Chapter Nine
Maeve
I’ve made mistakes in the past—none as grave as this one.
I blame my bruised heart for blindly rushing into a decision, but I wanted to fix this for Trigger.
I thought bringing my father into the equation would help smooth things out, and now we’re both sitting on my couch, staring at the uniformed madman pointing a gun at us.
The evidence and papers I presented to both of them are scattered all over my living room floor, torn apart then stomped over as if that’s going to erase the evidence.
“Gareth,” my father says calmly. “Put the gun away and let’s talk calmly about this.”
“Shut up!” Gareth roars.
“Look—”
“Shut the fuck up, William,” he growls, kicking my coffee table and tilting it onto its side.
“You think I don’t know that you look down on me?
Being the district attorney doesn’t mean bull.
I’m the one with the gun now.” He starts pacing, stomping back and forth.
“Christ, being friendly with you all these years was a pain in the ass. Anya wouldn’t stop comparing me to you.
” His eyes are red as he waves his gun around, his voice taking on an exaggerated female voice when he speaks.
“Oh look, Gareth, William just took his family on a vacation to Italy. Oh, they just bought a new car. Isn’t the necklace he bought his wife gorgeous? ”
If I didn’t already have one foot in the grave, I would make a crack about how my father really knows how to pick his friends. But I’m not in the mood to make jokes. My heart is hammering against my ribs, frantically beating in my ears.
I’m scared shitless of that gun he keeps waving around.
“You sent an innocent man to jail, Gareth,” my father hisses, a vein popping in his forehead. “I trusted you. I trusted that you were a good cop!”
“He wasn’t innocent, don’t you understand that?” Gareth roars. “That street rat was fucking my wife.”
“He’s not a street rat!” I blurt out, and suddenly all eyes are on me.
Great, Maeve. Perfect. Put the madman’s focus on you. Genius.
“You’re fucking him too, aren’t you?” Gareth sneers after a moment, and I flush with embarrassment at my father’s questioning glance.
“I’m his attorney—”
“Bullshit!” Gareth roars, loud enough to send fear crawling through my skin. My fear isn’t just for me but for Trigger as well. I just know Gareth will go after him next. “I can see it on your face. You fucking whore.”
“Watch how you speak to my daughter, Gareth. I won’t tolerate it.”
I sit up a little straighter when my father defends me, feeling a little bit of guilt for ever doubting how much my father cares for me. He thinks men make for better criminal defense lawyers, but he does love me. I know this.
I just wanted to prove to him that I could do it.
Looks like I’ll never get the chance, seeing as how we’ll probably meet our ends here.
I can tell from the look in Gareth’s eyes that he intends it to be so.
At least I had the foresight to call Trigger and slide the phone under the couch.
It’s debatable whether he’ll even pick up my call, considering how he left this morning.
I sigh, deeply regretful that I’ll never feel his touch again. I only had a day to experience what it was like to belong in the arms of a man as beautiful as Trigger.
At least I got to love.
The word doesn’t bring me fear as it did yesterday. I accept it.
“This is the last time you will ever speak like that to me, William,” Gareth hisses, raising his gun in our direction.
I brace for pain…for death. But a sudden noise grabs our attention and we all turn to look at the door just as Trigger storms in.
He’s dressed the way he was when he left this morning, with a cold expression on his face that sends a shiver running down my spine.
“Trigger!” I call out, unable to keep the affection from my voice. I experience a series of emotions all at once. Joy at seeing him, love for him and fear for his safety. He has a gun in his hand and my first thought is that he’s not supposed to be carrying one. He’s on parole.
Stupid.
As if anyone would care about that if we get out of this alive.
He’s the man Gareth wants to hurt the most. Of course he would come here prepared, but before the rest of us can react, I feel a rough grip on my arm and I’m forced to my feet before I feel the cold steel of the gun pressed against my temple.
“Drop your fucking gun or I’ll blow her brains out,” Gareth says, his voice sharp against my ears. I squeeze my eyes shut and for the second time, I brace for pain. For death. This is it. The end of the road for me.
“Gareth, let my daughter go. I promise I will take care of this. I’ll—”
“I told you to shut the fuck up!” he rages, pressing the gun deeper into my skin and no doubt bruising me. “And you, put that fucking gun down or I’ll shoot her.”
