Chapter Twelve #2
In my room, I drop the veil onto the bed and reach down to unbuckle the straps on my shoes, kicking them off one by one. My fingers fumble at the buttons of my dress, clumsy with hurry, but I manage. The fabric slides down and pools at my feet. I step out of it and leave it there on the floor.
Without stopping, I go to the few boxes still stacked against the wall, the last of my things that hadn’t yet been moved to the new house. I tear open one marked Bedroom and pull out clothes at random, dressing as quickly as I can.
At the bottom of the box, I find my purse and the travel bag folded beneath it.
I pull them out and start shoving clothes into the bag without bothering to sort them.
Then I tear open another box and dig until I find my jewellery box.
Inside are the account papers and the address book Grandda gave me years ago.
I tuck them into my purse and snap it shut.
When I straighten, my eyes move around the room.
Eileen’s veil lies on the bed where I dropped it. My wedding dress is crumpled on the floor where it slid from my body, my shoes kicked off nearby. Everything I put on in this room this morning—carefully, lovingly—is scattered around me now, and something in me breaks all over again.
My hands twist together before I realize what I’m doing, and my thumb brushes over the smooth band on my left hand. Ronin slid it there only hours ago. I cross to the vanity, slip it off, and leave it on the tabletop.
I grab my bags and hurry from the room, taking the stairs two at a time and going straight out the front door. I pull it shut behind me and hurry to the cab, climbing into the back seat before I’ve caught my breath. “Can you take me to the National Shawmut Bank?” I ask. “Please.”
As the cab pulls away, I close my eyes and press my forehead against the window. I don’t open them until the house is gone from view.
The bank comes into view sooner than I expect. When the cab stops, I glance at the meter and count out the fare, adding another bill for making him wait. “Thank you,” I say, handing him the money. “Keep the change.”
I step onto the pavement as the cab pulls away and walk straight into the bank. The lobby is nearly empty, with only a few teller windows still open. I notice the pay phone near the doors and keep going. I’ll need it when I’m finished.
It doesn’t take long to withdraw everything from the account Grandda opened for me.
I hand the teller my bank book and identification and sign a withdrawal slip.
A few minutes later, she counts the full balance into an envelope.
I’m shocked by how much Grandda put away for me—more cash than I’ve ever held at once.
I tuck the envelope into my purse, thank her, and take out the address book as I leave the counter.
At the pay phone near the doors, I open it to the first page, lift the receiver, and drop a coin into the slot. I dial the number beside the first name in the book.
Aidan O’Shea.
A woman answers on the second ring, her voice carrying a thick Irish accent. “O’Shea residence.”
My throat tightens, but I manage to keep my voice steady. “May I speak with Aidan O’Shea, please?”
The woman doesn’t answer right away.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” I add quickly. “My name is Alannah O’Connell. I’m Malachy O’Connell’s granddaughter. He gave me this number and told me to call if I ever needed help.”
“Oh,” the woman says. “Just a moment.”
There’s a rustle on the line, then muffled voices. A man comes on a moment later. “Aidan O’Shea speaking.” His accent is as thick as hers.
“My name is Alannah O’Connell,” I say, the words coming faster than I mean them to. I don’t pause long enough for him to answer. “My grandda—Malachy O’Connell—gave me a book with your name and number in it when I came to Boston. He said I was to call you if I ever needed help.”
My eyes begin to burn. I blink hard and tighten my grip on the receiver. I can’t cry yet. I need to finish.
“And I need help. I was married today. It was a match between our families, but it went wrong, and I left. If my parents find me, they’ll make me go back to my husband.
” My voice wavers, but I keep going. “I can’t go back.
I can’t. I don’t know where else to go. I need to get home to my grandda—to the rest of my family.
Can you help me?” By the time I get it all out, I’m breathing hard into the receiver, struggling to keep the panic from taking over.
“All right,” he says, his voice calm. “Take a breath for me, Alannah.”
I close my eyes and draw one in, then let it out slowly.
“Are you somewhere safe right now?” he asks.
“Yes. I’m at the National Shawmut Bank,” I say. “But they’re about to close.”
“I know the area,” he says. “There’s a café just down the block, on the corner. Go there and wait for me inside. I’ll be there shortly.”
I hesitate. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. You’ll be safe there until I get to you.”
My knees go weak with relief. He believes me. He’s coming. I brace my free hand against the wall beside the phone and swallow hard before I answer. “Thank you.”
The line goes dead.
The café is only a short walk from the bank.
The light is fading now, the streetlamps beginning to come on.
They must know I’m gone by now. Someone may already have gone back to the house and seen the boxes torn open and enough of my clothes missing to know I packed a bag.
They’ll know I didn’t just leave the reception.
They’ll know I ran. I start looking over my shoulder whenever I hear footsteps behind me.
When a car slows near the curb, I’m sure it’s them, and I hurry the rest of the way.
A soft chime sounds as I push open the café door.
Inside, it’s warm and bright, the air smelling of coffee and baked goods.
I take a booth in the back corner, where I can sit with my back to the wall and still see the door, and order tea.
When it comes, I wrap both hands around the cup but make no move to drink.
I keep my eyes on the door. Each time it opens, I expect to see Da, Cormac, or one of their men.
If any of them find me, they’ll force me back to Ronin.
The thought of him teaching me another lesson makes me feel sick.
What will he do to me this time? I didn’t get this far just to be handed back to him.
Every part of me wants to get up and run again, but if I leave, Aidan won’t know where to find me. He said he wouldn’t be long, and Grandda wouldn’t have given me his name and told me to call if I ever needed help unless he knew I could trust him. I make myself stay.
The bell over the door chimes again, and I look up.
A large man steps inside—older, broad-shouldered, his hair threaded with grey and his beard neatly trimmed.
A pretty woman in a pale peach dress walks beside him, her hand tucked into the crook of his arm.
He looks around the café, then spots me in the back corner.
“Alannah?”
I recognize Aidan’s voice, and by the time he finishes saying my name, I’m already on my feet. I pull some money from my purse and leave it beside my untouched tea, then gather my bags as they come toward me.
“It has to be you,” he says. “I’d know that face anywhere.” He stops beside the booth. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
“I recognized your voice.” I give a nervous laugh. “I’m sorry. I’m a bit jumpy.”
“That’s all right, Alannah. It’s been years. You were only a child the last time I saw you.” He gestures to the woman beside him. “This is my wife, Eilís.”
“How do you do,” I say automatically.
Aidan looks at the bags in my hands. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.” I follow them outside to a car parked in front of the café and climb into the back seat while Aidan and Eilís get in up front.
“We’ll get you back to the house,” Aidan says as he starts the engine, glancing back at me. “You can call Malachy from there. Then we’ll work out what comes next.”
I nod. “Thank you,” I whisper, and let my head fall back against the seat.
For the first time since Ronin turned on me, I don’t feel so alone.
I barely know Aidan and Eilís, but they came when I called and are taking me somewhere safe.
My own parents watched Ronin break my heart and did nothing.
Worse, they tried to force me to stay anyway because what everyone else thought mattered more to them than I did.
I turn my face toward the window as the car pulls away, not wanting them to see the tears in my eyes.