Chapter 5 Verity
Verity
This was the first time I'd seen Ronan since the post-drowning beach puking incident. I'd packed my bags and left for school the next day, unable to face anyone. In the three years since, despite many invitations, I hadn't been back.
It would have helped end my crush once and for all if the Kelly twins had packed on belly fat and lost half their hair in the interim, but sadly, that hadn’t happened.
The pair of them were still way too handsome for their own good, only with more muscle.
Now that the shock of Anton's attack had worn off, my brain had come back online. Anton could cause us all a fuck-ton of trouble. My legs trembled at what he'd do to me once he recovered.
He didn't want me, but he'd never been taught the word "no".
I had hoped my leaving soon would trigger a natural end to our relationship. He wasn't the sort to pine over a girl once she left the country. No doubt he already had my replacement lined up. Had already fucked her, knowing him.
However, tonight's reaction to my trying to end things had shaken me. My cheek throbbed, sending waves of pain through my skull. All I wanted to do was go home, pop some painkillers, and sleep.
But first, I needed to work out why the twins were here. Saoirse had said nothing about them coming to Italy. Not that we'd spoken for a week. Since I'd started seeing Anton, we'd talked less.
Saoirse had made it abundantly clear Anton was a dickhead and I could do so much better. So rather than lie about how shit things had become, I'd stepped back and pretended to be busy with work.
Not a lie, exactly.
My brain only tuned back into the guys' conversation when Conal mentioned a pilot.
"I don't want to leave!" I jumped back as he reached for me. He seemed to have forgotten I wasn't a kid anymore. "I need to hand in my notice and say goodbye before disappearing." Honestly, I didn't, as nobody would care, but I'd spent too much of my life having no autonomy.
Conal looked at his phone and frowned.
"Bro, we need to get the fuck out of here. Someone will discover that asshole you dumped in the alley soon."
"That asshole is the mayor's son," I ground out. "His father is a big cheese around here."
Ronan grinned like a psycho. "Good job he has a rich family. He'll need extensive plastic surgery to repair the damage to his face. Probably new teeth, too." He turned to me. "Ready, Pixie?"
He'd christened me 'pixie' when 13-year-old me had stupidly told Saoirse I wanted to marry a fae prince. We'd spent an afternoon transforming ourselves into fae princesses with pointy ears and glittery makeup. Ronan had teased us mercilessly when he caught us making a TikTok about it.
"Look, I appreciate you helping me, even if I have no clue why you showed up in a random bar in Italy, but I can take care of myself.
" I reached under the table to pick up my phone and moved to switch the remaining lights off.
The wall clock told me it was almost 2 AM.
Now that the adrenaline of the fight with Anton had faded, I could barely keep my eyes open.
As well as sleep, I needed to escape the magnetic force field that was Ronan and Conal. Being in their presence scrambled my brain to the point I could barely string a coherent thought together.
They might have forgotten the embarrassing moment I puked over Ronan, but I hadn't.
The two of them exchanged glances before Conal's arm swung out and caught my wrist. I yelped in pain; it still hurt from when Anton threw me to the floor.
"Fuck, sorry, sweetheart!" Conal let me go immediately, an opportunity I couldn't ignore. Since they were too bullheaded to say why they'd come or why I needed to leave the country, they could do one.
I stormed outside, key in hand. Either they left now or I'd lock them in. If the police arrived, they could deal. No doubt Declan had some fancy lawyer on retainer, ready and willing to handle irritating problems like international arrest warrants for assault and battery.
But before I could push the key into the lock, Ronan's arm snaked around my waist. I felt a sharp sting in my neck and then the world faded away.
The loud roar of a jet engine woke me. I shifted to find someone had strapped me into a plush leather reclining chair and draped a thick blanket over my legs. Even if those assholes had kidnapped me, at least they'd make sure I was comfortable.
I recognized the plush interior of the Kelly private jet, which meant we were most likely on our way back to Ireland for reasons I had yet to fathom.
I swallowed, grimacing at the sour taste in my mouth. When was the last time I ate something? Oh yes. Lunchtime. I'd planned to pick up a pizza on my way home, only…
Fuck. A rogue memory of Anton's fist connecting with my face had me reaching up to touch my swollen cheek. My wrist ached, too. No doubt there were bruises elsewhere.
I cursed my stupidity for letting Anton into my life. My sister would be furious when she heard what I'd put up with. How Anton had treated me. She'd want to know why I hadn't reached out and asked for her help.
Which begged the question, why hadn't I?
Because I was ashamed.
Ashamed of allowing myself to fall for yet another abusive man.
Sadly, Anton wasn't the first asshole to take advantage of me, but he was the first to hit me.
A small whimper escaped when I moved, triggering a wave of agony across my face.
"Pixie girl, do you need a drink?"
Ronan's voice brushed over me like a gentle breeze. If it wasn't for the fact he and his asshole twin had clearly kidnapped me against my express wishes, I'd have swooned a little.
Having them drag me back to the place where I'd come close to having a fucking breakdown was not good for my mental health.
Except nobody knew how close to giving up I'd come that night. I had barely admitted it to myself. Instead, I'd blamed my stupid actions on alcohol.
Everyone had believed my half-assed, incoherent explanation of drunken confusion for why I'd walked into the sea that night. Even Thea.
A gentle hand on my arm brought me back to the present, reminding me I was on a plane rather than asleep in my lumpy bed.
"You drugged me."
Ronan had the grace to look slightly ashamed. For all of 0.001 seconds.
