Chapter 15 Callum
Callum
Tacit (adj) understood without being openly expressed
Maeve is still in a hazy state when we get back to the car.
She slides into the passenger seat, and I lean in to buckle her seatbelt, pausing to kiss her forehead before I close the door.
She’s staring blankly ahead, eyes expressionless.
I take several deep breaths as I walk around the car to the driver’s side.
I shut my door and put the key in the ignition, and my phone rings.
“Hey, Ma. What’s up?” I ask with a hint of worry.
“I was just checking to see if you’d heard from Maeve today,” my mother chirps on the other end. “I tried calling about where we were going to eat for lunch.”
“Uh, yeah, she’s actually sitting right here with me,” I say, glancing over at Maeve. “Her phone died. One sec.”
I cover the speaker and whisper to Maeve, “Mom tried calling about lunch. You still want to go, or should I…?”
“I still want to go,” she says as she gazes drowsily through the windshield. “It’s been far too long.” A gentle smile pulls at the corners of her mouth. I can’t help but smile in return as I hand the phone to her.
“Hey, Aisling, sorry I missed your call. I forgot to plug my phone in last night. Want to meet at the bistro for lunch?”
She holds my stare as she listens to my mother, then leans forward. I lean in to meet her, and she gives me a soft, gentle kiss.
Fuck, it’s almost as good as the passionate ones.
“Okay, I have to go shower and change, and Callum will drop me off. Yes, ma'am. I love you, too.” She hangs up, staring at the phone for a few moments, and I can tell that she needed to hear those words from my mother.
“So, where to, my lady?” I ask as I crank the Mustang, the roar of the engine drowning out my voice. I look over at Maeve, and a grin stretches across her face.
“Well, I would love it if you, kind sir, would drive to my father's so I can shower and put on a more fitting outfit before I see your mother.” She’s still smiling, and god, if it didn’t make me want to consume her right here, right now.
“Yes, ma'am, Mrs… I mean, Miss Collins.” She blushes, catching my slip-up.
I give her a slow, intentional kiss before we leave the parking lot. She turns the radio on and decides to use the aux cord, plugging it into her phone and starting a song. It’s Sleep Token. I feel the corner of my mouth lift in a half-smile, and I turn to look at her.
“What?” she asks with a raised brow.
I just smile at her for a second, taken aback.
I didn’t think Sleep Token was really Maeve’s style, but I’d toyed with the idea of introducing her to them while we were out of the country.
They’d be playing in Ireland during our visit.
I’d been hesitant to finalize plans because I wasn’t sure she’d like them.
I decided to buy those tickets as soon as possible.
“Sleep Token is my favorite band. When in the hell did you start listening to them?”
“I had been listening to them for close to a year before some arse doxed the entire band. I still refuse to look at anything that would show their faces. I love their anonymity. They don’t want the constant recognition, but they are out there doing what they love,” she says thoughtfully.
I reach over and grab her hand, kissing the tally marks on the inside of her wrist in white ink as we pull out of the diner’s parking lot, the gravel shifting beneath the tires before we pull onto the smooth pavement.
I roll the windows down, stealing glances at Maeve with her head leaned against the door, the wind blowing her hair back, eyes closed.
Beautiful.
We reach an intersection and I roll to a gentle stop, checking my rearview mirror. I see Ronan about two car lengths back doing exactly what he’s supposed to be doing.
A dark sedan turns in front of us, slowing as it passes by. My instincts have me wanting to reach for my weapon, but I don’t. I call Ronan quickly.
“What’s up, boss?”
“See that blacked-out sedan that just passed us?”
“Yeah, I see them. Want me to have them tailed?”
“Yes. Something’s not right.”
“You got it. Also, the lights are green now,” Ronan says, chuckling as I quickly let off the brake.
“Dick,” I mutter softly to myself as I slide the phone back into my pocket.
“So what was that about?” Maeve asks from beside me. I sigh, reaching for her hand again.
