Chapter Twelve #2
Reaching out for him when she was half-awake only to find his side of the bed cold was such a silly thing to worry about right now, but it had stung all the same.
She stepped back and allowed Keira to put a door between them and anyone who might come by.
Aiden’s parents would think she was a gold digger the same way the rest of his family did, but they might actually try to do something about it.
He’ll handle it. He’s handled everything else up to this point.
It didn’t comfort her as much as she would have liked. “When’s the last time you saw them?”
“Over a year ago.”
She let go of her own worries and focused on Keira. She was obviously concerned about facing her parents if she’d sought Charlie out.
A year was a long time not to see someone—especially family.
Charlie took in the woman’s body, skinny in a way that seemed to indicate not eating, rather than exercising.
And the circles under her eyes and the way her cheeks were hollowed out.
From what she’d heard of Seamus O’Malley, he cared less about his daughter’s mental and physical health than he did about her value as an investment.
It was tempting to think that Keira’s mother would be different, if only because she was alive and well and able to be a mother to her kids.
Charlie’s tendency was to give mothers almost godlike power because she didn’t have one of her own.
She knew that. It was nice to think that every mother who managed to live to see their children grown was a good mother, but it wasn’t reality.
The woman hadn’t stepped in when Keira’s siblings were in need, so there was no reason to think she’d do so now.
“Keira—”
“I know, okay? I know I look like shit, and I don’t need everyone and their dog telling me that I look like shit. My mom will lecture me for hours, and my father will just look right through me. I don’t have it in me to deal with either.”
Charlie knew all about doing whatever it took to survive.
Hadn’t she been in a similar place a few years ago?
Her downward spiral would have lasted a lot longer if Jacques—a bartender she barely knew at the time, not her fucking dad, who should have done it—hadn’t stepped in and basically slapped some sense into her.
I wonder how Jacques is doing…She put the thought away and refocused on the woman in front of her.
Keira needed an escape. She needed to feel in control—maybe for the first time in years. Charlie didn’t pretend to know the woman inside and out, but she knew what made her feel better when she was clawing her way back from the edge.
“Give me two minutes.” She went to the dresser. “I just need to grab my gun.”
“Gun?” Keira walked deeper into the room, curled her lip at the rumpled sheets, and walked to the window to open it. “Holy shit, it smells like fucking in here. God, you two are like teenagers.”
“Yeah, well…magic pussy.”
She snorted. “I’m never going to live that one down, am I?”
“It’s a classic. Give me a second to make a few calls.
” Charlie was conscious of Keira’s attention on her as she figured out which Krav Maga gym was closest, and allowed drop-ins.
Then she pulled her gun from her suitcase and strapped on her ankle holster.
A few seconds later and the weapon was barely a bulge against her jeans. “Let’s go.”
“What does a poker dealer need to carry a nine-millimeter for?”
“Good eye.” She shot Keira an appraising look.
It was tempting to brush off the question, but it also wasn’t fair.
“I was attacked a few years ago. I was helpless, even with all the training I’d had, and I’ve promised myself I’ll never feel like that again.
The gun is just a tool—not some magical protection—but it might make the difference between being the one on the ground and being the one standing over my attacker. ”
Keira considered her for a long moment. “It’s entirely possible that my snap judgment of you was a shitty call. You have a past, don’t you?”
“We all do.”
“Isn’t that the fucking truth?” She followed Charlie out into the hallway. “Not that way. Come on.”
They took the back set of stairs down to the kitchen and ducked out a door leading to a walkway to the street.
A few minutes later, Charlie caught sight of a man shadowing them half a block back.
He was a big dude with shoulders that would do a linebacker proud, and he moved like a fighter—light on his feet despite his size. Dangerous. “That man is following us.”
Keira craned her neck to look, and sighed. “It’s okay. That’s Mark.”
She seemed to remember Aiden mentioning a Mark at one point. “Does Mark often trail you when you leave the house?”
“Him or another one of Liam’s people. Mark is Liam’s cousin, so he gets the fun task of being my babysitter more often than most.” Keira shrugged.
“I’m an O’Malley. There are people who’d snatch me up to use against my family.
” Something passed over her face, gone too quickly to identify. “Goes with the territory.”
“I hadn’t thought of that.” She had, but it was one thing to know that Aiden routinely sent one of his men to watch Keira and totally another to have the spooky experience of being shadowed by a stranger. Of course, Mark wasn’t a stranger to Keira, but the fact remained.
No wonder the woman does whatever it takes to escape sometimes. I would, too.
Her phone rang, and she knew who it was even before she looked at the caller ID. “Good morning, Aiden.”
“Where the hell are you going?”
She shot another look at their tail. “That was fast.”
“Mark reports to me, so imagine my surprise when I find out that my fiancée and my sister just staged a jailbreak and are walking down the goddamn street without a protection detail.”
So much for any lasting feel-good sensation from their night before. Charlie rolled her eyes. “One, we already discussed how much I despise having to check in with you before doing anything. Two, you know as well as I do that I’m more than capable of taking care of myself and Keira.”
“There are other factors in play.”
So we’re just going to ignore logic when it doesn’t suit our argument? Nice, Aiden. His icy bullying tactics might work with his family, but she wasn’t about to play that game. “It’s got to be something of a shock waking up to realize your parents are back in town.”
He cursed and then changed tactics. “Just get your ass back here, Charlie. There’s trouble.”
It was like she could actually see his thought process: Commanding didn’t work. Let’s try warning about danger. Sooner or later, he’d realize that she preferred him to just be fucking honest with her instead of trying that high-and-mighty O’Malley lord crap. “You mean politics.”
“They’re the same thing.”
That answered that. She shook her head. “No, Aiden. Your man can follow us—at a discreet distance—if that will make you feel better, but we both needed out of the house, so we’re getting out of the house.”
“Charlie—”
“See you tonight.” She hung up, frowning when she caught Keira looking at her strangely. “What?”
“No one talks to my brother like that.” She shook her head. “Hold that thought. I mean no one talks to him like that and gets away with it, without him putting them under house arrest or some other macho bullshit.”
One didn’t become the head of a mob family without a certain level of don’t-cross-me. If anyone in the family could talk back to Aiden and get away with it, he’d have anarchy on his hands before long, and anarchy was dangerous for everyone.
But, for better or worse, Charlie was outside the hierarchy—and he’d put her there. If he’d wanted a meek little fake fiancée, then he should have called someone else. She wouldn’t know meek if it bit her in the ass, and having him try to order her around only made her dig in her heels.
Charlie shrugged. “I’m sleeping with him, and I have his ring on my finger. It gives me the ability to talk to him however I damn well please when we aren’t in front of an audience. And, no, before you ask, you don’t count as an audience. You’re family.”
“You know, Charlie, I think I like you, magic pussy and all.”
She snorted. “Give it a rest.”
“I will. Promise.” Keira looked around, her furious attitude melting away in favor of curiosity. “So, where are we going?”
“Keira, my dear, we’re going to teach you how to fight.”