26. Aiden
Chapter twenty-six
Aiden
I pull up to Behind the Lens, after giving Nicolo the slip from the hotel, and telling him I had a headache, and couldn’t listen to any more of his bullshit. The whiny ass came back to the hotel stinking of liquor, and demanding, in his aggressive, entitled way, to know why I kept looking at my phone yesterday. His suspicion both amuses and irritates me. A part of me wanted to rub it in his face that Phoebe chose me over him once again. That it’s me she was live chatting with the other night. Me , she’s been sexting with, and it’s Aiden ‘massacre’ Doyle, and not fucking Nicolo ‘pretty boy’ Amato who gets the girl this time, and I will get her. There is no possibility on this earth where I will allow Nico to drag her back to Chicago in shame, and force her into this farce of a marriage against her will. He had his chance and blew it, and now it’s mine . I’m prepared to take Phoebe, and leave the country with her, to keep her safe from both of the mafia families hunting her. I have already made all the provisions for it.
Tickets are wai ting for us at the airport counter, a bank account in Switzerland has enough money to keep our great-grandchildren comfortable, and I have a set of new fake identities hidden in the trunk of the rental car I’m driving. I’m leaving nothing to chance. I just have to convince Phoebe to leave with me. What about Nico? He won’t let her go, my mind questions, and it pulls a grim snarl to my lips, as I open the glove compartment, and check the gun that I have stowed there. He won’t have a choice. I don’t want to have to kill one of my best friends, but I will if he forces my hand. Phoebe has to be my priority.
Tadhg has been blowing up my phone since last night. He’s now realized that I’m not where I said I was. I’m thousands of miles away in California, not northern Illinois. There is no negotiation with the Triad happening, for weapons, and organized underground fights. I lied to him, to keep him distracted from seeing what was really happening around him, not that I needed to try very hard, between all the booze and drugs he’s consuming, and all the whores he’s too busy fucking. Does it hurt to know I have deceived one of my best friends? A man I have stood next to through everything, including both of our fathers being gunned down? Of course. Will that stop me from leaving him, and the Irish mafia, behind to protect his sister? Never. My mind’s made up, and nothing is going to change it.
After checking the gun to confirm it’s loaded, and ready if I need it, I slip it into the back of my pants, ensuring that my slim jacket hides its existence. Do I think I am going to need a weapon inside, where I plan to get naked with Phoebe? Probably not, but it’s better to be prepared at all times. I was ecstatic when I received Phoebe’s message with the time, date, and location of the shoot. I’m not going to lie; I was ready to go on a killing rampage, at the thought of her having sex with someone else on camera. I refuse to lie to myself. I know she’s probably been intimate with someone else in the two years that we have been apart. I won’t reprimand her for that, but the minute she gives me the name of who it was, I’ll make sure I snap their necks before we leave the country. The alpha monster, that is always just under the surface, demands that I end the life of anyone who’s been inside of my bean chéile . Phoebe might not have taken our handfasting ceremony, and my oath to her, seriously, but I did. It’s why I haven’t touched anyone in all the time we have been apart. I refuse to sully what we have, because my promise was for forever.
I get out of the vehicle and make my way to the front entrance of Behind the Lens , where I am greeted by a pretty brunette sitting behind the counter. I have the mask Phoebe told me to wear clutched in my hand, along with an envelope with the STD testing she asked for. Let me tell you how fucked up it was, asking my hacking associate to create this, on top of fake passports. He probably thinks I’ve lost my damn mind, and maybe I have. I should just walk in here, grab Phoebe, and force her to come with me, even if I have to do it at gunpoint, instead of playing this naughty game where I pretend to be Strokemyshillelagh, and get on camera with her. There is zero chance I will ever allow any of this to be seen. Strangers don’t get to look at what’s mine, ever .
“Hi, welcome to Behind the Lens . Can I help you?” Yeah, you can ask my wife to come down to the front counter, so I can get us both the fuck out of here, and on a plane. “Hey, I’m here to see...” Ah shit, I don’t remember if she actually told me her name in one of our chats. Better to play it safe, and not volunteer that I know that information. “Ladypoison?” I can feel a blazing heat sliding across my face as the receptionist eyes me curiously. “You must be Strokemyshillelagh, interesting name.” Her lips quirk as she passes me a clipboard. “I’m going to need you to fill out this NDA, and provide me with your STD screening. Ladypoison’s is attached for your review. Once that’s complete, I’ll take you where she is.”
