Page 52 of Hostile Bond
“Jet lag is a bitch, Mammy,” I try to make light of it, offering her a pointless smile.
“Here, sweetheart, this is the last of the stew. I warmed it up in the microwave.” She fusses over me, tucking damp hair behind my ears, and pulling the lengths behind my shoulders to get it out of the way.
“Thank you.” I graciously accept the hot bowl of gravy, meat, and potatoes, stuffing the spoon straight in. “I’ve missed you…” I tell her around a mouthful of mush. “You don’t get stew like this in Miami.”
“Sinéad…” Mammy folds her arms as her face contorts in thought. “Did André––if you’re married––then he forced himself on you––”
I swallow, witnessing fear spring into her eyes. “Mammy, this might sound crazy to you, but I love Dré. And he loves me, in his own way.”
“Love?” she grunts out her displeasure. “You don’t run from real love.”
“It’s complicated.” I lower my voice to a murmur. “He made me promise not to leave him. As soon as I heard his uncle was coming here, I snuck out while he was asleep. I broke that promise to protect you. This is between you, me, and Sean.”
“How on earth did you end up married to a Souza when Frankie took you?”
How can I tell her that André had won my hand in marriage during a game of cards, married me the very same night, and that I accidentally fell in love with him thereafter?
That’s our complex, whirlwind love story.
“It was a coincidence.” I scrape the bottom of the now empty bowl with the spoon. “He showed up at the right time. Would you believe he named his puppy after me long before we’d bumped into each other again?” A goofy smile tugs at the corner of my lips. “And he still rides motorcycles.”
“Oh, Sinéad.” Mammy takes the bowl from me and sets it on a stack of papers. “I can tell how much you care about him, but––” I swallow hard at the look of genuine pity in her gaze. “Those kinds of men play by different rules. They’re incapable of love when they’re bred to be evil. It’s easier for them to hate than to truly love anyone––let alone a woman. He’s Sean’s nephew, sweetheart. Families like that protect their own. And if you’ve escaped––”
Goosebumps scurry down my arms. I don’t expect her to understand how I know she’s wrong. Our love transcended the years we were apart and grew into a beast that neither of us could tame. His love was real. I’d witnessed the living and breathing emotion in his eyes, and felt it in everything he did for me.
Unfortunately, I’ve locked horns with the devil inside of him and that’s how I’ve ultimately destroyed us. I told him my secret when it was too late. A secret I always feared would rip us apart. And to make matters worse, I didn’t give him the opportunity to fix it since he could never know the pain I’ve known, or put me before his own blood. But deep within the fibers of my fractured heart, I trust him not to kill me for it.
“I know he loves me, Mammy. I’m the one who broke us. Not him. We were trying for a baby. Planning our own family. Something I’d never even considered as a possibility before. Which means I hate Sean more today than I’ve ever done. He’s ruined my life, Mammy.”
She smiles gently at me. “Well, I’m relieved you didn't get pregnant. Having a child with a man like André has devastating consequences. Look at us, Sinéad––we’re in this mess, because Frankie got me pregnant and left me penniless with a newborn. He didn’t want anything to do with you until it suited him.”
“Mammy!” I straighten in defense. “He’s not like Sean, or Frankie. André is different.”
“If he’s so different, then why did you sneak off in the middle of the night rather than ask for his help?”
“Because Sean is his uncle,” I grit out with growing frustration. “Family is everything to Dré.” Leaning forward, I remove the Glock from behind my back and slam it on the desk, wincing at the thud of lethal metal. “If Sean comes anywhere near us, I’ll shoot him, Mammy. Right in his fucking dick.”
“Sinéad… you’re not like them.” She cuts in. “You’re not a natural born killer.” Her head bows, her expression crestfallen. “I can’t let you sacrifice your future like this.” She pushes off the edge of the desk and starts to open drawers. “I have an emergency savings fund. We’ll get out of here tonight, just like we did all those years ago. You deserve happiness—and it's not with those men or behind a weapon.”
“You deserve happiness too, Mammy. Not living in fear of that scumbag. Don’t you want justice for what he did to you?”
Mammy unzips a thin leather pouch to leaf through paper notes, muttering to herself as she counts in a rush. I can tell there’s a mediocre sum of money in it. Nothing like the left-over cash stashed in the rental car outside.
“Of course, I do… but all of this is my fault for falling for the bad guy…” She looks up at me with sad eyes. “I was completely infatuated with Sean. He was confident, gorgeous—sexy. It started out as flirting and over time he’d hunt me out when I was supposed to be working. We’d hook up in one of the empty rooms in his family’s house. I knew it was a risk, but that added to the thrill of it. The hint of darkness in him excited me. I wish I’d known better…” She sighs. “But as the months went by, his charming mask slipped, and I saw the ugly monster living beneath his beautiful veneer. He started to show up at the cottage at stupid o’clock, wasted on a cocktail of drugs and booze. That's when he'd get angry, because you were there.”
Her narrow shoulders sag. “I begged him not to beat you, Sinéad. I lost count of the times I’d pleaded with him to stop calling in unannounced. I even threatened to leave the estate. But every time I suggested it, he reminded me of who he was and how we’d never get far. He used to laugh at how easy it would be to stage a motorcycle collision in the forest. That you’d lose your head in a tragic accident if I ever went up against him. That's the sort of people you’re involved with. They’ve no conscience.”
“Mammy.” I reach for her hand and feel the warmth of it down to my bones as her fingers grip onto me. “I don’t blame you for any of this. It’shisfault. He’s the monster.”
She frowns. “How did you feel when your husband murdered your father?”
“Frankie was hardly my father. That man was a heartless bully, Mammy. You know it, and so do I. When André blew his yacht to smithereens with him on it, I felt nothing. Zero. Absolutely void of anything that would remotely resemble sadness. If I’m honest, I was grateful to him for going through with it––for me.”
Serious eyes pin me to the seat. “You need to listen to me. And listen good, sweetheart. This isn’t a love story where the bad man turns good and saves you from his cutthroat family. If you’ve pissed off André Souza, he’ll reveal his true nature to you, Sinéad. They’re all forged from the fires of the same underworld. Come on…” Her hand falls to my shoulder. “I’ll grab a few supplies, and we’ll get as far away from Donegal as possible. It’s not just Sean we need to worry about now. It’s your husband.”
My pulse jumps. “It’s not André I’m worried about. He wouldn’t hurt me like that, Mammy.” Confidence makes my tone unintentionally sharp. “It’s his family who would come for me if I blew a hole in Sean Hennessy’s head. We’re going to Sicily.”
“Sicily?”
