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Truth & Consequences (Boston Latte Book 2) by Fiona Keane (5)


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Five

 

 

I didn’t know who perplexed me more—Julian or Liam. He went from desperate, ruthless flirtation to threatening to kill me with his condescension alone. He knew something, he was keeping it from me, and I needed to know why. I didn’t even care what anymore. I wanted to know why. Although, the more I paced my room and thought about what the why might be, thanks to my thorough research, I questioned the validity of my previous thought. Nope.

I wasn’t getting any answers before morning, so I crawled back into bed and covered myself with the cocoon. It was so kind to me, the plush comforter filled with feathers from heaven. I stared at the ceiling for a while before drifting, but it didn’t last. The Molloys refused to allow me any semblance of comfort—except for my bed—that evening. Voices swirled in the hall once more, filtering beneath my door and again heightening my awareness and fear.

“I don’t need a reminder from you of who I am,” Julian growled, his tone fueled by rage that left my skin frozen, “and it won’t matter. The minute we get him, I’m going to snap his fucking neck with my own bare hands. If that’s what it takes to finally end him, to end this.”

Heat lifted from my chest, raising its powerful flame along my neck, burning my ears and throat. Julian just expressed a desire to kill someone, to end a life, within earshot of me. The rope, the gun, every secret he kept from me, and I never truly thought he would hurt me. There was something buried, something hidden, that reassured me. Maybe it was his smile, his protection, or the fact he ordered my coffee, but I hadn’t truly thought he was capable of ending me until then. It was in that moment I remembered the man who flashed his gun in the back room of the coffee shop, the man who threatened me with only a smile, the man who read my mind and knew my weaknesses. I flinched as a door slammed in the hallway, the vibration tickling the walls.

“Get the fuck out of here,” his voice roared again, followed by another door slamming and heels scurrying across the floor. Heels. Maureen. What the hell is going on out there? I tightened the covers around my body and brainstormed escape routes. There was nowhere to go if everyone decided to fight right outside of my room. Just my luck. It was uncharacteristic of the Julian I came to know to engage in such a public display of anger. To imagine he demonstrated restraint, knowing I was nearby and eager to learn, numbed my spine. If that was restraint, I couldn’t begin to fathom how he truly felt about whatever was discussed.

“You’re not going to make a strong leader if you put your extraneous dreams first, Julian Patrick,” one of the men mumbled, his voice just high enough for me to hear. “You should have killed him when the chance first presented itself, but you’re too busy playing games. Don’t make me question your judgment. Liam isn’t firstborn, but…”

“Liam is a goddamned child,” Julian moaned, his voice drifting into the distance, stilling my heart. “And there’s nothing extraneous about fate…”

His tone became a mumble, the deep vibration of his voice trickling into my room until I could no longer hear him. Extraneous dreams? I couldn’t imagine Julian was gifted the freedom to dream, let alone have thoughts irrelevant to what his family deemed necessary. I don’t know Julian. All of this is an impossibly pathetic attempt to use me as a pawn, a tool to protect his reputation against an arranged marriage.

My ears burned with steam that blew from them the longer I thought about Julian. He told me several times he didn’t want me to die, he would kill for me—why? I couldn’t put the pieces of their puzzle together, but my gears turned, and I was utterly terrified.

I waited for the voices to dwindle, for doors to stop slamming, before my mind allowed my heart to beat at a pace that wouldn’t automatically suggest cardiac arrest. I unrolled from the covers with a mess of hair covering my face. I feel like shit. Death. Crap. My head started to ache, the dull, painful reminder of so many unanswered questions. Well, screw this shit because I refuse to be a victim. I wasn’t going to have mystery pieces floating around, living in fear of something that might not even be. I wanted to find Liam and knock him in the balls, and I didn’t even know why. Stupid damn tattoo on his stupid hard abs. I mean, Jesus, who the hell is that guy?

The memory of Julian’s harsh, violent shouting at his guests tore back into my brain, striking my core. Who is he? No longer would I wait. He can kill me tonight, but I’m going. Yep. Just as soon as my feet begin to work again, I’ll climb from this bed and find him. Ha. I continued to sit, my eyes wandering everywhere but the door. I locked on the shreds of my dress piled on the floor in a depressing, nine thousand dollar heap. Someone tried to kill me tonight, to kill us. Us.

