Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
H e was here. I woke up at around three in the morning, a blanket over me and a bottle of whiskey on the coffee table. The same brand that Connor likes to drink. I searched the entire cabin, hoping to find him, but the place was empty. It is empty.
I pull out my phone and send him a message.
Me:
Why didn’t you wake me?
Charming:
Alternate ending, Sleeping Beauty should have stayed asleep. The prince should never have kissed her.
Well, if that isn’t a blow to my already-shattered heart…
I don’t care, though. I’m not going to let his words deter me. He loves me. The fact he came, the fact he wanted to meet up with me means he loves me. I just need to get the love to outshine the hate. I can do it. He’ll come around.
Me:
Fairy tales aren’t real. You and me, that’s real.
He reads my message but doesn’t respond. I don’t bother to send any more either. I’ll wait. Until I’m at school, and that’s when I’ll message him again. First I need to shower, change, and eat.
I’m about to leave the house, eager to get to school, when the voices coming from my dad’s office stop me. They’re yelling. My dad and uncles. Something’s wrong. They’re usually so calm.
I tiptoe towards the door—frankly, I’m surprised there are no soldiers standing in the hall to stop me. I don’t even need to press my ear against the wall. I can hear them clear as day.
“What do you mean the whole container is gone?” my dad asks.
“Exactly that. They took the whole fucking thing. We lost four men. Six wounded,” Zio Theo says.
“Got it.” Zio Romeo’s voice booms out, almost like he’s excited.
“Who?” That growl comes from Zio Theo again. He’s mad. I could almost imagine the little vein in his forehead popping.
“Fucking O’Malley,” Zio Romeo says, and my stomach drops. No…
“The Irish?” my dad questions.
“You know any other O’Malleys?” Zio Romeo replies.
“They’re dead. I want my fucking container back and I want their heads rolling down the fucking streets!” Zio Theo yells.
Shit. No. My hands shake as I run out of the house. Think! I need to think. This isn’t happening. This can’t be real. My family is going to go after Connor’s. They’re going after Connor .
“Fuck!” The scream comes out as soon as I shut myself inside my car. Okay, I just need a plan. I don’t give two shits if they go after the O’Malleys. From what Connor told me, they’re not good people. I do, however, give a lot of shits if they touch him. I won’t let that happen.
I know what I have to do. But I’m going to need supplies.
I start up my car and drive to the storage shed I’ve had for the last few months.
Once I’m there, I unlock the door and open the safe.
It’s where I keep spare documents. My grandfather taught me to be prepared for anything.
Which is why I have three passports in different names, matching credit cards and driver’s licenses.
I also have one for Connor, because, well, when I knew I loved him, I knew I’d do anything to protect him.
Including hiding him. I just didn’t think I’d be having to hide him from my family.
Once I have all the documents and a stash of cash, I pick up the bag of clothes I left here. I also have wigs, hair dye, glasses, pretty much everything I need to become someone else.
It takes me an hour to drive around the city and collect the rest of the cash and weapons I’ve stashed in random places people don’t look.
First stop was the church confessional. Under the seat, where I’d taped a handgun and a plastic bag of ten-dollar bills.
Smaller bills mean less scrutiny when you’re paying for things.
Next stop was the library, one of my newer hiding spots. Another bag of money tucked beneath the shelf that houses Sleeping Beauty . I didn’t leave weapons here on the off chance some kid would find it.
The last stop is the penthouse my family owns in the city and the safe I left in one of the guest bedrooms. I grab a vial of midazolam and a syringe from inside, lock it up again, and rush back to my car. Then I pick up my burner and message Connor.
Me:
I need air.
He once told me he’d always be the air I needed if I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Let’s hope he meant it. Five minutes later, he messages back.
Charming:
Aurora? Where are you?
One thing I didn’t think of was a meetup location.
I need to get him onboard with the idea of letting me help him.
Or at least keep him away from his family long enough for him to miss the ambush I know my father and uncles are planning.
We own a little hunting cottage about three hours upstate.
It’ll have to do. Now, how the hell do I get Connor there?
Me:
School parking lot.