I almost groan out loud. Seriously, paperwork? Jesus fuck. My heart feels like it’s going to punch its way out of my chest right now. My hands are all clammy, and I could totally use a drink, or maybe ten, to steady my nerves of seeing Phoebe in person, and how she’s going to react. “Great, thanks, here’s the medical stuff.” I hand her the crumpled envelope, and get to work reading the NDA. That’s some impressive shit right there. It looks like my girl has at least been working for a high-class organization that protects their workers. I sign my fake name to the bottom of the form, and hand it back to Nova, as her name tag indicates, with a polite smile. “Thanks, Mr. Atkinson. It looks like the only thing missing is the mask Ladypoison requested.” She raises a questioning brow in my direction, and I wave the black devil’s mask, so that she can see I came prepared. “Very good, if you would put that on now and follow me, please.”
I slip the mask on, and follow her through the clean corridors of Behind the Lens, and up a short stairway. She pauses before a door, nods, and whispers, “Good luck, and have fun.” Then she disappears, and I’m left standing at the door, my breathing heavy behind the mask. One piece of wood stands between me and my destiny. Please don’t run from me, Phoebe , I think the words as I raise my hand and knock on the door. Silence greets my knock, and it makes apprehension rise within me. Is it possible she changed her mind? Wouldn’t the receptionist have known that, though? “Ladypoison?” I call and knock again, and I’m almost positive I hear movement behind the door. Finally, it opens, and there stands the woman who haunts all of my dreams.
She looks stunning and otherworldly, standing there in a fluffy white robe, tied tightly around her waist, and a cute black top hat sits on top of her fake blonde hair. My pretty little leannán sídhe . My eyes trail over every inch of her, as I take in her appearance after all this time apart, without a screen between us. She’s wearing her blue contact lenses, an d the dim light makes her eyes sparkle like sapphires. A delicate green mask adorns the upper half of her face, leaving her cheekbones and jaw partially exposed. Her lips are painted a vibrant bright red, and I can see little hints of gold sparkles embellishing the little amount of visible exposed skin. The robe hides what I ache to see behind its thick fabric, but I can glimpse a green bow tie peeking out between its folds, and she’s definitely wearing silk stockings. Her toned legs part the robe, as she shifts uncomfortably, and reveal their lace tops, as she stands anxiously in a pair of shiny high heels.
Even though she’s trying to project calmness and confidence, I can see the strain and nervousness in every line of her petite frame, and the tightness around her red-painted lips. I know you, pretty girl. I know all your tells, and you can’t hide from me. It makes me ridiculously happy to see she’s not comfortable with this situation, which once again leads me to contemplate why she’s even going through with it. Is someone here forcing her to participate in this shoot and video? All of my research on Behind the Lens, and its ownership, would indicate that wouldn’t be the case. “Strokemyshillelagh?” Her voice squeaks as she utters my screen name, and a smile widens across my mouth behind the mask. She’s fucking adorable.
“Hey, álainn ,“ I force my voice to sound deeper and huskier, like on our calls, so she doesn’t immediately realize it’s me. She moves back to open the door wider with a quizzical expression, while licking those plump lips I want to suck and consume. I can feel my blood racing through my body, and my cock already perking up at the sight before us. Her scent filters through the mask, vanilla and roses, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from groaning. My hand rises to reach for her, and I force it back down. Patience . If I just grab her, she could freak out and scream. “Jesus, you’re... huge,” she gasps, as I move to pass her as I step into the room. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, that was so rude!” Her hands come up and cover her face in embarrassment, and it pulls a chuckle from my lips. “I hope that won’t be a problem?” I notice she doesn’t close the door, but instead leaves it wide open, now that I am alone in the room with her. Good girl. Pride fills me, knowing that, despite putting herself in a vulnerable situation, she hasn’t forgotten everything I taught her back in Chicago.
“Ah, no... it’s just unexpected, I guess.” Her hand goes to the belt of her robe, and she tightens it further. She’s definitely uneasy. I wonder, is it my towering six foot-three broad frame, the devil’s mask that I am wearing, or just the fact that I’m a male ready to fuck her brains out? Before I can ask her any questions, or try to put her at ease, she meets my eyes, her head tilting on her pretty neck that I long to wrap my fingers around. For a moment, I worry she’ll recognize me through them, since hazel eyes aren’t that common. “Look, I... I want to make sure you’re not feeling... pressured... into this.” She’s worried about me feeling taken advantage of? I almost bark out a laugh at the mere suggestion, but I steel myself. She’s serious, and it’s endearing that she cares. My poor little lamb, doesn’t she realize a wolf is here to ravish her? I take a step closer to her, and her body flinches, but she holds her ground. “ álainn , nothing would have kept me away. I told you, for you, there is nothing I wouldn’t do. I want to be here with you.”
