A man’s booming voice filtered into my room, breaking my slumber and vibrating against my door. “You need to!”
My eyes quickly opened, responding to the rapid pounding of my anxious heart within the confines of my shivering chest.
“Lower your voice,” another man demanded in a slow hiss. “We’re not alone.”
“Don’t fucking remind me,” the first man growled. It wasn’t Julian or Liam, not even David.
I waited, but nobody spoke again. I flinched at the sound of footsteps in the hall outside of my door, approaching before the knob slowly turned. I flew beneath my covers, my breath held tightly enough to fool the intruder.
“A—” His whisper was faint, almost inaudible, but a welcome noise that caused warm tears to wiggle from my painfully sealed eyelids. Julian. The door closed, and within a second, his footsteps retreated.
I caught my breath but struggled to hear their muffled conversation. I needed to move closer to the door; the feather-stuffed pillows blocked out too much noise. I tossed off the covers and threw my legs over the side of the mattress. My knees were still wobbly, struggling to support me as I slunk down and pressed my head to the floor in hopes of seeing or hearing anything from behind the door.
“Asleep…no.” It was Julian, his hushed tone nearly a growl with curt irritation. “Alive…who do you…” I couldn’t decode his broken dialogue. Taking an enormous risk, I slowly opened the door and kneeled against the floor. My nerves pumped pure adrenaline through my veins, blood removed and replaced by the frightening sensation of fight or flight.
“I’ll ask the Sheehan family, but odds are they won’t offer much. They’ve been in with the Youngs since day one,” one of his companions said more calmly, his voice direct.
“You’re asking to die then, Dad?” Liam scoffed. “You may as well just deliver Julian, his own gun pointed to his forehead.”
“That’s not what he’s saying, you fool,” another man snarled. “If the Sheehan family knows we’re suspicious, they might get the Youngs to wiggle from their den. Your only other option before starting a war is the Regan family.”
“No,” Julian’s voice broke through the small crack of my door. “I’m not involving them. We’re not involving them.”
“It wouldn’t be involving if you’d simply marry their daughter, Julian.”
“Ha!” Liam’s laughter rumbled in the air. “Am I the only one in our family who hasn’t lost it?”
“I haven’t lost it.” Julian’s voice was maliciously arrogant, filling me with fear. “I worry that our father and grandfather have.”
“You got into this mess, Julian. You need to clean it up on your own.”
“Tonight is just another example of the risk being part of this family presents on anyone. Even being associated with us is trouble. Do you think I want to put anyone at risk like this? Honestly,” Julian roared, “I don’t want the damn seat if this is what it does! If it threatens people I care about, give it to someone who can handle that. If I lose her again…I swear to God…”
“Cut the bullshit.” One of the men laughed. “You get shot, you cry, get over it.”
“Please don’t bring this up,” Liam bellowed. “He got shot because…Jesus…we’ve been through this, Julian. Let it go.” I’m so confused right now, I want to break my head in half.
“Need I remind you I was shot because you deemed it necessary to sleep with the daughter of Charles Foley, whom apparently I also need to remind you is an associate of the Youngs, and I happen to look almost identical to you?” Julian’s shout vibrated the walls. “Christ, Liam. Your dick gets this family into too much goddamn trouble. And yet I am the one who has made a mistake. If you think for one second that what I’m doing is hurting you all, any of you, then get the hell out of my house and never call on me to help lead this family again.” Silence.
“That’s not what they’re saying.” I recognized Maureen’s voice break the cloud of hostility. “Julian, if you call in the other families, it will gain you more support to take on Grandfather’s seat.”
“That was shot to hell,” one of the other men groaned, “the second he found her room in the hospital.”
“Don’t fucking start,” Julian rebuked. Who? What?
“I’m calling the Sheehans and Regans tonight. They might be able to help us figure out who threatened your life, Julian,” Liam interrupted the quarrel. “If we need to bring in more families, we will.” Swallow. More…families? Like…more dangerous people with guns, rope, and…tattoos?
“I despise this,” Julian snarled, his tone low and gruff. “The only thing I fancy about being part of this family is the fact that I am alive and in good health. Everything else is torture. I can’t breathe, I can’t think, I can’t exist without the pressure of supporting the empire you created that goes against all morals of any normal human being.” We aren’t normal. He isn’t normal.
