I always have been? Emma’s throat cleared, thankfully distracting my attention from Julian’s horrendous face.
“I think we should hire Matt for a few hours a week. It’ll really help us out.” Her eyes fluttered between Julian and me, frightfully aware of his palm against my face. His contact was too natural, so authentic that we both must have forgotten it was even there, that he was touching me.
“We haven’t officially met.” Julian extended his hand to Emma, melting her panties with his grin. “I’m Julian.”
“Moll—Molloy.” Emma’s jaw fell to the floor while she glanced between Julian and me. God, this prick. Biting my bottom lip nearly to the point of drawing blood, I forced myself to fall into Julian’s right side as he pulled me in while shaking Emma’s hand with his left. I felt the familiar metal of his gun probing my side from beneath his sweater. His right fingers pressed below my ribs, a possessive reminder of what destruction he was capable.
“I didn’t…I’m sorry, Mr. Molloy…Aideen hadn’t mentioned.” Her blush radiated onto me, burning my skin with Julian’s lie.
“She didn’t?” Julian’s lips met my hair, my stomach exploding within the confines of my abdomen. I need to shower for the next twelve years. His cheek rested against my head once his fake affection subsided, and he continued watching Emma.
“And please,” he continued, “Julian will do, Emma.”
“How long…I mean, well, how long have you two been, um, together?” Emma inquired, her plump cheeks continuing to redden. I started shaking my head, an automatic defense to the fib.
“Oh,” Julian thought aloud, looking down at me with a proud smile, “only a few months.” Months?
“Months? Wow, Aid.” Emma giggled. “You sure know how to keep a secret.” So do you, Emma.
“It’s an election year,” I muttered, biting my tongue while Julian kissed my hair. “I didn’t want to cause a distraction.”
“You’re always thinking of me,” Julian cooed, tightening his hold, adhering me to his side. The palatable sweetness of his cologne swirled around my mind, like stepping into a candy shop. I want to buy all of it. Lollypops, chocolate bars, gummy bears. It’s fake. All of it. I needed to remind myself how angry I was at Julian for everything he did from the moment I first met him.
“I sure am,” I groaned. Thinking about how much I hate you. I spun at his side, forcing myself away from Julian so I could return to guzzling the large honey latte screaming for me near the espresso machine.
“I thought you said they…” Emma bit her lip as my shadow approached us. “I thought…you know?”
Julian sighed, wrapping his arms around my shoulders from behind, holding me against him. “What exactly did our dear Aideen say about us?” Us. Not Julian and me, but the Molloys. I watched Emma swallow nervously, her eyes deep with worry as she scanned my face in search of a clue.
“Would you mind?” I grunted, slowly shifting my shoulders within his hold. “I need to work.”
“There are six people in here, Aideen, two of whom are with me,” Julian whispered in my ear, his breath shivering my nerves with each word. “What did you tell her about me?”
“Emma.” I smiled kindly at her, hoping to reassure her. “Would you give us just a minute?”
“Oh. Yes. I need to get some paperwork for Matt anyway.” She skipped away, bouncing toward the office, while Julian and I stood at the espresso machine. His hold released, and he leaned against the counter across from me, both of us engaging in a staring match. I crossed my arms, he crossed his. I groaned, he smiled.
“I thought you kept secrets, Miss Leary.” He lifted a finger to warn me. “I end up not being the gentlest to people who betray me.”
“Fuck,” I screamed at him through a whisper, “just stop!”
Julian laughed at me, humored by my pathetic attempt to restrain the irritation and rage I felt building inside of me. Trying to avoid causing a scene, I placed my right palm around his left bicep, almost dying in the process as its warmth burned through the thin layer of his sweater, and pushed him back into hiding.
“Listen, you,” my finger was now pointing at Julian, “you know quite well that I am not, and will never, talk to anyone about anything. My life is my private business. Your private shit makes things even worse. And you know what, Mr. Molloy?”
“What, Aideen?” Julian’s grin melted my confidence, his lips parting around his perfect teeth.