“It’s probably nothing, but…” I trail off, wanting to be honest but not wanting her to worry. “I just… I have this uneasy feeling. That car that passed us back there, something wasn’t right about it. I try not to ignore my gut instincts anymore.”
“How often does this happen?” She asks, brows furrowed.
“More than it used to, unfortunately. It’s been at least once a week that I have to send someone to tail a vehicle, only for them to lose it. I wish it wasn’t like this.”
Maeve looks agitated and confused.“Like what?” She asks, shifting in her seat to face me. “What exactly do you mean, Callum?”
The bite in her tone surprises me.
“I mean,” I say gently, grabbing her hand and kissing the back, “I wish that we could have had more than a few hours of peace before the bullshit started.”
I watch as her shoulders relax. Both of us were exhaling a breath of relief. The remainder of the car ride was silent aside from Maeve singing. I spend the rest of the drive with my head on a swivel, looking for anything suspicious.
After another fifteen minutes, we arrive at her father's house.
The doorman opens the door for us as we approach, greeting us pleasantly, and then closes the door once we are both inside.
Maeve gives me a quick kiss before heading upstairs to shower and change.
Not even a minute after she reaches the top, Orin and Ronan walk in the front door. They both look worried.
We exchange glances, and Orin says, “Cormac is at your parents’ place for a meeting. We can talk in here,” he says, gesturing toward the sitting room.
“The sedan?” I ask, and Orin shakes his head. Ronan pulls out his phone and reads a message.
“Fitz said, ‘The name on the rental is Far Darrig. It traces back to a shell account and dead ends.'” He looks up at Orin and me, confused. “Why does Far Darrig ring a bell?”
“Because Far Darrig is the Red Man our parents told us about as kids. The mischievous faerie that plays malicious pranks. The evil twin to the leprechaun.”
“So whoever it is is fucking with us,” Ronan says what we are all thinking.
“Have Fitz keep looking for other connections, and get back to me if he finds anything else.”
We walk across the foyer to the sitting room. I make a beeline for the wet bar in the back corner of the room, pour myself a whiskey, and stare out of the large window overlooking Imogen’s garden.
“I didn’t know it would still get to her so bad,” Ronan says as he sits heavily on the rich leather sofa in the middle of the room, rubbing his jaw and sighing heavily.
“She hasn’t had an episode like that in a few years. At least, not while she’s awake,” Orin says, sitting down in one of the two matching leather chairs facing the sofa.
“How often is she having the nightmares?” I ask, leaning against the wall and swirling my drink.
“She has them anytime she sleeps more than three to four hours at a time,” Orin answers with a tone of defeat, rubbing the back of his neck and staring at the floor.
“She had one last night, too. We had been asleep for a little over four hours. It was bad. I didn’t know what to do.” I stare at the contents of my glass. I could have been with her. I could have prevented the whole thing.
“Fuck, man. I’m sorry,” Orin says, shaking his head. “I should have warned you. I wasn’t even thinking about it. She usually sets alarms on her phone to go off throughout the night. That keeps her from slipping into the nightmares.”
“I wish I could kill those shit excuses for men over again and make them suffer slowly,” Ronan snarls viciously.
I down my drink and set the glass on the bar. “Well, one day we will figure out who was behind the whole thing, and not just the puppets. Then we'll finally be done with the fuckers. Anyone find anything else about it?”
But I already know the answer. It’s the same answer I’d been getting for the last seven years.
We know that someone inside the business was involved, but we hadn’t been able to determine who or why.
We thought we had them multiple times, with differing information being told to different individuals.
Someone knew what they were doing, and I am determined to find out who it is.
“No,” Orin and Ronan say simultaneously, anger laced in their voices.
“Well, before Maeve gets down here, I want to give you two a rundown of what happened last night,” I say, sitting down in the chair beside Ronan. They both lean forward expectantly, resting their elbows on their knees.
“Maeve knows what happened that night nine years ago, with me and Nessa. And she knows Nessa was behind it. She doesn’t know all of the details, though,” I say with a sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. “We were still at the restaurant, so I couldn’t really go into the rest of it.”
