem. Cillian is a good guy, though.
“Who is Griffin?” Anderson asked, flashing me a bright smile. His teeth gleamed under the muted light, and for some reason he reminded me of that clown with the razor sharp teeth in It. Yup, I definitely watch too much television.
“My boyfriend,” I replied.
“Oh, are you still dating him?” Anderson looked disappointed. “I was hoping that was temporary.”
“Nope.”
“Aisling and Griffin are moving in together,” Cillian interjected, his hands resting on top of the table as he continued staring at Anderson. “They’re very happy.”
Anderson’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Moving in together? Oh, why do you want to break my poor heart? You can’t move in with that guy. You can do much better.”
“I think you’ve got that backward,” Angelina intoned. “Griffin could do much better than Aisling. She’s a walking train wreck.”
“And you’re a walking slutball,” I shot back.
“Ladies, we’re in public,” Cillian reminded us. “Try not to cause a scene.”
“That sounds like absolutely no fun,” I complained.
“Oh, let them go at it,” Anderson said. “I love a good catfight. All the people in my office are men, well, except for the secretaries. I love seeing women compete, especially over me.”
I snapped my eyes back to Anderson. “We’re not competing over you,” I said, adding a dark laugh to see if I could get under his skin. The muscle ticking in his jaw told me I’d done just that. “We’re competing to see who can make the other look like more of an idiot. You don’t play into this at all.”
“You’re a funny girl,” Anderson said, working overtime to recover.
“She is,” Cillian agreed. “She’s not joking right now, though.”
“Have I done something to offend you?” Anderson asked, pasting a quizzical look on his face. “I don’t understand the hostility.”
<
br /> “Cillian is just jealous,” Angelina said, patting his hand. “We used to date.”
“Oh, what happened?”
“Cillian got tired of worrying about herpes and dumped her,” I answered.
“That is not true,” Angelina hissed, narrowing her eyes. “There was a brief misunderstanding, which Aisling made worse, and we just never reconnected.”
“That’s too bad,” Anderson said. He was putting on quite the act.
“That’s not really what happened,” I supplied. “Angelina cheated on Cillian and he dumped her. She begged and cried for weeks, but he refused to take her calls. To this day she fawns all over him even though the very sight of her makes his skin crawl.”
“Thank you, Aisling,” Cillian said, his eyes flashing with warning. “John, Aisling says you’re a stockbroker. Where do you work?”
“Whilby and Anderson,” he replied smoothly. “It’s in the Renaissance Center. If you’re looking to play the market, I’m your guy.”
“That’s interesting,” Cillian said. “After you had flowers delivered to my sister, we decided to a do a little background check on you. Whilby and Anderson has been defunct for years.”
Anderson stilled, flexing his knuckles as he met Cillian’s gaze head on. “I think you have your facts wrong.”
“Of course he does,” Angelina scoffed. “You’re very successful. You gave me a business card and everything. If the business wasn’t real, you wouldn’t have a business card.”
“You’re such an idiot,” I muttered. “You can get business cards printed for anything. You don’t need an actual business. You, for example, could advertise your extra-curricular activities and set regular hours on your business cards. You wouldn’t even have to tell your pimp.”
“I will kill you,” Angelina seethed. “I’m not afraid of you or your back-from-the-dead mother. I don’t care how weird she looks.”
Anderson jerked his head in my direction. “Your mother came back from the dead?”
“She never really died,” I said. “Angelina is mistaken.”
“How does someone mistake a death in a fire?’ Angelina was incensed.
“How does anyone mistake you for anything other than a slutbag in stilettos?”
“Aisling, take it down a notch,” Cillian ordered.
Angelina puffed out her chest and smirked, causing Cillian to sigh.
“I wouldn’t get all high and mighty, Angelina,” Cillian chided. “Aisling isn’t wrong about you being a slutbag. She should just know better than yelling it in a restaurant.”
“That was nowhere near yelling,” I said. “If you want to hear yelling, I can do that.”
“Now isn’t the time,” Cillian said, shooting me a wink in an attempt to calm me. “For now, I’m much more interested in your friend here. I want to know why Mr. Anderson is telling people he works for a firm that closed years ago and has no record of his employment. I’m even more interested in why he bought expensive flowers and put them on your front porch.”
“You seem very interested in your sister’s social life,” Anderson said. “You might want to talk to a therapist about that.”
That was all I could take. “You know what? No one invited you to sit with us,” I said, prodding him with my knee. “We’re having a private lunch and you’re not invited.”
“There’s no reason to be rude, Aisling,” Angelina argued. “I’m sure we can all have a pleasant meal together.”
“Aisling is right,” Cillian said. “We have a few things to talk about privately. I’m sure the two of you understand that this is a family lunch. Now that she’s moving in with Griffin, we don’t have a lot of time to spend together.”
“Why would you want to spend time with her?” Angelina was annoyed. She wanted time alone with Anderson, and I could tell she was curious about the things we brought up, but she didn’t want to leave Cillian. “Can’t we just put this nastiness behind us and move forward?”
“We are moving forward,” Cillian said. “Aisling is moving in with Griffin. I’m happy with Maya. She and I are the ‘we’ here. You two are not part of the discussion.”