“I don’t know one god damned thing about you, and yet your private shit is making me insane. Please, just stop! Thank you for coming over yesterday. Thank you for saving me.”
“Three times.”
“God fucking dammit,” I roared, pulling down my cheeks with childish frustration. “Stop!”
“I don’t think you’ll want me to stop once you get me going, Aideen.” Julian leaned forward, pressing his lips to my forehead as Emma barreled back into the hallway. She stood at Julian’s side in awe, unashamed of her blush.
“Emma?” I questioned, taking her hand in mine, hoping to shake her from the stupor the drug of Julian caused. “We have to get back to work.”
I tried pulling her away, but Julian’s voice stopped both of us. Emma was between us, continuing to turn into a pink tulip while consumed by Julian’s existence. She can have him.
“Babby,” he called, “I’ve paid off the shop for the rest of the week. You don’t need to do anything. You can come with me now if you’d like. We have that dinner tonight. Remember? It would probably be easier if we’re already at my home since we’ll be arriving together.” No. I don’t remember, you arrogant bastard.
“What?” Emma giggled, dividing us and acting like a perfectly positioned buffer. He couldn’t get me without toppling her first; I just had to keep backing away.
“You did what?” I demanded, taking one small step in the opposite direction. His feet followed, stepping closer to Emma.
“I paid off your expenses for the week.” Julian shrugged as though the ten thousand dollars was nothing to him.
“I’d prefer if you didn’t do that. I don’t like owing people money.”
“It’s a gift.” His brows met, honestly concerned. “Take it.”
Emma glanced between Julian and me, unsure of where to go or what she should do. I watched her nervously study our faces, hoping for a clue from one of us.
“Come home with me, Aideen,” Julian implored, stepping closer to Emma and me, his expression sincere as his deep blue eyes slightly squinted with the soft smile spreading on his lips. His hands extended, effortlessly lifting in the air for me to take.
“Come home,” he continued, now stepping around Emma while I froze. “I don’t beg.”
“I know,” I challenged, inhaling a shaky breath once Emma cleared our path. Julian’s palms cupped my face, tilting my head toward his to capture my gaze.
“You don’t beg, and I don’t go home with killers,” I whispered as Julian leaned down, a small scoffing laugh tickling into my ear.
“My gag wouldn’t have been fun if I let you die yesterday, Aideen.” His words were against my neck, his breath fanning my skin like a flame catching its ignition and spreading. “Don’t forget how many times I’ve saved you.”
“I only asked once.”
“A mistake?” Julian pulled his head back to look at me, his eyes skeptical as they examined my face. “Why did you drink so much, Aideen?”
“That’s none of your business,” I snapped, folding my arms against my chest. I have to protect my heart and this nagging tug. Julian nodded over my shoulder, probably to his goons, and returned his penetrating gaze to mine.
“If it had something to do with me, then I certainly believe it’s my business. You’re my business.”
“Kindly go fuck off somewhere. Goodbye.” I stepped to my right, narrowly squeezing between Julian’s hip and the counter behind us, but he anticipated my movements like a stealthy hawk, prepared to hold me hostage in the searing burn of his hand.
“I was hoping our first public fight would be about something more substantial than you drinking too much while alone.” He grabbed my arm, his fingertips pressing into the inside of my bicep as I spun back toward him. “You’re not going anywhere. I’m not going to fuck off somewhere. We’re going to go to my home together. Right now.”
“I’m not your business,” I seethed, glaring up at his glowing eyes that burned into mine. His head hung in irritation before Julian released my arm and bounded behind me toward the office. I heard Emma shuffling around while I chased him. I should run away, but his goons are in the front. I’m stuck. Emma’s cheeks reddened while she listened to Julian. His back was to me when I finally caught up, making himself vulnerable to my attack. Had Emma not glanced past him to see me, he probably wouldn’t have known I was there and I could have done some serious damage. Why do you even care so much? You’re not a violent person!
“You’ll enjoy the time off.” Julian continued speaking with Emma, as though I hadn’t interrupted, but turned around to flash his masterfully manipulative smile when he recognized I arrived. “Ah, there you are, darling.”