“I take it that’s why you both left before dinner had been served? How'd that even come up in conversation? You two had only been inside for about forty-five minutes before you walked back out,” Orin said, eyes narrowed.
I recap the conversation for them, how Maeve and I had been trading questions as a way to catch up, and how she’d asked me about all the men following us.
“I couldn’t lie to her,” I say, standing up and walking back over to the wet bar.
Another whiskey is definitely in order. “I’d kept her in the dark for too long.
Thought she wouldn’t be able to handle it,” I trail off, shaking my head as I pour the drink.
“Stupid of me. She’s more than capable. I told her about the Costas, about them showing back up, and that worried her.
” I gulp more of the whiskey down and lean against the bar.
“I told her about how I was the one who picked her up off that disgusting mattress and didn’t leave her side until she began to wake. ”
Orin and Ronan were watching me, their expressions surprised, guarded. They knew this was big.
“I then told her that the party didn’t happen like she thought it had. She tried to argue with me, but I made her listen. She was shocked, and I could tell I had to get us out of there. Go somewhere more private. By the way, did you take care of the hostess?”
“Yeah, Fletcher had her tossed out immediately,” Orin says with a grin. “You should have seen her face as we walked in. She tried flirting with Ronan.”
I smirk at Ronan, who flips me and Orin the bird.
“We have to drop Maeve off at the bistro. She’s having lunch with my mom.
After they’re done, Maeve and I will be going to Bryant’s store to pick out furniture for the house, so give him a call and let him know we’ll be there about four o’clock and we want a private shopping experience.
” Ronan nods his head and exits the room to make the call.
“What are we going to do about Nessa?” Orin asks, looking tense. “I have this feeling that she’s going to try and pull some stupid shit.”
“I’ve been thinking about that myself,” I say, sighing heavily. “Maeve shut her phone off after Nessa attempted to call earlier, so I’m sure Nessa’s losing her shyte right now. She won’t be attending the lunch today, so at least we don’t have to worry about that,” I say.
“It’s all set up, boss man,” Ronan says as he walks back in, dropping back down onto the sofa.
“Thanks. I also want to put a tail on Nessa. Do we know where she is right now?”
“Not at the moment. She seems to be keeping under the radar since she found out about the dinner,” Orin responds.
“Let’s get someone on her as soon as we figure out where she is. Have a few men around the bistro on standby,” I say, and Orin nods, pulling out his phone to send out the orders. “Also, Maeve and I will be going to Ireland on Monday. Would that be a problem for you, Orin?” I turn toward him.
“Nah, I don’t have anything conflicting with that, so we’re all set. I figured Maeve would go with you anyway,” he says, leaning back in the chair and relaxing slightly.
The sound of footsteps causes us all to turn our heads towards the door.
Maeve stops there, eyeing us suspiciously.
She’s in a black mini skirt with black tights, knee-high black boots, and a thin black sweater.
Her hair is down, still a little damp from her shower, barely any makeup on her beautifully freckled face.
“What? Is it too much?” she asked, slightly worried.
“No, it’s perfect,” I said in haste, realizing that I’d been staring at her hungrily.
“Well, I don’t want to be late, so we should head out. Where will you and numbnuts be while we eat?” she says, shooting Ronan a smirk.
“We’ll be eating inside, just far enough away that we can still have a visual,” I say. “I just… I just want to be there. I don’t want to crowd you, but with everything going on, and that car earlier…” I trail off.
Maeve smiles and places a hand on my arm. “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you’ll be there.”
“Well, boys,” she says loudly, “let’s head out.” She turns toward the front door, then spins back around quickly, looking at Ronan. “By the way. You need to work on tailing someone without being noticed. I saw you behind us the entire way to the restaurant last night.”
She smirks, then spins around with a flourish, as Ronan watches her go, his mouth hanging open.
“Hey! I’m the best at being sneaky!” Ronan calls out to her as he attempts to defend himself. “I wasn’t trying to hide!”
I smile to myself as I follow Maeve to the front door. Maybe she and Ronan will make up after all.