Aideen
The hissing espresso machine drilled into my already throbbing brain, piercing the tissue damaged by my chronic migraine. I wiped the nozzle and poured steamed milk into the large red mug, my trembling hand unable to decorate the foam.
“That looks like bird shit,” Elliott mumbled as he passed by, carrying a platter of baked goods toward the glass case at the front of our shop. That’s appropriate because that’s how I feel.
“At least it tastes okay.” I groaned beneath my shaking breath. Dropping the damp cloth against the counter, I followed Elliott to the case. He was meticulously placing baked goods, creating intricate patterns and designs that would be erased within an hour after the morning rush.
“That’s pointless,” I teased, pressing my palm against my aching forehead. Elliott didn’t look up at me as he spoke, his fingers hovering over a platter of tiered chocolate ganache mousse cups.
“If it looks good, people will want it. When people want it, we make money. When we make money, you and I can finally get the hell out of here.”
“Someday.” I leaned my elbows against the counter. Elliott straightened, a hand on his hip. I saw him staring at me in my periphery, but I didn’t have the energy to turn.
“Someday we are getting out of here. I’m going to rescue you.” His hand pressed against my back, lightly moving in circles. “There! Beautiful. Look at this, Aid.”
I glanced at the display, smiling at his effort. “Beautiful. I’ll be in the back. I need to take something for my head.”
“Another headache?” I knew Elliott was trying not to reprimand with his tone, but I felt his judgment before the question fell from his lips.
The brass bell clunked at the door, breaking Elliott’s pitiful glare while I walked away from him. I closed the office door behind me, reveling in the momentary silence. Closing my eyes only increased the throbbing, so relaxing wasn’t an option. I pulled open a desk drawer, sorting through some notes and capless pens in search of a painkiller. There was a small bottle of ibuprofen that expired a century ago, but I greedily swallowed the remaining two pills and stepped out of the office. I overheard Elliott’s buzzing voice, intrigued by the heightened inflection in his tone. Cautiously peering around the corner, I noticed he was deep in dialogue with a man and woman. I struggled to recognize them through my hazy vision, unable to place them in my mind as it battled with pain.
“There she is.” Elliott stepped from the counter when he saw me peek at him. He pulled on my arm, dragging me out to meet his companions.
“Ah.” The woman smiled at me, extending a hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Leary.” I looked at Elliott, curious as to why he so casually told them my name.
“Yes.” I politely returned her gesture. “Did you two need some coffee? We don’t actually open for another half an hour, but—”
Elliott’s throat cleared, interrupting me. “This is Julian and Maureen.” Elliott spoke as though I should know them like the back of my eyelids. “They come every week and nearly buy out our inventory for a month. They’re like the reason we’re in business, Aid. We practically owe them our lives.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” The man smiled, waving his hands. “Not yet.”
I studied Julian and Maureen, feeling entirely beneath them in faded jeans, a Suffolk sweatshirt, and my hair in a messy pile, while they stood in thick wool and fur. Maureen’s enormous pearl earrings weighed so heavily on her earlobes that they dropped onto the high collar of her dark fur coat. I didn’t know anyone actually wore fur anymore. I assumed PETA eradicated that trend long ago. Beneath the open collar of Julian’s wool coat, I saw the knot of a tie. They were fancy people. Elliott and I were not fancy people. When I finally lifted my eyes from examining the intricacies of their attire, Elliott was staring at me expectantly.
“I’m sorry?”
“You’ll have to forgive her.” He blushed, placing an arm around my shoulders. “My partner’s a bit under the weather today. Anyway, I’ll fill your next order and send another invoice by Tuesday.”
“Sounds great.” Maureen’s bright teeth sparkled between perfectly red lips. “We’ll see you before then, I’m sure. Goodbye, Elliott. Nice to meet you, Miss Leary.”
“You too,” I muttered, leaning my elbows on the counter. “Officially.”
Julian shook Elliott’s hand once Elliott finished running his card, returning it to Julian’s manicured grasp. I waited for the bell to jingle, signaling their departure, before turning to Elliott. He anticipated my reaction, a knowing grin spread along his lips.
“Damn. They left their copy of the invoice. You need to be nice to our customers.” He playfully tapped the order form on my head. “Julian and Maureen are Molloys.”
