Chapter 5 Denial
Chapter five
Denial
What peaceful hours I once enjoyed! How sweet their memory still! But they have left an aching void, The world can never fill. - William Cowper, Walking with God
Hailey let herself into an empty house, half expecting to find this was all just an elaborate prank, half expecting to see Holly, intact and unscathed, sitting in the kitchen.
She wasn’t.
But a note from Uncle Pix was:
After making her obligatory phone call, she threw the note away and headed straight for her computer. She typed in “D.O.P.P.L.E.R.,” and several websites came up, but they all had to do with radar or ultrasound or weather.
She sat back in her chair. That fire happened fourteen years ago. Maybe DOPPLER was defunct. In any case, it felt like a dead end, and Hailey’s leg was shaking again.
It was nearly 3pm, and the kitchen clock with its tick-tick-ticking was driving her mad.
She had to get out of there.
Search Headquarters seemed like the logical place to go. Surely her uncle had opened for a reason— maybe he thought Holly’d come back there.
Hailey grabbed her keys and bolted out the door.
That night, customers were in and out of the pub as usual. The regulars offered their polite support, and after a few shots of whiskey (apparently, the Hullachan was serving the fight’n kind), they offered to light the torches, grab the pitchforks, and go after the “jagoffs” that took Holly.
Hailey found the five brothers sequestered in the back room with a map of the city, a bottle of Michael Collins, and a bodhrán, which Dale drummed in perfect jig rhythm.
Hailey left them to it. While they compared notes, Frog—the pub’s giant bouncer— swore up and down to Hailey he’d never take another night off.
He stood, arms crossed, jaw set, eyes fixed on the door; Mrs. Lash prepared dinner, and Fin tended bar.
Hailey waited tables, avoiding eye contact as she ran the plates.
Sometime around seven p.m., the college crowd trickled in and business picked up. The lion’s share headed straight for the bar, especially the ladies, most of whom came to Hullachan’s on a mission to win a date with Fin.
They could have him.
Holly might’ve found him—how did she put it—“genuine and engaging,” but he was more like the big brother Hailey never wanted: slightly smug and more than a little overbearing.
The one time she’d tried to flirt with a customer, Fin went all nuclear-Uncle-Pix on her and would’ve tossed him out, except Pix had beat him to it.
Hailey never saw that kid again. The word “overprotective” always sprang to mind when Hailey thought of Fin.
That and “man-whore.” But the ladies of Pittsburgh loved him and pretty much threw themselves at his feet, and that was just fine by him.
A lot of students drank a few beers then went home, but some would stake out a booth and study there all night, drinking cups of coffee and eating the free pretzels.
Hailey didn’t care who came to drink what, as long as they kept her busy.
Every time she slowed down, the image of Holly’s foot caught up.
She was at the bar filling a carafe of coffee for a regular bookworm when he stepped through the door.
It was a bizarre moment for Hailey, who’d all but given herself whiplash from spinning around every time the pub door opened in hopes of finding Holly standing there.
But this time she did not immediately turn to look, because she already instinctively knew who it was, which was indeed strange, since she’d never actually met him in real life.
She’d only ever seen him in her dreams, but she could feel him enter the room like the heaviness before a storm. She recognized this feeling.
So, when she did turn in his direction, it wasn’t to see who was there, but to acknowledge his presence.
In her dreams, he was always shrouded in a tranquil, shimmering light, a gladiator’s silhouette under a cloak of moonlight. She had no idea what he looked like in real life.
But she did know he was an Envoy.
She also knew how crazy it was to think these things about a stranger who’d just wandered into Hullachan’s, so as he moved through the pub, she moved to get a closer look.
His face was smooth and clean shaven, and his tousled brown hair showed flecks of gold.
Wearing loose blue jeans and a thin black sweater, which really showed off his physique, he strolled to a booth near the window, and like a prince who didn’t give a damn, he sat with his back to her.
She needed to see his eyes. For the moment, though, she was perfectly content to stare at the back of his head.
Fin whipped her in the back with a rolled up a bar towel.
“Ouch!”
“Snap out of it,” he said, and Hailey might’ve detected a note of jealousy in his voice.
The table the Envoy chose was still dirty from the previous patron, and Hailey rushed across the room to clear it.
In all her nervousness, she knocked over a glass, which was still half-full of beer and backwash.