Angelina’s face fell. “Well, if you feel that way, I guess there’s nothing I can say to change your mind.” She pushed herself out of the booth. “Come on, John. We’ll get our own table.”
I expected Anderson to put up resistance, or at least offer a pithy remark. Instead he shot me a wan smile and as he slid out of the booth. I couldn’t help but frown when I saw something glinting in his hand as he moved to shove it in his pocket. It was my scepter. He must’ve lifted it when he slid into the booth next to me.
“Hey!” I reached over and grabbed his arm but he continued moving out of the booth, essentially hauling me with him.
“What are you doing?” Cillian asked, scrambling out of his side of the booth. “Let him go.”
“He has my … magic wand,” I gritted out.
Angelina wrinkled her nose. “Magic wand? Do you think you’re a fairy now? I thought that was Jerry’s job.”
Anderson moved to shake me off and in the process I tumbled back against the table, whimpering as the pain from my shoulder injury coursed through me.
“Where is Jerry the fairy?” Angelina asked. “I want to talk to him about a few of the things he said to me yesterday.”
“Stop calling him a fairy,” I howled as I grabbed my glass of iced tea from the table and threw it in Angelina’s face before turning to go after Anderson again. Cillian had his hand on the man’s arm and he refused to let go even as Anderson tried to beat a hasty retreat.
“Give my sister back her … wand,” Cillian ordered, making a face. “Did you have to call it that?”
“What else should I call it?”
“I’m going to kill you, Aisling,” Angelina shrieked, launching herself at me. I sidestepped her approach just enough to head off most of the blow, but she managed to wrap her hand in my hair and give it a good tug. “I hate you!”
“Right back at you!”
“I’m calling the police if you don’t unhand me right now, Mr. Grimlock,” Anderson snapped. “I’ll press charges.”
“Give my sister back her wand!”
“I will be forced to strike you if you don’t unhand me,” Anderson said.
“Don’t worry,” Cillian said. “I’m going to hit you first.” He slammed his fist into Anderson’s face, eliciting a howl, while I poked Angelina in the eye and ripped a hank of hair from her head.
Things carried on like that for about three minutes. When the police showed up, they arrested all four of us for assault and disturbing the peace.
19
Nineteen
“Ah, this brings back memories,” Dad said four hours later, offering me my hoodie. “Notice I didn’t say they were fond memories.”
We stood in the lobby of one of Detroit’s finest precincts – and when I say “finest” I actually mean filthiest – after my father posted bail. Thankfully I was ultimately hit with only a civil infraction for disturbing the peace instead of a misdemeanor, which would’ve required a court appearance. Dad didn’t look happy with my good fortune.
“Where’s Cillian?”
“They’re bringing him up now,” Dad said, looking me over. “Well, first things first. Are you hurt?”
“That depends,” I replied. “Are you talking about my body or my pride?”
“Your body.”
“In that case, my shoulder aches and now my lower back hurts to boot. Angelina fights like a girl. She pulled my hair really hard and I banged my back into the table.”
“Hmm.” Dad placed a gentle hand on my good shoulder and prodded me to turn around so he could study my back. “Lift your shirt.”
I did as instructed, earning a terse headshake when I swiveled back around. “What’s the damage?”
“You have a mark, but it looks better than the one on your face and the horrific bruise on your shoulder,” Dad said. “Tell me about your pride.�
�
I was surprised by his demand. “Angelina won the fight. It was pitiful.”
“You are injured,” Dad pointed out. “You were at a disadvantage.”
“But Angelina still won, and now I hate her more than ever,” I said, groaning as I slipped into my hoodie. “Oh, I’m going to be in so much pain tomorrow. I hope Mom eats her now.”
“No, you don’t,” Dad said. “We all would not mind Angelina being struck by a bus, but no one wants her to die by eating. We are civilized, after all.”
“Speak for yourself,” I muttered.
Dad brushed a strand of hair out of my face and locked gazes with me. “I proved ownership of the scepter and I have it in my pocket,” he said, lowering his voice. “I told the police it was an antique you picked up while on your daily travels.”
“You know I called it my ‘wand’ during the fight, right?”
“Yes, I heard,” Dad said. “The police think you’re crazy, but I explained you have a princess complex and occasionally do stupid things and they let it go. You have to pay a fine and then you’re off the hook, as they say.”
“How much is the fine?”
“Five hundred dollars.”
“Oh, crap,” I groused. “That’s going to suck because we’re shopping for furniture for the new place.”
Dad made a face that would’ve been comical under different circumstances. “I should let you twist in the wind, but I paid your fine,” Dad said. “I also paid your brother’s fine because I have a feeling he joined the free-for-all only after you did first.”
“Cillian always was your favorite,” I lamented.
“That shows how much you know,” Dad said, tapping his finger against my nose. “You happen to be my favorite.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Cillian said, walking out of the back hallway and fixing Dad with a dark look. “You’ve crushed my spirit.”
“Oh, don’t worry, you’re my favorite, too,” Dad said, wrinkling his nose as he smoothed Cillian’s hair. “How are you? Are you injured?”
Cillian lifted his hand to show Dad his bruised knuckles. “Just from where I hit John Anderson in the face.”
Grim Reunion (Aisling Grimlock Book 4) Page 16