“Get off your soapbox, Julian,” one man’s voice cracked. “You’re in line. You own it. If you’re next, you fucking handle your shit.”
Oh my God. Footsteps filled the hallway, and I froze, unsure of what to do or where to hide. Maureen’s heels clicked loudly, sticking out from the steps of whichever men accompanied her. Other families. Next in line. Empire. I scampered from the floor and into my bed, tightly cocooning my body in the layers of blankets and sheets. Families. Trouble. Lead. As pieces of the disturbing puzzle fell together, my stomach twisted, twirling around itself with painfully anxious realization that I found myself in the middle of the Molloy family’s secret meeting. Secret. Omission. Research. Lead. Tattoos. Crosses. I’m going to die.
I couldn’t count how long I held myself prisoner in the luxurious linens of my bed. I lost track after counting the uneasy seconds that passed while footsteps left and entered the foyer, moving around too much to keep track of who was actually inside with me, with us. What I did know was that my bladder reached its full distention, and I shivered from the inability to avoid using the bathroom. Oh, you know, because that requires actually leaving this bedroom and crossing the hall, where one of these people might end me if they figured out I eavesdropped. Not that I understood the extent to which they spoke, but after the way the evening developed, there was absolutely no desire in me to be caught by one of the men I overheard earlier. It was pathetic, but I looked around for a cup, for anything that would let me stay in my cell a little longer. You’re disgusting. They know you’re here. Just use the toilet and go back to bed. Right? Right.
Reluctantly, and filled with trembling urgency to use the bathroom and overall fear of a Molloy murder, I climbed from my bed. The doorknob was warm beneath my touch, electrified with the tension that lingered in Julian’s home. I turned it tightly, preventing the latch from clicking and signaling my presence. I slowly opened the door with my breath held. I peeked into the hall, glancing both ways before sprinting to the bathroom. Blood pumped into my ears and rattled my busy mind. Once inside, I dropped my leggings and knickers to my knees as I hurriedly ended the torture of too many bubbles at the theatre. Oh, right, the reason we were even able to be blown up by a bomb. I hastily shuffled back into my clothes and washed my hands, flushing the toilet with my foot. I didn’t waste time inspecting my face, sure that it appeared as red and swollen as it felt, instead reaching for the door to make my hurried return to bed. Be stealthy.
“Oh!” My heart stopped as the door turned independent of my hand, my stare locked on a white t-shirt.
“Shh,” Liam pressed, holding his index finger to my gaping mouth. Like I’m going to scream. Is he nuts? Hey, killers, dangerous people, and your equally violent families, come and get me. I’m right here! I don’t think so.
“I’m sorry I startled you,” he whispered, placing his hands on my shoulders. “I learned you were awake, and I wanted to inform you that we have a doctor here to look at you.”
“You learned I was awake?”
Liam nodded. “David’s been at your door all evening, bird.” Oh my god. Had he heard me eavesdrop? Did David listen to me cry?
“You people have a serious issue with stalking.” I shook free of Liam’s hands, squeezing between him and the doorframe. He stopped my departure as I hovered halfway into the hall with his hand locked around my wrist. I observed his subtle smile when I glanced back at Liam.
“Just get checked over, then back to sleep. I promise.” His eyes spoke of urgency, sparkling blue in the dimly lit hall. “I’ll go with you if that helps.” Helps? This fool is kidding, right?
“You think after how you spoke to me, threatened to kill me, I would feel safer having you in a room with me? Forgive me while I go end my life on my own terms, Mr. Molloy.”
“It’s Liam.” His head shook. “And I already apologized for my crass behavior. Need I remind you that you’re alone with me right now? What else could happen to you?” Well, that opens up an enormous list. He read my mind, a small laugh leaving his throat while he released his hold on my wrist.
“Doctor Monroe is in the kitchen. The light’s better in there and, well, I can have a drink,” he mumbled, guiding me through the hall toward the kitchen. Its light was blinding compared to the rest of the house, radiating like a star at midnight. I studied Liam as we approached the door, his expression strangely calm.
A man spoke from the table, his tall figure leaning against the edge as he sorted through a hefty brown leather bag. “Ah, Miss Leary. You look surprisingly well. Better…” Compared to what?
“Better? I look better compared to what?”
Liam’s throat cleared, entering the space between the doctor and me. “Can we get on with this, please? She needs to return to bed, and I need to find my spot on the couch.”