I don’t know where the ridiculous courage came from, having hidden under my covers more times that night than at the age of three, but enough was enough. I tumbled from my bed, reached for the doorknob, and opened the door. The hall smelled different, a heavy, hazy musk lingered around. It wasn’t Julian. It wasn’t even Liam. It was new, tortuously assaulting my sinuses. I listened for the slightest sound of life with my ears wide like an elephant.

I struggled to see in the dark space as I tentatively crept toward his bedroom. My heart was heavy, aware I’d memorized the route. I lost feeling in my bare feet, chilled by the hardwood floor and ripple of hesitation coursing through my veins.

Open the door, Aideen. All that separated Julian and me was a panel of wood. A moveable panel of wood. I cautiously wrapped my fingers around the knob, its metal radiating his heat, the erupting tension and rage of his evening lingering on everything with its toxic energy. I pulled in the latch so he wouldn’t hear me enter. I don’t know why I wanted to be silent. Maybe I was buying more time. I cracked the door open, adjusting my eyes to the dimly lit room.

Julian’s back was to me, the bandage along his right side visible in the glow of a small lamp on his bedside table. It failed to soften the room, the vivid, intense dark energy hung heavy with fury. His body was bare, only covered by gray sweatpants, while his left arm held his cell phone against his tilted head. I struggled to focus on the decorative lines along his shoulder blade, the outline of a clover surrounded by a looping cursive “A,” the white lines forming Gaelic, but those miniscule details meant nothing compared to what I overheard.

“There is more than a cost for being in this family,” he said through clenched teeth, his tone gruff. “I’m going to kill him if I need to, and you’ll make sure the rest of it is handled. I understand, but you’re also neglecting to remember with whom you speak. We have enough proof. Find him and bring him to me. I’m not going to let this happen to her again. Find him.”

Find him. Julian was clearly looking to make an eighth tally on his beautifully chiseled body. The thought of him killing someone again validated my fears. I wasn’t aware that I released the door to grasp my chest until I gained his full attention. Phone in hand, he spun around, his livid expression quickly melting into unease.

He hesitantly uttered my name as the phone fell on the floor with a light thud. I felt my eyes widen while he approached like a cornered animal. Don’t flinch. You need answers.

“It…it’s true,” I mumbled, my eyes locked with his, blue on blue in a flurried exchange of unspoken emotion. Anger, confusion, relief…lust. Fear.

Julian’s hands extended toward me. “You should be in bed.” His palms found my face, cupping my cheeks as he so often did, his touch delicate and endearing. It was impossible to resist the temptation to press into that touch, but it’s true.

“Don’t touch me.” My words came out in a quiet, degrading snarl.

“Please. Stop,” Julian whispered, attempting to hold my face once more.

As much as I wanted answers, having rehearsed my speech of insistence, I hadn’t understood the magnitude of my research, only half-heartedly believing the folklore provided from the Internet. I stormed away, directly into my room, and slammed the door behind me. The fucking mob. Well, crap. I need a new plan.

The door flew open before I caught a breath, still clutching my pounding chest. Julian’s left hand wrapped around his body, holding his open palm against the bandage. He’s in pain. Well, so am I!

“You’re not running from me,” he stated, his tone calm and direct. “Sit down.”

“Get out.” I turned away, but his grasp met my waist and spun me back to his view. Julian’s eyes were excruciatingly raw, exposing to me secrets I knew he buried deep within himself. My stomach knotted, reminding me to breathe. But I couldn’t, not when Julian’s hands glided along my arms to my throat, his long, warm fingers spread gently around my skin as his touch stabilized me.

“I have always been attracted to your intelligence.” He sighed, combing a hand through his tousled hair before looking at me again, his palms securing my shoulders. “I know you’re bright. I hate keeping things from you. I know you’ve been tracking pieces to the puzzle, putting them together, but you’re unable to talk to me about it. Why is that?”

“I’m not about to be your next tally mark, Molloy,” I scoffed, brazen with annoyance and adrenaline. “Why is it that you can’t leave a girl alone?”

“What happened tonight,” he paused, his voice heavy as his hands fell from my body, their vacancy burning in the cool air, “I’m trying to do everything I can to protect you.”