“Oh my God,” Emma cooed, swooning for Julian. She had no idea what she was doing, and I was seconds from banging their heads together. They can have one another. She can have Liam too. I forgot about his phone call until then—he wanted to meet with me to talk about something he felt Julian wouldn’t explain. He knows Julian quite well. The man spoke in mysterious riddles, only giving away enough to keep my heart adhered to the unknown. It was devastating and fascinating, both traumatizing in their own right.
Julian turned toward me, extending his muscular arm in my direction, and I melted into him without a second thought. My fucking brain. I need a lobotomy. I didn’t know why it was so natural, but my heart simply knew there was a body waiting to hug me, to hold me against it, and I clung to it without thinking through to whom I adhered myself. He smells so nice. See, it’s shit like this that I do which keeps him thinking I want to play his stupid games. But he smells so nice!
“Babby,” he kissed my hair, eliciting a series of giggles from Emma, “Emma here mentioned you had a suitcase in the office. You didn’t tell me you spent the night here.”
“There are a lot of things I don’t tell you,” I muttered against his chest, “just like there are plenty of details you omit when speaking with me, darling.”
Julian’s face pressed to my head, his mouth nuzzling against my ear so only I could hear his humored words. “Gag or rope,” his threat tickled my hair, “you decide.”
“Emma.” I ignored him, turning my head to escape the perfume of Julian Molloy. “Have you met his brother? He’s quite the catch. I should introduce you two.” Julian stiffened, his arm tightening around my shoulders while I spoke, challenging him with each word.
“Um…” Emma shyly placed hair behind her ears, smiling at Julian and me. “That’s okay. I’m with Felix. Sort of.”
“Isn’t Liam lovely?” I looked up at Julian, placing my palm against his strong chest. “Come to think of it, he’s supposed to come in today.”
“Emma,” Julian’s jaw grinded through his polite grin, “would you let my companions out front know that we’ll just be another moment?” Emma nodded, dismissing herself at his request like she was one of Julian’s pawns. The moment we were alone, Julian’s hands wrapped around my shoulders, his palms pressed around me with his impenetrable grasp.
“You don’t play fair,” he grumbled while pushing me into the office, not caring that I was forced to walk backward.
“I thought we weren’t playing.”
He looked up at me, his eyes the only warning I needed. “Don’t discuss my family with anyone. Ever.”
“It’s just Emma, and Liam is your brother,” I protested, watching Julian scan the office for my suitcase. He knelt against the floor to seal the zipper before standing and approaching me, his posture towering and imposing.
“It isn’t just Emma,” he mocked, ridiculing my intelligence. “Emma Daly is not a friend of yours. And Liam, I don’t want to hear his name on those precious lips of yours ever again.” Not my friend? Now I couldn’t even talk to Liam?
“Are you going to be this cruel in public, Mr. Molloy?”
“Cruel?” His face contorted, full of insult from my question, eyeing me expectantly.
“Are you going to alienate me, tease me with your insight, and belittle me when we’re out in the real world, pretending to be hopelessly in love with one another? Are you going to threaten me out there? Am I going to feel as pathetic out there as I do in here?” Without a verbal response, Julian lifted my suitcase into his right hand and wove his fingers through my left, pulling me with him as he stormed from the office. His strides were powerful, almost painful to keep up with, and determined. He was getting us out of the coffee shop as quickly as possible, and the nagging tug inside battled my heart. We breezed by Emma, her head spinning in our dust.
Two men waited for Julian, one of whom I recognized as David. Both were dressed in all black, their suits covered by coats that probably concealed a multitude of weaponry. As we approached, Julian’s grip dangerously tight, the men separated and allowed us to pass through their wall of protection. Julian’s foot held the door for me while I struggled to maintain his pace, but he refused to look back. The snow continued falling overnight, adding inches to the present blanket already covering Boston.
“Get in,” Julian grunted while dropping my suitcase in the snow and opening the door to the backseat of the familiar black Mercedes. I stalled, my heart hesitant in its beating.