“So?”
“Gordon Molloy.”
I lifted my head, silently questioning his expectation that I knew who Gordon Molloy was.
“The state senator,” he groaned. “That’s their grandfather.”
“So what? Why are you so hot over that?” I stuffed my hands in the front pocket of my sweatshirt and turned to lean against the counter.
Elliott scoffed, shaking his head at me. “You’re clueless, Aideen. Don’t you read the news? Ever? I don’t understand how someone as smart as you…never mind, Aid. I’m sorry. The Molloys are the epitome of corruption.”
“And we do business with them. Wonderful.”
“It wasn’t like we had a choice. You were…” Elliott cringed before continuing. “You were in the hospital when Maureen first came in to buy a bulk order.”
“So while I was there, you made deals with the devil.” I shook my head, wishing my memory was intact.
“We didn’t have a choice. You’ve seen our financials.” He groaned. “They offered to buy for a period of time, over market price, by the way.”
“Absolutely not.” I shook my head, rattling my headache even more painfully. “You cannot sell to corrupt politicians.” The bell shook against the door once more, and I knew I appeared to be a gaping fool.
“I’m sorry.” Julian returned to our view while he collected a piece of paper from the counter in front of Elliott. “I forgot our copy of the invoice.”
“Have a good day, Mr. Molloy.” Elliott blushed in Julian’s presence. Julian simply nodded at Elliott, saving the grin of his blindingly white teeth for me before leaving.
“Something tells me you’ve already signed our deal with the devil, Elliott Daly.” He turned to me, his blue eyes wide with a frightening understanding that terrified me. I knew of the Molloys. I hadn’t lived under a rock, even after being forced to live like a recluse in the halls of Saint Mary’s Hospital. Their bright teeth and sparkling eyes were all over the local and national news. Everyone knew who the Molloys were.
“This is just peachy,” I groaned, shaking my pounding head. “I’m going to do inventory. You can open and just keep signing away our lives while selling some coffee. When Emma gets in, tell her I’m in the back.”
“Fine,” he grumbled remorsefully. Spinning on my heels, I tried my best to storm away from Elliott into the confines of our hidden storage area, hoping to block out the pain and nerves for at least half an hour. The door was ajar, probably my fault, as I slid into the back room and flipped on the lights.
“Jesus!” I screamed, clenching my heart. Julian’s hands lifted defensively, hovering between us as though I was a wild animal he could subdue.
“I’m sorry.” A smile flirted with his mouth, spreading over his bright teeth while he hesitantly approached my quivering form. My left hand was latched to the doorknob, unable to move, while my right was glued to the light switch. I was posed in the least defensive posture; heck, I was practically inviting him to me. Swallow. Breathe. His overcoat was open, revealing his black suit coat and pants.
“My sister,” he began speaking again, “she can be rather intimidating. It doesn’t appear that Mr. Daly communicated our deal with you.” Damn you, Elliott. I hate you.
“I want to apologize. That wasn’t how I hoped to meet you, Miss Leary.”
“Ai—Aideen.” Oh, great. I can finally speak, and all I can do is give this creep my name. I should be screaming, but I offer my name. Lovely. His hands lowered, realizing he tamed the lioness, and lifted only slightly to touch the elbow of my arm grasping the life out of the door. The jolt burned through my body, beneath layers of sleeves, into my heart and resonated in my skull. The pain in my head subsided. He must be a wizard. I have to get out of here.
“As I was saying,” Julian continued, his face inches from mine, “I apologize for her intensity and for Mr. Daly not discussing more with you.”
“You could have done this in a more appropriate way.” I swallowed, feeling the heat from his body while he towered over me. When Julian’s hold fell from my elbow and his hands tucked into his pants pockets, I recognized the sparkle of silver against his hip. Shit.
“I could have.” He grinned. “But I like surprises.” Julian lowered his face toward mine and lifted my chin so I couldn’t break eye contact. I’d been through a lot; I feared death many times, but being isolated in a dark, lonely place with Julian Molloy and his gun brought an entirely new definition of fear into my veins.
“Do I frighten you, Miss Leary?”
Fuck, yes. “Aideen.”
“Do I frighten you, Aideen?”
Did you not just read my fucking mind? “No.”