“Continuing your omissions only makes things worse. Don’t you think? You’re quite loud when upset, and so are your guests.”

“I fancy that mouth.” He fought a smile, his head shaking slightly with an exhale. “What did Doctor Monroe say about your head tonight?”

My brows met while I looked up at him. “What the fuck is with you and my fucking head?” Liam burst through the door, his face a contorted mess, and I resented the distraction as Julian and I turned to observe his abrupt intrusion.

“Now,” he demanded of Julian, his tone ominously fierce. Julian’s eyes shot back to mine, boiling with burden I could feel, before his footsteps echoed in the hall. Julian and Liam: both half naked, both beautiful, both deadly, and both in the damn mob.

I dug my fingers into my hips, painfully willing my mind to keep my eyes dry. No fucking way. The sounds in his home lessened, the eeriness of its emptiness increased with my awareness. I refuse. I refuse. I refuse. I tore open the door, adrenaline bubbling through my heated skin, briskly searching for Julian and his imbecile of a brother. Or is it the other way around? God. They’re both so gorgeous; of course they’re in the damn mob. Why would I want my life to be easy? Doesn’t everyone want to have death, the underworld, and secrets following their souls like shadows?

The hall was vacant, as dark and lonely as it was moments prior when I interrupted Julian. I caught the faintly flashing glow of the television from Julian’s living room. Nothing good happens to me in this room. Swallowing my nerves, those stupid things that told me to head in the other direction, I cautiously leaned around the doorway. Julian and Liam stood alone in the room, their backs to me, eyes glued to a news report on Julian’s television. Liam put on a shirt, thank Buddha, and was standing with his hands against his hips. Julian, still scrumptiously only in sweatpants, held a remote to the screen, the volume raising while we all listened. His arms crossed around his body, the strapping muscles of his back and shoulders rippled with each tense movement of his hold. My mind has problems. Think about what the heck I just learned, and my brain automatically reverts to thinking he’s eye candy. Oh my God, but he is. He isn’t. Stop. Oh, Buddha. Save me.

“…four are presumed dead in the explosion…police aren’t currently releasing details. A passerby noted the property once housed a tannery, which would explain the sensitive chemicals at the scene…another individual familiar with the area suspects drug use…we’re waiting for an update from police.” The anchor’s voice broke through an ineffective microphone, dropping pieces of her report, but my ears were wide. “It will for now be considered an unfortunate accident, not arson, until further examination.

“Did you do that?” My question tumbled from the doorway, causing Julian and Liam to spin around faster than a tornado. I wanted to melt. It was difficult to swallow, to breathe.

“Did we physically go to Southie, start an abandoned building on fire, and kill four people, bird?” Liam’s lips twisted into a grin, his eyes sparkling coyly while I went rigid in the doorway. “No,” he continued, “we didn’t do that.”

Julian was silent as he watched me. His arms were bound around his chest, the remote lifted to his chin and his head cocked down at me. His impassive expression filled me with burden. A heavy burden. I avoided Liam altogether, his arrogance disgusting me, and focused on Julian. I felt the hurt, a disturbing sense of betrayal, molding on my face. I don’t know why I felt he owed me that knowledge, as I much would have preferred not to know how deep my foray into his world would send me, but my instinct wished he was riddled with guilt and that, naturally, his nuts would fall off. Okay, maybe not that far. No, maybe that far.

“Liam,” Julian groaned, his eyes on me, “can you get one of my pills from the kitchen? Please?”

“Yes, sir.” Liam laughed, stepping toward me. His demeanor was so bizarre, uncharacteristically sinister. It chilled my core, having felt so comfortable around him that I actually wished we were together last night. Well, that ship sailed, sister. I didn’t want Liam. I didn’t desire anyone. I think. What I wished for was an explanation, an end to the mystery…and Julian. No, I just want Julian to speak right now. His stare is freaking me the fuck out.

“Did you?” I repeated, this time at a hush with Liam disappearing into the kitchen. Julian’s arms fell, his right hand tossing the remote onto the couch next to me.

“No,” he uttered, “it wasn’t me. It wasn’t Liam either, but we knew about it.”

“Why did you have a building explode?”

