Page 61 of Stolen Mafia Vows
The war can wait though. My priority now is to reach Emily before they convince her that I used her to advance my family’s empire. Because nothing could be further from the fucking truth.
I follow the route to the cottage that the satnav would’ve given Emily. The sky is raincloud heavy, the world a gloomy, gray bubble, and the early morning traffic is sporadic.
I spot Emily driving towards me on a wide country lane lined on both sides by tall grass, and flash my headlights at her, gesturing for her to stop. She pulls over on the side of the road, kills the engine, and sits behind the wheel, gripping it with both hands.
This is bad. I know her well enough to understand that this isn’t the same Emily whose reflection smiled while I touched her in a store fitting room. This isn’t the woman who said, “I do,” in the Blacksmith’s Shop before the wedding ceremony had even begun.
I get out of the car and approach her with limbs that don’t want to cooperate, and my heart thudding dully inside my rib cage. She watches me, her face distorted through the rain on the windshield and the glow of the headlamps.
Emily’s door opens before I reach the car, and she steps out to join me on the grassy verge. A car crawls past, the driver is uncertain if we need assistance until I wave them on.
“Emily?” I reach for her hand, but she snatches it away from me. “Are you alright? Did you speak to your father?”
Her face is pale. “Did you know who I was when I spoke to you at the airport?”
“No.”Shit!She knows everything. “All I saw was a beautiful lady walking towards me. A beautiful lady who had already claimed my heart before she even spoke to me.”
“Cut the bullshit, Eoghan.”
Her words stab me straight through the chest. It’s her dull delivery, as if all the moments we’ve shared since we met have been erased like images from a computer screen.
“It’s the truth. I fell in love withyou, Emily. The smart, sassy, beautiful woman with a huge heart. The woman who wants to save animals. The woman who looked at me with such love, such pure fucking innocence that she opened my eyes to a world I never thought I could be a part of.”
Her chin quivers and she sucks on her top lip, her eyes brimming with tears. At least she isn’t running. She wants to believe me, but they’ve done a good number on her.
“When did you find out who I am?”
“When my father came back from New York with Ruairi’s body.”
I want to rip out my own tongue for lying to her, but she’ll never believe that I married her for the right reasons if I tell her that I knew before they flew out to the States. If I could turn back time and tell her sooner, I would. But it’s too late. I waited too long, and all I can do now is try to minimize the damage and stop her from hurting.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I wanted to, but … your family’s secret wasn’t mine to tell. I thought I could protect you, but I was wrong, and I’m sorry, Emily. I’m so fucking sorry because the last thing I wanted to do was cause you pain.”
I step closer, and she peers into my eyes through the rain.
I want to pick her up, carry her back inside the car, cover her with a blanket and hold her until she looks at me the way she looked at me when I slipped Gran’s ring onto her finger. But I also need her to come to me. I need to hear that she believes me. I need her to trust me again so that I can keep her safe.
“Who killed your brother?”
Wham! The questions cuts right through me but with a blunt knife this time.
“What did your dad tell you?”
“Answer the question, Eoghan.”
Rain drizzles into my eyes and trickles from the end of my nose. Emily is shivering, her clothes drenched through and clinging to her body, the slanting water pelting my back.
“Emily, let me take you home. We can talk about this when we’re dry.”
“I want to talk about it now.” Her teeth are chattering. I instinctively move to pull her into my arms, but she backs away.
I inhale a long deep breath; it does nothing to quell the thud-thud-thud of my heartbeat. “Your brother Caleb killed Ruairi.”
It’s as if all the substance seeps out of her, leaving her a deflated outline of the person who was standing in front of me a moment ago. I catch her as her knees buckle, and hold her against my chest, wrapping both arms around her to protect her. From what, I don’t even know at this point.
She trembles like a bird with a broken wing. Her arms hang limply by her sides, but I’ll take this as a win. She still trusts me enough to let me hold her.