He knew I was lying. I knew he knew. I heard the smile in his voice when he mocked me and used my name, lowering his head to the side of my face. I just need to remind myself to breathe and I will survive this moment.
“Good.” His mouth was at my ear, and I waited for the crackle of his voice before breathing again. “But you shouldn’t let down your guard. Boston can be a frightening place to the unaware.”
I don’t know if my heart fell to my feet or if it joined the bile rising in my throat. Julian left me frozen in the back room, my left hand still clinging to the door. I had to move my right hand from the light switch to allow his exit. Thankfully.
As frightened as I was, I stormed from the room that now smelled like a spicy mix of nutmeg and musk to find Elliott. My feet wouldn’t work. I pinched myself. I am stronger than this. Some politician, his stupid hint of an accent, and his blinding smile weren’t going to fool me into submission. Closing the door of the back room, I headed toward the coffee bar, planning on tearing my friend to pieces.
“Aid,” Elliott cooed when I turned the corner.
“Miss Leary.” Julian grinned. Why the hell is he still here? Smiling.
“Elliott.” I stared at him, willing him to read my mind and call the police. “I think you should finish the inventory.”
His brows met, but Elliott refused to move from the counter. “I’m making Mr. Molloy’s coffee.”
“I just can’t get enough of it.” Julian winked at me, causing my stomach to knot.
Elliott was oblivious to the fact that man could have shot, strangled, or murdered me mere feet away—and for no reason whatsoever! Julian’s smile was hiding that possibility dangerously well. Elliott grinned like a school girl, making coffee for his schoolyard crush.
“You just can’t get enough of the coffee?” I clarified, hoping to intimidate the creep with my icy stare.
“This is the third time you’ve been in here within the last thirty minutes, Mr. Molloy.” I continued, “I’m sure you have a busy day of saving Boston ahead of you.”
“That’s my grandfather’s job,” he scoffed, “but I’ll do my best to keep the city safe.”
“Please do.” I smiled the fakest smile I could muster, knowing my attitude would bite me eventually.
Elliott elbowed me, grunting and clearing his throat to gain my attention, but I was still glued to Julian in my vain hope a stare down would leave me less intimidated than I was only moments ago. Crap. An icy shiver ran along my spine, climbing up to my neck when I remembered exactly what I saw in the back room.
“And have a lovely day, Mr. Molloy.” Elliott handed Julian the steaming paper cup, wafts of espresso and hazelnut spinning into the air.
He gratefully took the cup, shaking Elliott’s hand once more before nodding at me. I watched the door open, staring it down while the latch clicked and waiting for Julian to clear the sidewalk, before turning to Elliott and smacking his shoulder.
“Politicians?”
“Ow! And yes.” While Elliott rubbed the injury, I contemplated telling him about the back room. I wanted to warn him, but seeing the reflective silver dangling from Julian’s hip suggested the police weren’t going to help us in any way.
“Fine.” I gave in, storming away from Elliott toward the back room. Thankfully, I was alone in the cold space while documenting how many bags of coffee and espresso beans we had in stock. I was two pages of coffee beans into my list when Emma’s curly hair popped around the door.
“Ell said you wanted to see me?”
“Hey.” I looked up from my tablet. “I need to talk to you about the schedule for this weekend. Elliott needs to go out of town, and I’ll be opening alone on Friday and Saturday.”
“Do you want me to come in? I was going to visit Felix, but it can wait.”
“Absolutely not. I just wanted to let you know the plan since you’re always my back up.” I smiled at Emma, watching her fidget with the chunky braid of curly hair wound down her shoulder.
“What’s wrong, Em?”
Emma glanced at me, her green eyes swollen. “It’s the same stuff. He’s calling me nonstop, begging to see you, asking for you. I’m trying to hold him off, but he’s losing it.”
“I wish you weren’t in the middle. I’m sorry, Emma. I really wish this didn’t have to happen.”
“No.” Emma shook her head. “Absolutely do not apologize. Our cousin is a piece of shit, garbage, worthless scumbag who should be in prison for what he did to you. We all know it.”
I tried to shake the thought of Malcolm from my mind, but it was futile. I loved her dearly, but Emma was a constant reminder of her cousin’s violent obsession with me. She looked nothing like Elliott and everything like Malcolm.
