15. Molly
Molly
B eing back here, in this home, was harder than I expected.
After my father had died, my mum had spiraled into a deep depression, often leaving me to fend for myself.
I didn’t blame her; she was simply one of those people who gave all of themselves to the person they loved.
She loved me in her own way, but nothing could compare to the all-consuming love she and my father had shared.
It was hard to compete with that sort of obsession.
As Keir rose from his seat, I blinked, and the room came back into focus. My fingers were still wrapped tightly around my mother’s, but I forced myself to release her. Her expression fell a little as she settled back into her seat and crossed her legs.
“I have to make a phone call, baby,” Keir told me, leaning down to kiss me.
Fuck, he was taking this fake engagement way too seriously.
I tilted my face up to his, expecting a peck on the lips, so I was caught off guard when Keir cupped my face and swept his tongue into my mouth.
His lips were soft against mine, but the way his tongue moved was sinful.
Thrown mentally off-balance, I dug my fingernails into his hand, where it held my jaw, drawing a soft grunt from his throat.
When he stepped back, he shot me a wink and left the room.
My pulse was still hammering against my ribs when I looked back at my mother, to see she had a dreamy expression on her face.
“What?” I asked, grabbing my teacup to hide the flush that had no doubt worked its way up my neck and cheeks.
“You two are just like me and your da were at the start. We couldn’t get enough of each other.”
I held my free hand up in the universal sign for stop. “Please. I don’t need details.”
That small smile remained on her face as she sipped her tea. “He seems perfect for you.”
I blinked. “Perfect?”
She nodded. “He adores you. I can tell by the way he looks at you.”
Briefly wondering whether we were talking about the same man, I shook my head and asked, “What time does Orla usually get home from school?”
“Around four.” My mam placed the teacup back down, her hand shaking a little as it hit the saucer.
“Are you drinking again?” I asked, my back straightening. I knew that shake—what it meant.
Fussing with the edges of her robe, she peered at me from under her lashes. “I need to put food on the table, Caitria.”
I blinked. “So, get a job?”
“I have a job,” she replied.
Exasperated, I added, “One that doesn’t involve being on your back.”
Agitated, she flicked some non-existent lint from her knee. “I’m not qualified for a lot of jobs. It’s the best I can do.”
“Ma—”
Her head jerked up angrily. “No, Caitria. You left after that horrible incident.”
Guilt slammed into me like a king tide. Not guilt for killing the bastard, but for disappearing after it happened.
My mam didn’t even know where I’d gone until six months later.
That phone call had been filled with relief and joy, but tainted by sadness when I told her I wasn’t coming back. Not for a long time, at least.
I didn’t know what she told the Garda. Whatever she said—or didn’t say—never led to them tracking me down.
“I sent you money when I could,” I replied.
Heat colored her voice when she replied, “Money is a poor substitute for my daughter.” She paused, rubbed at her temples, and sighed. “I’m sorry. I just—You blind-sided me, Caitria.”
With a sigh, I nodded. “What did the Garda say back then … When they arrived?”
Shifting her hips nervously, she resettled the hem of her dressing gown. “I told them my new boyfriend found my estranged and mentally unstable husband breaking into the house through Orla’s window. There was an altercation and Brian was beaten.”
I winced. What I had done was more than beat Brian.
With a fury I’d never felt before then and hadn’t since, I had wiped him from the face of the planet. I had snapped at the thought of him doing the things he used to do to me, to his own daughter . As that was exactly why he’d been in Orla’s room.
“And they believed you?”
“I’m a very convincing actress.”
No doubt she put those skills to work in her nightly job too, gotta satisfy the customer.
“And the mysterious new boyfriend? They never tried to track him down?”
“Of course they did, but he’d already been dead for eight years.”
My eyes widened as I realized what she was saying. “You gave them da’s name?”
“He said he’d always protect us, and I still believe it to this day.”
My mother’s will to survive shouldn’t astound me. I’d inherited some of her grit myself. But to lie to the Garda like that, and to be so confident in doing so, made me look at her in a different light.
“Why’d you do it, Caitria?”
Her soft question made me recoil. “You know why.”
“Brian looked after you like you were his own daughter. Few men would take on a widowed woman and her young daughter, especially not one so young.”
“He abused me!” I finally let my voice rise. “He sexually abused me for years.”
Her complete lack of reaction stunned me. She knew. She’d known all the time and hadn’t stopped it.