“You shoot her and I’ll kill you. I don’t care about going to prison again,” Trigger says, his voice cold as ice. I slowly open my eyes to find his eyes are the same temperature. And then they shift to mine.
“I messed up,” I whisper, tears falling down my cheeks. “I thought I could fix this for you. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he says, something dangerous crossing his eyes when Gareth pins his gun harder into my temple. “I’ll take care of it now, okay?”
How? I want to ask.
How the hell is he going to take care of a situation where a bullet is a finger’s press away from blowing my genius brain out? But he’s asking for trust, I realize. Just like I asked for his trust a couple days ago in that courtroom.
“Fuck this!” Gareth yells, and I scream when two shots ring through the air. I have a moment to question if it’s supposed to hurt. If I’m going to feel life slip from under my fingertips after the trigger has been pulled, but my feet stay rooted to the floor and the pain never comes.
Slowly, the grip on my arm loosens, followed by a loud thud.
And then I’m being pulled into familiar arms, a solid grip that sends my heart galloping for an entirely different reason. “Don’t look down, baby, I’ve got you,” Trigger whispers into my hair, burying my face into his chest so I don’t accidentally see whatever it is he just did to Gareth.
I’m too weak and shaky to fight him on that. “Is he dead?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says just as I catch the sound of sirens and feet stomping toward my apartment.
Trigger guides me out of the apartment as cops flood the place, and it isn’t until we’re in the hallway that he pulls back from the embrace.
His brows are drawn in concern as he runs his eyes over my face.
I wince when he runs a finger over the bruise Gareth left behind.
“Did that fucker hurt you anywhere else?”
“No.” I shake my head, looking up into his captivating blue eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—”
“Fuck, baby,” he says, emotions thick in his voice as he pulls me back into the embrace. “I could have lost you to that maniac. Damn near killed myself on the way here. The thought of him hurting you…”
“I’m fine.” This time, I do the comforting, running a hand down his back. We stay like that for a while, until I feel a heavy presence watching from behind. I turn around and I’m met by my father’s hard eyes.
He clears his throat. “Thank you, Maeve, for exposing Gareth’s actions to me.
I trusted that man for too long, and you never should have been exposed to a man like him.
You could have been killed, and I only blame myself.
” His voice catches, and there are tears in his eyes. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”
“We’re fine, Dad. Maybe you should thank Trigger for saving both our lives despite everything that was done to him.”
My father is a prideful man, but after a moment of hesitation, he faces the man he unknowingly helped ruin. “I regret what happened to you,” he says sternly. “I will personally see to it that all your charges are dropped, and I’ll petition the court to clear your record of previous convictions.”
I blink at that, stunned by my father’s words.
It’s not an apology, but it’s the closest thing I imagine we’ll get from the man.
He steps forward and I watch with amazement as he puts out his hand for Trigger to shake.
“I would like to thank you for saving my daughter’s life. I’m forever in your debt.”
The dream doesn’t end with my father’s words, or even after the two shake hands.
I feel like I’m in some kind of alternative universe as we give our statement, but my father sends us off, saying he’ll take care of the rest. A part of me still believes I’m in some kind of dream as I ride with Trigger to the clubhouse.
He takes me to his apartment, helps me change out of my clothes and into his T-shirt, then tucks me into his bed.
“I just need to head down to update Saint, will you be okay for a few minutes?” he asks, reaching up and touching me and…I ache. I’m reminded of this morning when he left. I’m already so used to his little touches and caresses, but when he stormed out this morning, he didn’t touch me.
“Gareth said you slept with Anya for more than just one night.”
He shakes his head, rubbing a hand down my cheek.
“It was just one night, but I think he assumed it was ongoing because she was seeing other men at the time too. Heck, I barely remember the night,” he says, brushing his lips over my cheek.
“I never saw her again after that single encounter.” I close my eyes when he leans in to brush his mouth over mine.
“Gareth obsessed over a night that meant nothing to either party. But I suppose I should thank him. In a roundabout way, he brought you to me.”
His words put me at ease, and I feel my insecurities slip away. “Okay,” I say with a smile. “You can go ahead and do what you need to do. I’ll be waiting here.”
“I won’t be long,” he promises with another kiss before he leaves.