“You don’t need to stay,” I muttered, suspiciously examining Liam’s features as his arms crossed. “I’ll be fine.”
“Considering I almost lost my balls after lunch,” he chuckled, his shoulder leaning against the wall, “I’d like to stay. I’d like to keep my manhood.” Gross. And to think there was a moment this evening I cried out for him instead of Julian—in my mind, of course. Shudder. Shiver. Boys are gross.
“Right.” Doctor Monroe stepped toward me and lifted the earbuds of his stethoscope toward his ears. “I’m going to listen to your heart and your lungs. Then I’ll want to just see how your head is. I hear you had another tumble.” Another tumble? I’d call this more than a tumble, Doc.
“Christ,” Liam snorted. “Just look her over and move along.”
I watched him while Doctor Monroe requested I inhale and cough, worried by the tormented furrowing of Liam’s brow. His eyes hid from mine, focused elsewhere in the kitchen, avoiding contact with me during the brief exam. Doctor Monroe declared my lungs were fine, but he was worried about my head. Aren’t we all? His palms cupped my skull from the front, his fingers pressing various points around my scalp.
“Would you say you’ve had any additional pain since the incident?”
“Tonight?” I queried, hoping to catch a hint from him without Liam interrupting. I was fascinated by the abrupt nature of Liam’s comments, halting Doctor Monroe each time he questioned how I felt in comparison to something, my mind set in a tizzy.
“Yes, bird,” on cue, Liam replied. “That’s what he’s talking about. Does your head hurt after you were thrown against the wall? Yes or no?”
“Not really.” I shrugged, my focus on Doctor Monroe. His hands fell from my head before he removed the stethoscope and organized his items. That’s all?
“So…that’s it?”
“Yes.” Doctor Monroe sighed, a warm smile on his face. “Just rest. I imagine that will be difficult, but try.”
“Where is your brother?” I questioned, eyeing Liam while Doctor Monroe zipped his small leather bag.
“Call me if your headaches worsen, Miss Leary,” he interrupted my inquiry. “I’ll be off then. You’ll be sure to remind your brother to change his bandage by six in the morning. He should be fine with a cool compress and sponge bath by then.”
“Lovely,” Liam scoffed, his eyes rolling with humor, “I can’t wait to give him one. I’ll remind him. Doctor Monroe, may I have one word with you in the hall, please?”
“Of course.” Liam and Doctor Monroe avoided my eyes as they stepped through the doorway together, Liam’s palm spread along the doctor’s shoulder while guiding him from the kitchen. Glancing around the room in Liam’s brief absence, I observed multiple mugs of half-consumed coffee, two empty bottles of wine, and several plates of food, all resting in peaceful disruption like a museum exhibit. How many people were here? I’d never seen Julian’s home in such a state of disarray. Because I’d been there so much and had developed expectations? Wow, girl. Wait. How does Doctor Monroe know about my headaches? Probably these infiltrative stalkers who told him my life story. God, they were incorrigible. Movement in the doorway distracted my wandering attention.
“Bed,” Liam sang, his arms stretching above his head, revealing the bottom of the tattoo along his abdomen. My eyes failed me, greedily drifting down to examine the line drawn over his sculpted body.
“Your tattoo,” I probed, folding my arms around myself, “tell me what it really means.”
“I’d have to kill you.” His smile stretched along his lips, pulling into a debilitating grin that rivaled Julian’s. Julian.
“Where’s your brother, Liam?”
“In bed.” His hands fell with a heavy sigh as he stepped out of the doorway and into the hall. “Just like you should be.” With Julian? Ha. Well…Liam’s arm wrapped around my shoulders, holding me tightly in his possession while guiding us further from the kitchen.
“I’m curious,” I whispered to him, approaching the door to my bedroom. “Why did someone try to kill me tonight?”
Liam’s blue eyes narrowed, squinting with a darkened aura that left my fingers numb. “It seems someone is always trying to kill you. Why don’t you tell me?”
“So it wasn’t someone trying to hurt your brother,” I scoffed, catching his gaffe. He inhaled deeply, running the fingers of his right hand though his cropped hair. He’s buying time.
“I think you two are the same in that department. Isn’t that how relationships go? Goodnight,” his index finger lightly tapped the tip of my nose, tormenting me, “bird.”