Chapter 18 – Six Weeks Later
AISLYNN
SIX WEEKS LATER
Igroaned as I lugged my case off the baggage carousel before going back in for my smaller one. Then I hooked my cases together and headed through arrivals.
I checked my watch and smiled because I knew Mam and Callum would already be waiting for me.
After a hellish overnight flight and hanging around in LAX for two hours for my connection to Rock Springs, I was nearly home.
Honestly, if I could have stayed in Ireland, I would have, but my brother and Maeve were getting married (again) the following weekend, so I didn’t have a choice but to come back, and I couldn’t hide forever.
I drove home after catching Pagan with Saskia, in pieces. As I stumbled back to my car, I was stopped my Bootneck, who had somehow managed to find my phone. He took one look at my face and took a step back, like I’d punched him, before he watched me speed away from the compound.
God knows how I made it home without totaling my car, but I did; though by the time I got back to Mam’s house, I couldn’t breathe through crying so hard.
I managed to tell Mam what had happened through my stuttered sobs, and she lay in bed with me all night, stroking my hair and whispering that everything would be alright while wiping away my tears. But there was nothing she could say that would fix me or make me feel less broken.
The fact was, I’d met the only man I’d ever wanted, but he didn’t feel the same way. I just wish I’d ended it that night like I always intended instead of accepting scraps of him yet again. If I had, my heart wouldn’t be breaking from finally seeing the proof of what my gut had always told me.
I was way out of my depth.
The next morning, I dragged my ass out of bed, splashed cold water on my face, and walked into the kitchen, where Mam waited at the kitchen table for me in her dressing gown with a pot of tea. I sat down, and she announced she’d booked me a flight to Ireland that evening.
At first, I protested. Maybe a tiny part of me wanted to be here in case Pagan called and wanted to talk. I knew it was weak and pathetic of me to hang onto him by the fingertips, even though we were crumbling, but I just couldn’t seem to let him go.
Still, Mam insisted, and I didn’t have it in me to argue with her, so I agreed. I packed and went into town so I could buy a new phone and toiletries. Maybe the phone thing was a bit over the top, but I wanted a clean break, and I wasn’t exactly happy that Pagan could track and spy on me.
As much as I didn’t want to leave, it was the best thing I could’ve done because being so far away from him gave me the clarity I could never get when he was close. Distance gave me objectivity and, suddenly, from the outside looking in, I realized how one-sided our entire relationship had been.
A part of me felt sick that I’d fallen for it, but he was older, more astute, and way more calculating than I was. He played his games like a master, and I’d lapped it up because I thought I could handle him.
I spent the weeks visiting Mam’s side of the family and traveling around Ireland. I drank Guinness and did the whole tourist thing, and even flew to Paris for a weekend.
Then five days ago, while sitting on a wall at Doonagore Castle on the West Coast of Ireland, I looked out at sea in the direction of home, and for the first time since I flew out of LAX, I allowed myself to think about him.
I remembered the night we met, and how my stomach tugged when he looked at me. I recalled when he appeared out of nowhere in Denver, put me on the back of his bike, and then proceeded to tell me all about his life and how he wanted to protect me.
I wished more than anything somebody had protected me from him.
I wished my da was here.
And more than anything, I wished I’d been wiser.
Loving him had changed me, and losing him had too. I’d never be the same girl now that the inevitable had happened, and he’d destroyed me, but maybe that was the point. Maybe I needed this lesson to finally accept that the love I craved wasn’t necessarily good for me.
As I’d sat on a cold stone wall, looking out to sea, and thinking about my life and everything I wanted from it, I finally let him go.
“Aislynn,” Mam’s voice called. I looked up to see her standing a few feet away, her concerned gaze sweeping over my face.
I jerked out of my daydream and smiled. “Mam.”
She walked toward me. “Callum’s waiting in the drop off and pick-up area.”
I nodded, my eyes sweeping over her beautiful face. Then I dropped my luggage, hastened toward her, and threw my arms around her neck. “Love you, Mammy,” I whispered. “Thank you for making me go to Ireland.”
Tears sprang into the same dark blue eyes she’d given me and Callum, but she blinked them away, stood straight, and said brusquely, “Well, this won’t get the baby bathed. Come on with you now. Your brother’s waiting.”
She turned and bustled her way toward the exit, dragging my luggage after her. “Come on, Aislynn. I’m dying for a cuppa.”
