Chapter 12 Marlowe #2
“Any other man might take offense at that, but I’ll let it go since I’ve clearly got some stiff competition in the form of the menagerie and Raff.”
The little boy hands Pepper the last bit of mango.
“Take ’em all down, sister,” Pepper says as he leans in to eat his fruit.
“Uncle Dec!” Raff runs over to Declan, wrapping his arms around his legs. “I fucking feeded Pepper!”
He laughs. “Don’t tell your da you know that word.”
“What word?” Raffy asks.
“Fuck,” Declan says.
Lola sees an escape and darts out the door. Raff takes off after him with all the other animals in tow.
Declan slowly walks toward me. “Pepper’s a bad influence.”
“So are you,” I say.
He traces a finger over my lips, then dips his head close. I can almost feel the soft, firm pressure of his mouth on mine.
“I’m his uncle, and your bird’s definitely been teaching him bad words.”
I bite back a laugh. I don’t want to have these unexpected bursts of liking him. “You taught him.”
“Some.”
My heart thrums. I want his kiss. I want…
“The food for Pepper, was it okay? Your mam gave me bird food, but I didn’t want that to be all he had. So I had Maeve ask your housekeeper, and she said the bird ate a lot of fresh fruit and vegetables.”
“Ask him yourself,” I say with a smirk.
Declan pulls back to smooth Pepper’s feathers. “Do you like your food?”
“Fucking brilliant,” Pepper squawks.
I wait until Pepper finishes eating and basking in all the attention, then I follow Declan out of the room. He pulls the door closed behind us.
“Any word on Daddy?” I ask.
“These things take time,” he says. “I still don’t know who has him.”
“What about whoever shot at us? Did you find anything out about that shit show at my apartment?”
In the hallway, he turns and presses me into the shadows. My limbs weaken, my bones melting under the intensity of his stare. “You. Shot at you. And the dead bird…” His lips graze my ear. “I buried it in the back garden.”
My breath’s hard to catch. I want to shove him away so badly for pointing out what I already know about the shooting. But the soft shadow in his eyes stops me.
Because Declan Murphy, dangerous mafia man, took time out to respect the little creature, and his heart just might hurt for it.
Or maybe I’m projecting. “Why would someone do that?”
“People do sick things. The bird was young, but…” he sighs. “I didn’t see any wounds, and no one had broken its neck. Maybe they poisoned it, maybe they found it after it fell from its nest, or maybe it died of shock. I don’t know. But I did my best. Little Filbert’s at rest now.”
I stare at him. “You named the bird?”
“Out of respect.”
“Filbert?”
He shrugs. “It fit.”
Tears sting my eyes. I don’t like him. He’s my prison guard, a spy, and my keeper. So why does him doing something that sweet make me want to cry and melt in a different way?
“I’m going to go for a run after dinner, if you want to come.”
I hate asking. “What about the shooter?”
“He won’t be taking shots at anyone anytime soon.”
He leans in and kisses me softly. “But if you’re scared, there are other ways to exercise.”
I lift an eyebrow. “A run would be good.”
“Grand.” He winks at me and my heart leaps in my chest.
Traitorous bitch.
I flop down on the bed, my legs aching in a good way, the burn in my lungs finally subsiding.
When Declan said he was going for a run, he meant it.
He said he usually takes the dogs but not this time.
He pushed the pace until my limbs turned to lead, and if I wasn’t fit, I’d have collapsed long before we got home.
Lola stalks into the room, jumps on the bed next to me, and curls into my side.
A soft purring sound comes from the other side of the bed, and I look down to find Bruiser and Clawzilla.
Without waiting for an invitation, they both jump up, too, and I’m suddenly surrounded by cats while I wait for Declan to join us.
He said he needed to speak to his brothers once we got back, so I came up here alone.
Not that I was alone for long.
“Maybe I’ll become a mad cat lady since I’m stuck here all the time with you guys,” I say.
Then Arnold trots into the room, Petal racing in beside him.
They settle on the floor, and part of me thinks I should have pet beds in here, even though this is a temporary set up. They’re not even my animals. But all animals like to have their own places to rest. I click from website to website until my eyes get heavy.
I’m half dozing when my phone buzzes.
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, a message from Leon pops up on the screen.
Meet me outside in five.
I shake my head and type a response.
How do you even know where I am?
Three gray dots follow. And then…
Don’t worry about that. We need to talk.
I slip off the bed, quickly pull on jeans and a t-shirt, then shove my feet into my sneakers. A little voice niggles my brain. Leaving this compound by myself after having been shot at probably isn’t my smartest decision, but if it’s about my dad, I need to know what he’s found out.
Besides, Declan wouldn’t have taken me here if he thought there was serious danger lurking.
They’re mafia. There are children in the house. So I should be safe.
And Leon is my friend. He’d never hurt me.
Although I still have no clue how he found me. Maybe he asked my mother? But how would she have the Murphy home address?
I push back my hair and tiptoe downstairs. Maybe I should find Declan. But when I walk down one of the hallways, I hear tense voices.
Doesn’t sound like I should interrupt.
The alarm is off, so I slip outside quietly. I barely make it to the sidewalk before I hear my name.
“Marlowe.”
I whirl around, almost slamming face-first into Leon.
“Do you have a death wish?” I whisper.
“No, I needed to see you.”
A strong hand grips my arm, pulling me away from Leon. Then Declan shoves himself between us, and points a gun at Leon’s head.
“Oh yeah?” he snarls. “Why don’t you tell me why you need to see my wife so badly?”