“Mmm, I... okay. I... I just wanted to check,” she sighs, and a rose blush rises on her cheeks, as she visibly shudders, and bites down on her bottom lip. I’m just about to reach for her when a large male strolls into the room, and immediately gets my hackles up, and I feel my body readying for a fight. “Hey, Phoebe, are we ready?” I watch her flinch, as he addresses her with her name, and thank fuck for the mask hiding my face. My gaze narrows on the other man, who’s got a camera in his hands, and looks Phoebe in the eyes. If his glance wandered somewhere else first, I might have immediately put his head through a wall, but for now, he seems respectful and professional. Time will tell if he ends up eating that camera though. “As ready as I’m likely to be... God, I wish we had liquor in here, fuck my life right now,” Phoebe groans, and it makes the photographer laugh, as he shakes his head in commiseration at the lack of booze. If I’m being honest, I could use a shot of something strong myself.
“Hey, man, I’m Chad, and I’ll be photographing you today. If anything makes you uncomfortable, just say so, and we will move on to something else.” He thrusts his hand out to shake mine, and I begrudgingly shake his, tightening my grip like an asshole, until he flinches and his narrowed gaze meets mine. “Sinclair,” I give him my fake name. I release his hand, and he moves around and sets up his camera. I immediately notice that having him in the room hasn’t made Phoebe less anxious. Interesting.
“So we’ll be taking a few test shots to start, then a few in different poses with the props, and that’s it for my part. It shouldn’t be more than half an hour if the lighting cooperates. If you have any questions, please ask,” Chad declares, and it helps to stop some of the frenzy of emotions inside of me. Thirty minutes , I only have to put up with this guy near her, skimpily dressed, for that short amount of time. Maybe before I leave, I’ll be able to break his nose for looking at her at all, regardless of if he’s professional, at least he’ll still be breathing. Maybe.
“Sinclair... you can, ummm, change through there,” Phoebe gets my attention, as she nods toward a doorway on the other side of the large, darkened room. The sound of my fake name on her lips causes the hairs on my neck to rise, and a shiver to slide down my spine. “I... I left you something to wear for the shoot in there.” Her face goes flaming red, and that has me intrigued to see what she’s picked. I move toward the door, and take a look back over my shoulder to see her quietly conversing with Chad, and motioning to another section of the room that I no w realize is set up with a bed and props. Is that a rainbow and pot of gold? What the hell have I gotten myself into?
I step into the small ensuite bathroom equipped with a corner shower, and a small piece of green fabric catches my eye. I, for sure as fuck, don’t want to think too hard about why they need a shower in here. My control of my emotions is tenuous at best. I move across the small space and pick up the green fabric, only to realize they are tight fitting boxer short underwear, with a four-leaf clover pattern all over them. I hold them up between my two hands, and a laugh barrels out of me. Jesus fuck, there is no way I’m fitting into these things without strangling my cock. All amusement instantly leaves me, as I realize I have a huge fucking problem that I didn’t take into consideration before. How am I going to hide the Celtic knot tattoo all of us get when we pledge our oath to the Murphy clan? Mine’s right on my left pectoral. Ah, fuck, this will be over before it even starts. The minute she sees that, she’s going to dart for the door, and I’m probably going to have to kill that fucker, Chad, before chasing after her. Another thought hits me, where the fuck am I going to hide the gun?
I rip the mask off my face and stare into the mirror. I can’t lose her now. I’ve come too far, and I’m too close. I search around the small room in a panic, and notice there are a bunch of different packages and boxes on the shelves above the toilet. Bandages, makeup, hair products, and a shit ton of different colored glitter. What the hell is with all the glitter, don’t they know that shit is the devil’s toy? I spy some black makeup pencils, and green glitter gooey stuff, and it gives me an idea. I strip off my clothes, tucking the gun underneath the neatly folded pile, and groan as I force my legs and cock into the tight boxers. Fuck, my cock is going to lose circulation in these. The things I’m willing to do for this girl. I hope she appreciates that I’m probably sacrificing the ab ility to have kids, after forcing my testicles into this tight fabric.
I get to work, drawing amateur four-leaf clovers on my skin over the tattoo, and filling it in with the green glitter goo until it disguises it. I grimace as I draw a few more, in an attempt to hide the scars I have from healed bullet wounds on my arm, and lower back, and a stab wound on my left rib. When I’m done, I stare at myself in the mirror and roll my eyes. I look like some sort of fucked up stripper, who a kindergartner decided to draw on. If anyone back home saw me right now, I would instantly lose all my street cred. It doesn’t matter though. I’m never going back there once I leave here. They are going to call me a traitor anyway, for taking off with Phoebe, and abandoning them. Fuck them, they don’t matter. Nothing does except getting my a ghrá mo chroí back.
I quickly put everything I’ve used back neatly in its place, adjust my aching junk, and thank the fairies I’m not hard, because my cock would probably tear through this cloth if I were. With one last look at my reflection, I slip the mask back on over my face and open the door, prepared to do whatever I have to for Phoebe Murphy to be mine, once and for all.