It spilled across the table and poured over the edge, right into the lap of the most handsome man she’d ever seen.
“I’m so sorry!” She opened her eyes wide and blinked furiously to keep from crying. Quickly, she wiped at the table and to her horror, ended up pushing another wave of beer over the edge and onto his legs. Mortified, Hailey froze, not sure what to say or do and bracing for an epic cuss-out.
But he never flinched.
Instead, he lifted his head slowly, very slowly, and looked up at her. With eyes so black they took on a blue sheen, he smiled his forgiveness. Then very briefly, a vertical line of bright violet bolted across his right eye then his left. It happened so fast, Hailey wasn’t sure it was real.
He stared at Hailey, his expression soft, and his eyes…his eyes after the flash, so gentle.
For several seconds, Hailey stared into those eyes.
Strange, how comfortable she felt, locked in his gaze, as if she were seeing a good friend after far too long apart.
She wanted to hug this man, but she also wanted to smack him for staying away for so long.
It was a complicated emotion, compounded by uncertainty.
Hailey blinked. The stress must be getting to her. This man was probably nothing more than another college student. It was nuts to think he visited her in her dreams…and maybe rescued her from a burning house.
Remembering the spilled beer, she blinked again.
“I’m so sorry,” she repeated. “I’ll get you a towel.”
Still he said nothing.
Hailey dashed to the bar but felt her lip trembling and decided mid-stride to go blow her nose instead.
Somewhere between her exhaustion and anxiety was an ugly cry waiting to erupt, but she wasn’t about to let it happen over something as meaningless as a spilled beer. She just needed a moment to breathe.
Bowing her head, she diverted to the ladies’ room.
“I’m sorry, Fin, I’ll be right back,” she called over her shoulder as she zipped past.
Fin grabbed a towel and strode to the booth. He didn’t offer the towel to the gentleman, who didn’t so much as look at Fin when he reached the table.
“You’re a long way from Alaska,” said Fin to the stranger, as he bent to collect a shard from the floor.
The stranger looked down at Fin.
In a smooth, slow, slightly British accent, he said, “As are you, Pádraig.” He bowed slightly then forced a quick cynical smile. “Taking the semester off?” he asked scornfully.
“Research project actually. For Dr. Woodfork.” Fin answered in a brash voice, standing as he spoke and taking care to avoid eye contact. He glanced toward the toilets then back at the table and lowered his voice. “And you’re interfering.”
Asher tilted his head and squinted.
Fin scanned the bar, hoping Asher would get the hint and leave, but the Envoy remained. Fin sighed heavily. “What are you doing here, Asher? Come to check up on me?”
“Are you really so arrogant? Your life is meaningless, and my business here has nothing to do with you.”
“Thanks,” said Fin, sounding even more snarky than usual. “How ‘bout I bring you a cold pint of ‘kiss my ass’ before I kick you out?”
“Mind your manners,” Asher warned. “Or have you forgotten your debt to me?”
That deflated Fin, but only a little. “Fine,” he said. “Just…stop creeping out the waitress, alright?” He threw a look at ladies’ room again. “She’s got enough on her mind.”
He turned to Asher and met the Envoy’s gaze, eyes wide.
It was a last resort, the best he could do before things got ugly.
If this didn’t say, ‘piss off,’ nothing would.
An Envoy visit to Pittsburgh was NOT part of the plan, and Asher was about to ruin things.
Where there was one, there was likely another, lurking, listening.
To Fin’s surprise, Asher stood and turned toward the door, which encouraged him to beat his chest a little.
“In fact, stay away from the girls altogether, okay? That’s why you’re here, right? Morbid Envoy curiosity?”
Asher stopped mid-step, spun around, and put his face close to Fin’s.
Fin struggled and failed to avoid Asher’s stare.
“You forget your place, slave,” Asher said.
“Ever defiant, but you are no Guardian, nor will you ever be. You are far too selfish to be trusted with such a duty. And if Woodfork sent you here to protect the girls, I should inform him that you’ve failed.
” Asher turned toward the door again, took a few steps, and then he stopped and spoke sharply over his shoulder.
“I see only one girl, Fin.” Asher’s eyes erupted into an electrical storm, and Fin’s face fell. He knew what that meant.
Holly wasn’t coming home.