“Get in the damn car,” he muttered, his face lifted to glare at me with such angst, such primal determination, that I froze. His hand was quick to wrap around my back, gently shoving me into the backseat. I stumbled, falling onto the seat face first, but the gentleman that was Julian Molloy gave my bottom a push. Pervert. With the doors closed, the car filled with an overwhelming silence. Please, someone turn on the radio.
“There are few things that truly bother me, Aideen, but you need to understand that your disrespect won’t be tolerated.” Julian’s tone was debilitating, the sound alone enough to tighten my throat. I turned to him, surprised when his eyes hung with a haunted depth that suggested, possibly, he was no longer as livid as he had been while shoving me into his car.
“David,” he hollered to the driver, his eyes locked on mine, “my home. Please.” I couldn’t imagine what depravity or content lingered behind his eyes. I couldn’t begin to comprehend what he witnessed or knew through those stunning blue eyes.
“Was press outside?” I choked, my throat dry as I risked communicating with him. Julian’s head shook, a slow and deliberate movement, while he licked his lips.
“Me touching your bottom was for my own pleasure,” he teased, fighting a smile at the corner of his mouth, “and you weren’t moving quickly enough.”
“You can’t treat me like that.” My confidence bubbled, beginning to return beneath the cloud of angst. “I won’t stand for it.”
“I won’t allow you to disrespect me in such a manner either,” he rebuked, “so I guess we’re even then.” Julian’s eyes flickered from mine, dropping to the ground while he wiggled into his coat and buckled the seatbelt across his lap. I studied him in awe, transfixed by how each hair on his perfectly groomed head was meticulously placed. Yet the further I examined him, our faces only a foot apart, I wondered if the shadow along his jaw was normal, if the gray darkness beneath his eyes was the truth.
Isolated with only each other in the back of his car, I examined Julian Molloy, memorizing each line around his eye, every muscle fluttering with his clenched jaw, and I felt my heart ache. The pain was familiar, like a spoken word long since forgotten but ever present.
“We’re even,” I repeated, mindlessly watching him. “Both lonely. Always have been?”
“We have,” he whispered, lifting his fist to his mouth while his elbow rested against the window. I turned away, my glance following the monochromatic blanket of white that we passed while driving to Julian’s home. He knows something. I was on thin ice, and he was a sledgehammer, ready to break me if I said the wrong thing. I needed to figure it out, or at least determine how to speak with him, before my mind exploded. This isn’t the right time. He’s clearly still upset with me. The ass touched my bum. Oh, he’ll be my first tally if he keeps that up.
Silence lingered heavily around us for the remainder of our drive; the only sounds coming from Julian were the soft padding of his body moving or the hushed vibration of his unanswered cell phone. Once we arrived at his building, David pulled along the curb at the front door. Of course his sidewalk is shoveled and clear. Rich people.
“Sir,” David spoke to Julian, acknowledging our arrival. Julian tapped on the window before opening the door. He slid out from the backseat rather fluidly, like dark silk flowing in a warm breeze. Silently, he reached for my hand. His skin was warm, invigorating, and powerful wrapped around me. I let him help me down, aware of my previous warnings while in public with Julian, and kept my head toward the ground. He smiled and nodded in greeting to three people we passed on our way to the elevator, pausing to intertwine our fingers with his left hand while reaching around my shoulders with his right as we waited for the elevator to arrive.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Molloy.” A man slowly inched off the elevator, his age showing through speckles of gray in his brown hair. “Haven’t seen your grand-dad as of late.”
“It’s nice to see you, Mr. Hill.” Julian’s tone lifted, returning to the charismatic senator-wannabe. I couldn’t disagree any longer; it was intoxicatingly hypnotizing.
“He’s been busy,” Julian continued. “I will let him know you’re looking for him.” The man’s eyes roamed toward me, scanning the length of my figure with glee, his tongue licking his bottom lip in sordid approval.
“And who is this fine maiden?”