"I need to go back to Italy." If only to collect my stuff. Like my fucking passport.
"Sorry, Pixie. No can do." He perched on the chair opposite, grinning at me. "Declan's orders."
Declan? What did he have to do with this?
"Why were you even in Italy, anyway?" I sat up, doing my best to ignore the pain in my head. Ronan grabbed a bottle of water and cracked it open. When he handed it to me, I gratefully accepted.
"To bring you home."
"I don't have a home," I pointed out, choosing to stare at my lap rather than his face. It was less embarrassing that way. He may have forgotten pukegate, but I hadn't. "Apart from a cute studio apartment, the one you forced me to abandon."
My father's estate lay empty, but it had never been my home. And Thea's place in the States was lovely, but it also wasn't my home.
"Yeah, you do. Our home is your home, Pixie. Mi casa, su casa."
"And what am I supposed to do once I get there? I've taken a gap year, remember? That typically means living in new countries, getting drunk, and fucking as many people as possible."
"There will be no fucking or drinking, Pixie," Ronan’s cheerful demeanor slipped to reveal the psycho beneath.
"That sounds shit for you," I mumbled under my breath. From memory, that was pretty much all Ronan did in his spare time.
The fact it just made him even more attractive annoyed the crap out of me. Was I so broken that toxic men waving red flags were the only type for me? It sure seemed that way.
Conal had fewer psychotic tendencies, but nobody would ever make the mistake of calling him a nice guy. And let's be real here - my hormones liked him just as much.
Fucking hormones.
"Have you told her?" Conal appeared behind his scowling brother.
"Yes, please explain why you fuckheads drugged and kidnapped me!"
"Language, young lady!"
I huffed in annoyance at Ronan's outraged tone. Like he didn't swear. Fucking asshole. I'd learned more bad words from him than Aoife, his sister, and that was saying something considering she had a mouth on her like a blocked sewer.
Conal shoved Ronan aside and sat down opposite me with a serious expression on his ridiculously handsome face. Fuck my life. Why couldn't my best friend's brothers be ugly? It would have saved me a lot of teenage angst.
"We came to bring you home because your father's no longer in prison."
Conal's words sank in and hit me harder than Anton's fist ever had. The bottle of water slipped from my hand and fell to the floor. Water spilled, soaking into the beige carpet. Nobody bothered to pick it up.
"Why…how?" As far as I knew, the authorities had locked him up for life. So why was he out?
My body switched into fight-or-flight mode. Adrenaline flooded my system in waves. I tried to suck in oxygen, but my lungs refused to work. Conal's next words barely registered above the pounding of my heart. My throat closed as I froze, gripped with panic at the idea of my father coming after me.
Memories of the attic where I'd spent my formative years blasted through my head, the endless days of nothingness until my sister's men rescued us.
A long period of bright sunshine and happiness with my new family followed until the realization that something had broken in my head pulled me back into the abyss.
Tears trickled down my cheeks. I tasted salt. Then a large hand found mine, grounding me, calming the chaos swirling around me like a mini tornado.
"It's OK, mo mhuirnin," Ronan murmured in a soothing voice. "I got you."
"We will always keep you safe," Conal added.
The Kelly estate seemed larger than ever. The Kelly family patriarch, Seamus Kelly, spent most of his time in Dubai these days, soaking up the sun and hitting on the social media influencers who swarmed out there, eager to tap the wallets of rich men.
Only yesterday, Saoirse had sent me a screenshot of some blonde in a bikini draped over her father, Seamus, on a yacht. She'd ranted, and I'd nearly lost my breakfast. The man still had his looks, but seriously? He was way too old to be leering at a 20-something. Gross.
Thank God Declan wasn't like his father. At least he dated age-appropriate females. The few women I'd seen him with over the years were always gorgeous, long-legged goddesses with pert asses and dainty breasts.
Yeah…he definitely had a type. The exact opposite of me, which rankled, although I didn't care to examine why it bothered me.
Like my crush on the twins, my attraction to Declan had crept up on me in my late teens. Wildly inappropriate and something I preferred to shove into a locked box in my head.
Declan behaved like a big brother. A calm presence in my life. Someone to go to for advice.
He was not a man who would ever look at me with desire in his amber eyes.
Our SUV pulled through the gates, past two armed guards. Saoirse came running out the minute our car halted outside the main door.
"Ver! I couldn't believe it when I came home and Dec said the twins had gone to collect you!" She sucked in a sharp breath when she saw my bruised cheek. "Oh, hun, who did that to you? Was it that fucker you've been dating? Please tell me my brothers beat the shit out of him."
I nodded, letting her pull me in for a hug.
We clung to each other, neither of us willing to discuss the elephant squatting in the room.
Namely, that I'd willfully hidden the extent of Anton's fuckery for weeks.
I knew at some point she'd want to know why I didn't confide in her about how bad things had got, but I wasn't strong enough to deal with her outrage right now.
My head still hurt, and I needed some space.
Space to get my head around the news that someone had let my father back out into the world.
"Let's get you inside." Saoirse curled her hand in mine and tugged me indoors. This place had been my safe space as a teenager, and even though I now had many reasons to avoid it, part of me still thought of it as a home.
We passed the family room. I caught a glimpse of the sea in the distance, glittering in the early morning sun. It reminded me of why I'd not been back here in three years.
Even if I was safer here than in Italy, I knew I couldn't stay.
It held too many memories.
Not all of them happy.