“Why didn’t you talk to Elliott Daly before he accosted you on the street?” Julian probed, wincing as his weight shifted. A small, peculiar, very twisted part of me wanted to lunge forward and help him. I wanted to check the bandage he held, somehow acting as a nurse to heal him. Remember, remember, you’re inches from death. Officially. Research concluded this, Aideen.

“Because I hate him.”

Julian shrugged, as though our feelings were equal and justifiable. “And people in my family hate people that were using this building. They saw a problem and handled it. Those weren’t good people, Aideen.” Wow. That was more information than he gave me in a week.

“And you are a good person?” Please, Buddha—anyone—be a good person, Julian.

His response was nonverbal, his approach slow and steady with both hands pulling against the back of his neck. His biceps swelled against his chest while his folded arms pulled down from whatever tension he battled. Silence. I could only shake my head at him, my heart swollen with…disappointment. I don’t know what I expected from him that entire time. Maybe the actual possibility of the safety he promised, but at least something legal. He killed a man in my home to save me. Legal went out the window a long time ago.

“I am,” he finally affirmed, his brows meeting with despondency above his vivid blue eyes. “That’s the truth.”

“Bird,” Liam interrupted, his presence behind me forcing me to jump, “why don’t you just say it? We’re all eager to hear your opinion about us now that you’ve concluded your research.”

“Fuck you now too, baby Molloy,” I spat. “I don’t know what’s up your ass, but you need to stop being such a dick. What the hell is wrong with you people? Where the hell am I? Honestly. This is absurd! Excuse me while I go die, because surely that is a nicer way to go than to end up in a building, burning to death.” I turned, inhaling an intensely shaking breath while my fists bound tightly in the hallway. Fucking Liam.

“And you.” I spun right into Liam’s chest, my finger pointing against the firm muscles of his abdomen. “Stop being everywhere I am.”

“Liam.” Julian’s voice boomed throughout the room, snapping Liam from his arrogant haze. Liam’s knuckles lifted to my cheek, slowly caressing from my right ear to my jaw, filling my heart with need. Need to get the hell out of that room. Need. His smile returned, the kind and flirtatious grin that held my attention during lunch.

“He knows, you know,” Liam whispered, his nose wrinkled with his grin. “Your browsing history isn’t private. But don’t worry, I’ve kept your questions a secret.”

“Liam,” Julian repeated, his hands adhering to my shoulders from behind. “Leave us. Please.” Liam’s hand fell from my face, quickly stuffing into the pocket of his sweatpants, before acknowledging his brother’s demand and retreating into the shadows of the hall. Julian. Alone with Julian. My heart was in my throat, bouncing back and forth between my tongue and belly, violently reminding me of the precariously invigorating effect Julian had on me. His weight shifted as he leaned his left arm against the doorway, removing pressure from his right side.

“We haven’t been alone since the theatre,” I informed him, breaking the silence and receiving a slow nod in reply. “You don’t like telling me much, but you need to start. If you want me to keep speaking to you…and part of me…” My voice trailed off, quivering with my unstable breathing.

“What, Aideen?” Julian urged, a finger lifting my chin to meet his bold gaze. I glanced away, unable to think. It wasn’t a thought, but a feeling, a sense of familiarity and habit that burrowed deep within my heart. That’s what lifted my hands to his face, greedily holding the warm skin that roughened with stubble, further defining his immaculate face.

“Part of me knows you want me to keep speaking with you.” He leaned into my hold, his eyes briefly closing as he succumbed to my touch.

“What do you know?”

I studied his expression, soft and calm with his eyes closed. I didn’t flinch; my gaze remained on Julian’s as his cold eyes slowly opened from silent slits to wide oceans filled with tidal currents.

“I know you need me to protect your reputation,” I stated, my words confident while my heart continued its violent assault. “And I know I haven’t signed your contract.”

“Because I trust you.” He winced, his bottom lip pierced between his shining teeth as he clenched in pain.

“What happened to you tonight? You’re…oh, God.” I reached for his arm to remove his pressure against the bandage. “You’re bleeding through your bandage! You need to change this and call your doctor.”

Julian moaned, his palm folding over mine as it touched his side, burning my skin between the warm sandwich of his hold. “I’ll be fine.”

“No,” I objected, uncertain where the urgency to care for Julian came from. “You need to change it now. Where are your extra bandages? Are they in the kitchen?”