“I can’t even talk about men right now, Emma.” I closed my eyes tightly, processing the last six months, and the last half hour. I felt her hand against my wrist, bringing my focus back to the moment.
“Men? Plural?”
“It’s nothing.” I tried to laugh. “I just need a vacation. I want to leave Elliott here though.”
“Fine with me. My brother’s just as bad as any other man.” Emma nodded unfortunate agreement. “How long do you work today?”
“Too long.” I rested my head against her shoulder and walked out of the back room with her. Inventory could wait. That room gave me the creeps after almost dying anyway.
***
My apartment was a sauna, a welcoming box of heat thanks to the elderly couple below, who never let their place go any cooler than eighty degrees. Winter in Boston was beautiful from the inside, where it was at least eight-five degrees in our perfect little space heater of an apartment building. I dropped my bag, coat, shoes, scarf, and mittens in a pile on top of my shoes near the front door. I was depleted. I crossed the small length of my studio toward the kitchen, which I swear at one time must have been a bathroom because it was too small for even me to stand in and there were random pipes coming out of the walls and ceiling.
One pathetic pot of mushy macaroni and cheese later and I was on my bed with the television as my soundtrack. I mindlessly watched the news, waiting to hear if I could cancel my shift tomorrow morning thanks to the incoming winter storm, when flashing lights on the screen caught my attention.
“A spokesman for Senator Gordon Molloy claims the incident was isolated…right now, police are not providing any information…as you can see behind me, members of the Molloy family have gathered…” And there he was, the man who could have killed me but so graciously did not. Graciously. What a prick.
Julian was standing in front of his grandfather, his navy wool overcoat open at the front with his collar popped, revealing a navy suit, white shirt, and blue striped tie pressed tightly against his frame. His cropped brown hair was held in perfect waves despite the drizzling snow. Something was terribly wrong with me to even consider anything about that man as perfect…or even attractive. I tried to change the channel, but watching him appear so vulnerable, despite the fact he exuded confidence and intimidation, was addicting. I dialed Elliott, hoping to interrupt his romantic evening just out of spite for today.
“Hey, beautiful.” He answered calmly even though it was nearing nine in the evening.
“Listen, Daly,” I began, my eyes still glued to the muted television and its haunting image of Julian plastered on the screen, “have you seen the news tonight?”
“No. What’d I miss?”
“Your friends, the Molloy clan. Something’s going on. The press is all over it. Frankly, they’re bad for business.”
“What channel? Aid? Seriously. Look at that man in a suit.”
“They’re all in suits.” I scoffed, still unable to tear away my gaze.
“Look at Julian.” His voice was pathetically giddy.
“Julian Molloy is a creep.”
“Do you need to come over?”
I sighed, comforted. “I’ll be fine. See you in a few days then, right? I’ll miss you.”
“I love you, Aid. Call if you need me.” When our call disconnected, I snuggled into the covers on my bed and changed the channel. It didn’t work—the last thing I saw in my mind before finally falling asleep was Julian Molloy’s blue glare inches from my face while he imprisoned me at work.
***
Running. That’s what he taught me to do. I was fine. I was safe. But somehow, Malcolm kept me running. I anticipated each step, twelve strokes ahead of him, always trying to keep myself above ground. I ran through the park, smooth and fluid, but he was still behind me. He was getting so close I could smell the whiskey on his breath as the cloud swirled around me. I turned, hoping to gauge my distance then I slammed into a wall of muscle. I couldn’t look up as strong arms wrapped around me, suffocating me in such a deliciously protective way. I could breathe. Malcolm wasn’t there. I was safe.
“I’ve got you.” His voice tickled above my ear. “You’re safe. I’ll keep you.”
Sobbing, I glanced up, my head forced at the chin by his steady fingers. “Keep me?”
“You heard me. You’re safe.”
My heart pounded so loudly that my brain reciprocated, but all pain, all feeling melted as Julian’s lips crashed against mine. One of his hands lifted, pushing between us at our hips while he removed his gun. I didn’t care. I hated guns, but I didn’t care this time. I heard the power, the explosion, the destruction, but nothing mattered while my lips granted his tongue permission to my mouth.
I flew up, shaking with cold sweat in a panic. Okay. What the hell was that?