Smiling, I shook my head and followed her outside and over to the pick-up point, where Callum was leaning against his truck, waiting for us.
“Son!” Ma called.
Callum spotted us and sauntered over, planting a kiss on my forehead. “Welcome home.”
“Thank you,” I said breezily. “I missed you.”
His gaze rested on me. “You okay?”
I winced because word must’ve gotten around.
I’d FaceTimed Tristan and Maeve while I was away to discuss colors, styles, and measurements for our bridesmaid outfits, and told them that I’d broken up with Pagan.
I didn’t give them the details of what or why it happened, but I was sure they could read between the lines.
“I’m good, thanks.” I smiled. “You looking forward to next weekend?”
“Yeah,” he replied. “The sooner I get my wife down the aisle for real, the better.” He hauled the cases into the back of his truck, and we all piled in.
“Is everything ready for next week?” Mam asked as she clipped her safety belt.
I fastened mine and leaned forward from the back seat, watching as Callum pulled out of our parking spot and joined the traffic leaving the airport. “Maeve told me Lexi Meadows has done most of the work.”
“When’s your last dress fitting?” Mam asked, glancing over her shoulder at me.
“Tuesday,” I told her. “You’re coming too, right?”
“Try to fecking stop me,” she clipped. “I need a new mother of the groom outfit.”
“Tristan’s got you booked in before the wedding. He’s hired another stylist and a makeup artist to help him get you all ready,” Callum informed us.
“Will he have time?” Mam asked. “He is the man of honor.”
“He’s only gotta put a suit on, Ma, and whatever ridiculous pair of high heels he wears that day,” Callum reminded her.
Mam sniffed. “I happen to like Tristan’s shoes.
I think he looks very stylish. All the ladies at Church are jealous because he gives me style advice.
Well, except for Susan Matlock, but that auld hag wouldn’t know style if it smacked her in one of her chins.
Jesus, forgive me, but that woman would make the Archangel Michael himself blaspheme to the heavens.
She’s got a face only her mother could love.
” She did the sign of the cross over her chest. “Lord, deliver me.”
I laughed softly.
Callum glanced back at me, and his lips twitched. “You ready for Maeve’s bachelorette party?”
My heart swooped because no, I damned well wasn’t.
We were all going to the King’s of Anarchy strip club this weekend.
The boys would be at a table on one side of the club, and the girls would have a table on the other, with a view to coming together by the end of the night.
It had been arranged before Pagan and I ended things.
I knew they’d change the venue if I asked.
Still, the only other place we could go was the Lucky Shamrock, which would have been fine.
The thing was, I knew Callum, Maeve, or Donovan would probably end up working if the place got busy—which it always did on a Saturday—and I didn’t want that for them.
I’d go to Vortex, but I didn’t know how this was going to work out.
Callum’s friends mostly comprised of the Speed Demons, Mac Meadows, and our two brothers.
Maeve’s friends were the Speed Demons’ ol’ ladies, her BFF from New York, Tristan, and me.
Maeve also loved Atlas, who was the Speed Demons’ SAA and one of Callum’s crew; however, it was clear he liked Maeve more than he liked Cal.
Atlas also had no fucks to give, and if he wanted to sit at the girls’ table with Maeve and his wife Sophie, nobody would stop him.
Normally, that would be fine, but when you threw in strippers and horny men who were out watching strippers, things could turn weird pretty quickly.
Plus, my ex non-boyfriend, who I’d been head over heels in love with, but unfortunately, hadn’t felt the same way, may or may not be there, and although Pagan didn’t go to the strip club every night—and would no doubt make a point of avoiding me—one of his close brothers would no doubt be there.
The mere thought of what lay ahead filled me with a feeling of dread, but my big brother only got married once (or twice in this case, though it was to the same woman), so I’d just have to suck it up.
I could get through one night, and I’d have all my girls and Tristan with me, as well as my brothers.
I just needed to look my best, feel my best, and forget Pagan Sinclair ever existed.
I wondered if I’d have time to order a new outfit before the weekend. Just as I grabbed my phone to look online, I got a message. I opened the app and clicked to read.
Tristan: Don’t make any plans for tomorrow. You’re spending the day in my chair. Be at the salon at 11. Oh, and I got you a new outfit.
My phone buzzed again, but this time with an image of a burgundy bandeau top and a matching, fitted, calf-length skirt. It was classy, sexy, and would show off my boobs and my midriff without being too slutty.