“We’re the weaker sex, Caitria. You learned the lesson sooner than most, and I think you’re stronger for it.”
I blinked, the bitter words I wanted to hurl at her sat on the edge of my tongue.
As I opened my mouth to tell her exactly how she had failed as a mother, Keir swept back into the room like a thundercloud.
His mood was dark, but the smile he’d plastered on his face was unusually bright.
He smelled strongly of Turkish tobacco, like he’d been chain smoking outside.
To my mother, he said, “I must apologize for leaving to make that phone call.” Turning to me, he added, “We have to go.”
“Go?” my mother asked, rising from the couch and tightening the sash on her robe. “But you only just got here.” She was back to the doting mother, and I hated her for the deception.
“My apologies, Nora. We came here on business. It’s quite pressing.”
“All right. Will you come back for dinner? Orla will be so happy to see you. Both of you.”
I glanced at Keir, only to find him already looking at me. He was letting me decide.
Turning back to my mam, I replied, “Dinner sounds okay.”
She nodded. “Good. Come by around six?”
“Okay.”
She walked us to the door, where we said our goodbyes and moved to the car.
“You look like her,” Keir said when we were tucked back inside.
“I have the same hair,” I replied.
“And the same eyes.”
I shook my head. “I have my da’s eyes. Where are we going?”
“To see Gael and Owen O’Mahony.”
“Should I know who they are?”
His gaze flicked in my direction before it returned to the road. “They’re the Boss and Chief of the Sionnach Clan.”
A shivered traced down my spine, as if my body was experiencing trauma from associating with mafia clans. This would be the third clan interaction I’d had in ten years, more than enough for three lifetimes over.
Keir’s large hand landed on my upper thigh, the heat from his palm radiating through my jeans. “Are you okay?”
I tried to brush away his hand, but it was glued to my leg. Glaring at him, I said, “You don’t have to keep the ruse up while we’re in the car.”
“I know, but I like my hands being on you.” He took his eyes from the road and stared at me. “I like to see your pulse jump at the base of your throat when I’m touching you.”
Heat flushed up my neck because the bastard was right. His touch sparked something in my body, something no amount of hate could ever change.
“So, are you okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I retorted.
“Because you look like you’re going to puke.”
“Maybe that’s because I’m in your presence.”
He flashed me a grin. “Oh, I like this bratty side of you, Jynx.”
“Keep touching me without my permission and you’ll see exactly how bratty I can get.”
He chuckled, navigating out of my mother’s estate and making his way further east into Dublin city.
The rest of the ride was silent, and I watched how the suburbs changed into industrial estates, low-rise flats morphing into the busy city of Dublin.
I expected us to stop there, but Keir kept driving southeast until we were surrounded by large Victorian and Georgian houses.
Keir finally pulled into the driveway of what had to be the largest house on the block. The guards at the gate carried rifles across their bodies.
“Is this one of the embassy buildings?” I asked as Keir retracted the window to speak to one of the men.
Keir ignored me, which only pissed me off. What the fuck were we doing here ? As we were waved through the black iron gates, I spun in my seat to watch the heavily armed men take up their positions again.
“Where are we?”
“Gael O’Mahony’s house.”
I gazed up at the Georgian designed house as we slipped into its shadow. “A Clan Boss lives here?”
“Nobody outside the black market and underworld know he’s a Clan Boss,” he replied, shutting off the engine.
“Well, who do they think he is?”
“He’s a successful tech entrepreneur who sold up big in the boom.”
I raised a brow. “And they believe that?” I asked, indicating toward the armed guards and stupidly tall gates and walls.
“People believe what they want to believe,” he replied, and those words felt loaded. I hid in plain sight, who is to say a Clan Boss wouldn’t do the same thing? By the way Keir often stared at me, I had a feeling he wore his own kind of mask, and I bet I’d been one of the few to peek behind it.
Once I’d gathered my thoughts, I wet my lips and replied, “Like they believe you’re a friendly and easy-going guy.”
“And that you’re not a murdering little thing who has a penchant for disappearing,” he quipped.
I stilled; my heart jammed into my throat, battling to escape the truth. “What?”
His grin was triumphant, and he moved to the front door, dragging me beside him. “So you did murder someone. I knew it. We’ll talk about this later.”
“Keir,” I said, exasperated. “I’m not a mu?—”