CHAPTER 7 #3
Tell me why I suddenly just want to disappear.
To go hide in shame. To remind myself how heavy this crown is that I pretend to fucking wear and how the adults around me, have real adult problems and I’m sitting here whining about a man that undoubtedly loves me more than his expensive, custom-made nerd box controller?
My phone started ringing, breaking me out of my spiraling thoughts, and before I looked down at it, I had a flash of that idiot in the woods, dancing to my ringtone.
I didn’t mean to smirk, but…I couldn’t stop it either.
“Uhhh…why is Simon calling you?”
Shit…shit…
I slid the ignore button and schooled my face before vomiting up another lie that she doesn’t deserve. “He’s helping me with some legal shit I don’t understand. Don’t worry, I’m paying him good. I don’t think he’ll eat my liver with fava beans.”
“Bridget…you know how grateful I am to him and everybody else for everything they did last year, but that doesn’t change who and what they are. Everything they do is just as shady and dangerous as the shit we used to do…did Malek tell you to—”
“No, and please don’t say anything to him about it, Sev. I trust Simon because he does. I’m being careful, okay?”
She looked almost offended. There’s the bitch I know and love. “I wouldn’t do that to you, cunt. You know better. I was just trying to figure out if I needed to shove something uncomfortable up his ass for telling you to go hang out with Hannibal Lecter.”
The fact that I’m either playing this off well enough that she has no idea I might be just as bad, is almost as scary as the notion that she does see right through me…and her poker face is better than Simon’s. I laughed it off and switched feet when my nail tech prompted me to.
“I just don’t want Malek to feel like I have to come running to him for anything anymore. Especially since Daddy isn’t here to force him to do it. Speaking of which, though…I wanted to ask you something.”
It’s more of a need, now that I know I could possibly have a niece or nephew of my own to lay down my life for.
Suddenly, everything I never understood about Seven and those kids slammed into me like a second nature.
The idea of it, is the only thing that exists right now and I’m already prepared to burn the fucking world down for it.
“I’m married, but go ahead,” she smirked, grabbing her crotch. This bitch.
“Mal hasn’t said anything about anybody in the family business trying to reach out or anything, has he?”
“You mean…you mean Irish?”
“Yeah, Irish or otherwise.”
She shrugged and popped a couple of chocolate almonds into her mouth. Her nonchalance at least is making me feel a little better. “Not that I’m aware. Should I ask?”
“Nah. I’m just being paranoid. Wanna go to that cupcake joint after this?”
“You’re tryin’ awful hard to get into my pants today, Bridget Byrne.
Dec must’ve really done a number on your thirsty ass last night—ahh!
” Her arms immediately went up in defense when I started chucking nail polish bottles at her.
She cackled through insults, peeking from behind arms and ink and a flurry of whatever I could get my hands on while our nail techs prayed in another language for us to fucking leave.
“The iron door is shut! No dick shall pass! Curse of the Girth!”
“I hate you. Twat.”
It should be a sin for a cupcake to be that good. Seven’s had sprinkles falling out of the middle. Mine had caramel apple filling. I got a half-dozen to bring home to Declan, thinking that if his cock in my mouth wouldn’t smooth things over, maybe he’ll crack with sweets on a tray…
I’m the tray. Wink.
We went our separate ways, and I trudged back to where I’d left my car.
I fumbled around for my keys with one hand, the other holding the box, and rounded the corner of the building to see some guy in a ski mask—in broad fucking daylight—trying to break into my back passenger side door.
I can’t help where my mind immediately went.
“Hey!”
He startled and looked up at me, and the eyes were all kinds of wrong.
Granted, I’ve only seen them with contacts…
there’s nothing but pure, undiluted malice in these.
It’s not the same dude. I had about a split second to register that before he squared up, a single car between us, and pointed a gun right at my face.
I don’t know if it was a reflex, exquisite timing, or sheer Irish luck that when it immediately went off…
I was already ducked beside somebody’s car, looking down at my splattered cupcakes and getting sprayed with glass from the window.
The shot rang in my ears, but I heard heavy footsteps running the opposite direction as I crouched there like a terrified bitch, trying to get my bearings.
Holy fuck…holy fuck, he just tried to kill me.
And would have. The sickening realization that I wasn’t prepared at all for something like this, but also had the audacity to think about that asshole from the woods…
makes me want to barf. I’m in over my head and it shows.
What was he even after? Random do-gooders started panicking, checking on me and ringing the police while I raised on wobbling knees and stumbled to my car.
I felt my stomach churn with everything I just ate.
Those tacos are about to burn all the way back up.
The safety deposit baggie is in the floorboard of the back seat…and it wasn’t there yesterday. So now, I know two very unsettling things:
One, masked Witherle guy is still stalking me and put this shit back in here. And two…he’s not the only one watching me and having some kind of idea what I’m up to. My heart pounded and my hand shook while I unlocked my car and opened the door to slide in.
“Ma’am, are you okay? Where are you going, the police are on their way!
” I cranked the car, saying absolutely nothing as the poor bystander stood dumbfounded and looking at me like I was nuts.
If he only knew how absolutely accurate he is.
I slammed the door and stomped on the gas while several people jumped out of the way, and then peeled out of the parking lot, immediately dialing Simon.
“You mad. I know.”
“I’m not mad, I was busy…and somebody just tried to blow my head off for this safety deposit bag. Tell me you’re home.”
“What?”
“You heard me, Simon. You’ve gotta take this, or help me find a place to hide it. It just cost me my sense of security and six really good fucking cupcakes!”
He sighed and took a minute too long to answer me.
“Meet at office. Not house.”
“I’m on my way.”
Adrenaline had every inch of my limbs shaking and my gas pedal catching all the intensity while I set Simon’s accounting office up on my GPS.
I checked my rear-view every two seconds.
If this makes the news, or if there’s security footage…
there’s no fucking way I’ll be able to explain any of this away.
Declan will have it all figured out by dinner, Malek will lose his unholy shit and Seven—oh, God—what if he tried to go after her too?
I felt it coming before I had a clear shot to get over, and barely made it to the shoulder of the highway without hitting five cars before I threw my door open and puked.