If I can get him in my car, I can knock him out long enough to get us to the cottage. Once we’re there, he’s not going to have any way to leave.
Charming:
Be there in ten.
Thank god.
I get the syringe ready and slip it into the door beside me. He can’t hate me any more than he already does, right? I know he’s going to be pissed that I’m doing this, but he’ll realize I’m doing it for him. I hope.
Nine minutes later, Connor pulls up next to me.
He gets out, looks around the otherwise-empty lot, and then climbs into my car.
My hands are still shaky, my breathing deep as I try to remain calm.
The thought of something happening to him is sending me over the edge.
I know that, and I can’t do a single thing to stop it.
“What’s wrong?” Connor’s eyes rake over my entire body. His hands reach over and take hold of mine. “You’re trembling. What the fuck happened?” he asks, his voice lethal. He’s ready to fight for me. I just hope he continues to feel that way when he wakes up.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. I let the tears fall down my cheeks.
Connor pulls me against him. His arms wrap around me. “Aurora, you need to tell me what happened. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”
I pull back. My hand reaches down and wraps around the syringe. “Everything is wrong. It’s all a mess.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I… I can fix this. Can you just hold me for a minute longer? I’ll fix it.”
“What are you fixing?” he asks even as he’s tugging me closer again.
I climb over the center console and straddle his lap. “Us. I’m going to fix us,” I say before stabbing the syringe into the side of his arm.
“Ow, what the fuck?” He pushes me backwards. “Did you just drug me?”
“I’m sorry. I had to.” I climb back over the center console and lock the doors. He’s not getting out.
“What are you doing?”
“Put on your seat belt,” I tell him before peeling out of the parking lot.
“Fucking hell, Aurora. Stop the car and let me out!” he yells.
“I can’t.”
When I screech around the corner, he finally does as he’s told and clips himself in. His words are slurring and then he’s asleep.
I know we can’t go far yet. My family will track me. When we reach the city limits, I stop at a used car dealership. Hand the guy a couple thousand for a beat-up piece of shit, and give him the keys to my Mercedes. I know my father will come looking for it. Looking for me.
After I move my bags from my car to the new one, I have to figure out how to do the same with Connor. It takes effort, but I manage to grab him under his arms and drag him out. I then shove him into the back seat and shut the door, while the salesman watches me.
“Thanks for your help.” I smile at him. Asshole could have given me a hand. But no, he’d rather watch me struggle.
I take my phone, pull Connor’s out of his pocket, and toss them both out the window. I have the burner just in case we need to reach out to someone.
Three hours later, I stop in front of the cottage. And a half an hour and a lot of effort after that, I finally have Connor inside and on the bed. He’s going to wake up with bruises from when I dropped him and dragged him up the stairs.
But you try lifting a six-foot something brick. It’s not easy.
Once he’s settled in, I handcuff his wrists to the headboard. I know he’s going to be really angry when he wakes up, and I don’t want him running out before I have a chance to explain. I need him to listen. I need him to see that I didn’t have a choice.
There’s no food in the fridge or cabinets, and the closest store is twenty minutes away. So, satisfied my little abductee can’t run off, I head into the small town and get supplies for a couple of days. We just need time to figure out a plan on where to go next.
When I get back, I put all the groceries away and text my brother. I can’t talk to my dad yet.
Me:
It’s Aurora. I’m okay. I’ll be in touch in a couple of days.
Enzo:
Where the fuck are you?
The message comes through and then the phone immediately starts ringing. I hit the answer button. “Enzo, I’m fine.”
“Where are you? Everyone is out looking for you, Aurora. Your car was found at some dodgy-ass dealership.”
“I know. I left it there. I had to.”
“Why? What are you up to?”
“They were going to go after him, Enzo. I couldn’t sit back and let him get killed,” I explain.
“You’re doing this for that fucking Irish fucker who broke your heart?” he shouts into the phone.
“No, I’m doing this for me . I love him,” I say.
“Tell me where you are. I’ll come get you.”
“I can’t. I love you, but I can’t. Tell everyone not to worry.” I cut the call and power down the phone.