I blinked, my breath hitching as Julian’s hold of my shoulder and fingers clenched, covetously tightening around me.
“This is my girlfriend, Aideen Leary,” Julian replied, his tone dropping slightly, perhaps only noticed by me. “We’re heading up. Have a good evening.”
“Hope to see you again soon. Both of you,” the man promised, his left eye winking at me while we stepped into the elevator and the doors closed. These perverts. I can’t deal. Julian released my shoulder, but not our fingers, and stretched across the elevator to enter his floor.
“Deviant,” he muttered beneath his breath, the words trickling out with a sigh, certainly hoping I hadn’t heard his words.
“Did you say something?”
“No.” His response was curt, painfully brief, the tone of which left much to be desired.
“My hand,” I whispered, wiggling my sore fingers between his. His head snapped toward mine, impassively staring at me upon releasing our shared contact. Yikes. This is going to be a wonderful ride. As the doors opened, my chest filled with panic that consumed me days prior. Nobody would hear me scream. One door. Long hall. Julian Molloy. I worried he sensed my tension, the shortened breaths that struggled to leave my chest, but he hadn’t spoken more to me. Leaving me wanting, as promised.
I followed him through the foyer, fearful as we returned to the scene of Julian’s emotional crime. We were back in his home, together.
Julian hung his coat in a small closet, kicking off his shoes inside, before turning to me. Without words, he motioned for me to follow his footsteps. When I caught up with him, almost crashing into his back, he turned a doorknob and opened the panel, revealing a second bedroom. The room was smaller than his and contained a bed that screamed for my dreams to occur on it, covered in thick, plush fabrics of rich blue and crisp white. I waited in the doorway, watching Julian navigate the space while my mind hung onto the details of our car ride. Julian pressed some buttons on a remote resting on a white dresser near the door, and a panel lifted from the wall opposite the bed as I entered the space. Blue flames were quick to rise from the exposed gas fireplace, immediately warming the room with heat and glow. My suitcase was brought in before us and rested on top of the plush bed. He wasn’t speaking to me, and I also opted for silence.
My arms were tightly crossed around my body, fidgeting with the mess dangling from my ponytail. Julian slowly paced the room, crossing from one task to another, before stopping at the bed. What is he doing? Julian opened my suitcase, his long fingers sifting through the pile of things I grabbed in my hurry to leave my apartment. Nothing matched. In fact, I don’t even remember what I packed.
“There is no dinner,” I mumbled, glancing at the slowly burning blue flames of his gas fireplace. “Is there?”
“No.” Thought so. He continued to sort through my luggage, his head shaking in disgust or disdain. I didn’t know—he wasn’t talking.
“There will be one this weekend, though,” Julian finally said. I inched closer to the bed, studying his movements. He took his cellphone from the front pocket of his pants, entering a number before turning away from me and staring at the fireplace.
“Maureen,” he said, “I need a favor. Yes. I don’t know…” Julian stepped back to the suitcase, his fingers sifting through until he found a pair of jeans, holding the tag down with his index finger while resuming conversation with his sister.
“Size eight,” he continued, “thank you.” Julian stuffed the phone back into his pocket and leaned his bottom against the mattress.
“Buying my body bag?” His head hung in response. He’s smiling. Definitely buying my body bag.
“No, Aideen.” He chuckled. “I’m not buying your body bag. Maureen’s buying you clothes. You packed in a hurry.”
“I couldn’t stay there.”
“I know, babby.” His head shook before his blue eyes met mine, beckoning my stare. “We need to talk about it.” My mouth gaped, watching Julian’s hand extend toward mine.
“Truce?” His question came through grinning lips, parting with a friendly smile. My eyes drifted from his hand to his face, worried, nervous, overly paranoid, yet his eyes lifted with his smile, calming me.
“Take my hand, Aideen,” he assured me, “no games. No rope.”
“No gag?” The sound of Julian’s laughter, the vibrant hum that swirled like a pleasurable tornado, consumed me. The smile that followed was even more detrimental.
“No, Aideen. No gag. Just two old friends having a conversation.”