“My bathroom.” He stood upright from the doorway and stepped into the hall. “I’ll be fine. Go to bed.”

“You’re stubborn.” I stood in front of him, bound toward his bedroom. He isn’t going to die and leave me alone in this house with Liam. Cheeky ass. Julian called for me from the hall, but I already started sorting through the bandages and ointments left lying out on his bathroom counter. I was unwinding the gauze when Julian limply stepped into his bedroom, his shadow falling into the doorway of the bathroom.

“You’re more stubborn,” he groaned, removing the soiled gauze from his side while I approached with a cloth soaked in alcohol. “Ah! Jesus!”

“Kills any infection,” I mumbled, wiping over the three gashes along his side. “What happened?”

“Pieces of the car.”

I unrolled the gauze and ripped the length with my teeth before applying it to his wounds.

“Why couldn’t I see you once we got here?” I felt his sigh ripple through my body in response, his exhale filling both of us with his regret. I felt it. I…knew it. I stared at him expectantly once the tape was applied, watching Julian lean over the counter, reach for his bottle of pills, and swallow two without any water.

“Why?” I persisted, battling his silent defiance. Is he buying time? Just like me.

“Because there are things of which you shouldn’t be a part, and I want to protect you. Christ, Aideen, I know I’m going about this all wrong, but fuck…” Fuck. He had that sentiment down precisely. It was without thinking that my arms flew around his neck, clinging to the bare skin that beckoned something deep within me, a powerful song, a sense of longing and home that called me to Julian.

“Babby.” His voice was low, inaudible to one who couldn’t translate his muted tone. But somehow, I spoke his language. I could translate the tone, the meaning, the taste.

I forced my lips upon Julian’s, and he didn’t resist. His hands fell from the bandage against his side, greedily holding me against him. His skin spoke to mine with its warmth, its possession. My hands roamed his injured, glorious body, reaching for his face and pulling his mouth toward mine. Beat, heart. He tasted of mint, coffee, and heaven. The flavor devoured my taste buds in one small lick of his bottom lip as it protruded for my teeth to bite. Julian. He is so…I couldn’t let myself ponder just how long I would allow myself to kiss him.

It was wrong to want that, to want him. It didn’t matter—my heart needed him. Him. But why? My lips were on his, again, and it was the only place they desired to be. His hands roamed, inching beneath the fabric of my thermal top, his fingers gentle and soft on my skin.

Julian’s touch radiated its burn with an endless shiver through me, leaving my skin pulsating at the mere sensation of his fingertips against my flesh. If he calls me “babby” one more time, I might lose it.

I reached for his mouth, that dangerous weapon, and squeezed his cheeks between the fingers of my right hand, pursing his pout for me to devour in the greedy hunger rumbling through me, my thirst quenched only when tasting his mouth. Fucking Julian Molloy. I hate him. No, I don’t. I want him. More. Than. Anything. Ever.

His hands continued their seductive assault, gliding along my body in their delicate torture as our tongues collided in an aggressive display of dominance and desire. Julian grasped my jaw and cocked it to the side with forceful need as his tongue discovered and consumed the sensitive skin of my neck, biting and licking his way along, sending ripples of delight through my skin. It felt too real, too familiar, the sense of Julian’s possession, his security. Despite my anger and confusion, he was comfort. There was no betrayal, no confusion. It was Julian. He was home. I shivered beneath the bite of his teeth against my clavicle, the goosebumps radiating across my skin.

His hands lowered, gliding along my arms to grasp my waist before he lifted me atop the counter, despite injury. It didn’t matter—we were both damaged, both desperate. My legs were quick to wrap around him in need, and my calves spared no mercy, wasting no time to pull his waist against me, my hands greedily lifting along his muscular back until I could hold his shoulders, pressing his warm, bare chest against mine. This feels too good. It is too…warm. Too hot.

“A—” My name was cut short as my mouth devoured his, consuming what I could of the rage and confusion we felt all night, destroying the banter and bliss of our date with the pain of the aftermath. My skin was riddled with a shiver, welcoming the sensation that pulsed through me as Julian’s hands roamed up my body, toward my arms, my breath hitching as his fingertips lifted toward my ribs. Julian.

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