Kane's Ransom: A BWWM Mafia Romance Novel (7 page)

He might have pushed too hard, he realized almost as soon as the words left his mouth. Alicia choked, leaning forward and covering her mouth as the tears dropped down onto the cup and saucer in her lap. Feeling uncomfortable but also partly responsible, Killian scooted a little closer, reaching out and patting her gently on the shoulder.

"He called me yesterday," she choked out between sobs. "He sounded like he was in trouble, but he hung up before he could tell me what was happening. I waited all afternoon for him to call back, but he didn't."

"I'm sure that he's not-" Killian started, but she shook her head, more tears falling down her cheeks.

"And then, yesterday, after midnight, I got another call," she sobbed out, looking up at him through a haze of tears. "It wasn't Marcus - it was someone else, some voice that I didn't know. The voice said that Marcus was in some sort of trouble, and that if I wanted to see him alive again, I'd have to-"

She couldn't finish the sentence, instead collapsing the rest of the way into a sobbing heap. She scooted over from the chair beside the couch to sit on the couch, leaning up against Killian as she wept openly.

For a moment, Killian froze, staring with wide eyes at this sobbing young woman. Of all the situations he'd imagined finding himself in with Alicia, this was most definitely not one of them! But he awkwardly put his arms around her, and she seemed to find some comfort from his hug as she kept on sobbing.

"They said, they said that I needed to pay them a hundred thousand dollars," the young woman finally managed to choke out, the words sounding muffled from her spot in Killian's arms. "And if I don't pay, they're going to kill him! They'll kill my brother!"

And then the sobs took over, and she couldn't speak again, just crying into Killian's chest and soaking his shirt with her tears.

Wow. Killian stared blankly over Alicia's head for a moment, thinking about what she'd just told him. This was definitely more than he'd expected. He felt like he could perhaps help with some minor crises, but a kidnapping? This seemed like too much, like he was in far over his head.

But on the other hand...

On the other hand, he admitted reluctantly to himself, this wasn't as crazy as he could have imagined. And even now, he could think of a couple people from his past that, although he'd hoped to never have to speak to them again in his lifetime, might be able to give him some direction on finding this poor young woman's brother.

What was he doing? He didn't want to get involved in any of this, he reminded himself. He'd intended to listen to Alicia's story, nod a couple times in sympathy, and then admit that there was nothing he could do, and leave.

But now, he couldn't bring himself to even contemplate standing up and just walking away, after this earth-shattering secret that Alicia had just revealed to him.

She must truly feel desperate, he realized a moment later as he patted her gently on the back. She continued to sob, but he felt as though his comforting might be helping, so he didn't stop, instead carefully rubbing his hand up and down on her shoulder without straying into any delicate areas. He could feel her ribs beneath her blouse, could feel her chest expanding and shrinking with each sobbing breath.

Looking around at the little house, cheap but clean, he knew immediately that she couldn't possibly get her hands on a hundred thousand dollars. It had to be as out of reach for her as if her brother's kidnapper had asked for the moon in the sky. She must have been feeling absolutely hopeless and helpless all day, he imagined. He couldn't believe that she'd even been able to keep herself together enough to make it through her shift at the diner without having an utter meltdown.

"There, there," he murmured as she pressed her head into his neck and shoulder, still dripping tears onto his shirt. He tried to ignore the faint but enticing little whiff of her smell that he caught from the top of her head, feminine but musky and suggestive. Keep your mind out of the gutter, he ordered himself harshly. This woman needs help and comforting, not any sort of advances.

Finally, Alicia pulled back, straightening up and blinking reddened eyes. "I think the water's boiling in the kitchen," she commented suddenly, jumping up from the couch as if desperate to escape. She dropped her cup on the coffee table alongside Killian's and hurried out of the room, presumably to go collect the kettle from the kitchen.

Left alone in the living room, Killian sighed, noting the large wet patch on his shirt. He tried to brush it out a little, but gave up. Besides, the tears would dry.

But what was he going to do about Alicia and her confession, about her problem? He could imagine a way that he might be able to help, but it involved revealing far more about his past to her than he had ever imagined, and he would almost certainly put her in a lot more risk than she was in now.

But if he did nothing, on the other hand, her brother would almost certainly die.

Killian groaned, leaning back a little on the couch and running his hand through his hair, staring up at the textured and slightly dingy ceiling of the living room.

What in the world was he going to do?

Chapter eight

In the kitchen, Alicia leaned on the counter, using both hands to prop herself up. Looking down at the steaming, whistling kettle on the stove in front of her, she took slow, deep breaths, trying to calm herself down.

What had happened? She'd just intended to tell Killian the basic facts, see if he could maybe help her out somehow, point her in the right direction, or even just listen and commiserate with her. She'd never intended to have a full breakdown, to burst into tears and sob into his chest! She hadn't meant to tell him everything, to open up so deeply to a man who might as well be a complete stranger!

Still, she did have to admit that she felt a lot better now, after telling another soul about her problem. She doubted that Killian would truly be able to help at all, but she was thankful that he'd been at least willing to listen to her problem, to wrap his big arms around her and hold her, comfort her.

She could still catch little whiffs of his scent on her, she realized as she picked up the kettle from the stove. She hadn't paid much attention to how he smelled when she had her face buried in his chest, but she now realized that she could still catch a faint hint of his scent. He smelled clean, like fresh soap. It was a comforting sort of smell.

Carefully holding the kettle out away from her so she wouldn't accidentally burn herself by brushing against the hot sides, she headed back out to the living room. Somehow, she'd half imagined that Killian would have vanished, gone running away as soon as she turned her back. But no, he still sat there, looking up at her with a slightly curious expression dancing around the corners of his face.

"Tea's ready," Alicia announced, hoping that this normal little gesture of pouring tea might help distract from the enormity of the situation she'd just revealed to the man.

Obligingly, Killian picked up his cup and held it out for her to fill. She did so, passing it back, and then attended to her own cup.

For a few moments, as the tea bags steeped, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched out, but Alicia didn't know what to say. What could she say to break this heaviness, this oppressive blanket that had settled over them both?

Finally, after taking a sip of the hot tea, Alicia felt that she couldn't wait any longer to speak. "I thought about going to the police about this, but..." she started, lapsing off halfway through the sentence.

Already, though, she saw Killian shaking his head. "Not a good idea," he commented. "Sometimes these mob outfits have a mole inside the cops, sometimes they don't, but it's not worth the risk, not with your brother's life. And besides, they can't do nearly as much as most people think."

Alicia nodded; she'd already guessed as much. "It sounds like you know a little about this," she tried next, reflecting on how quickly he'd spoken out against going to the police. Had he been speaking from some sort of experience?

Killian just leaned back on the old couch, taking another sip of his tea. She realized quickly that she wouldn't be able to trap him with a conversational gambit. Killian had his guard up, even though he looked only slightly ill at ease sitting on her couch.

"Besides," Alicia let herself continue, as if speaking mostly to herself, "the police probably wouldn't listen to a woman like me. Woman of color, lower class - doesn't exactly inspire launching a full investigation, does it?"

"Maybe if you gave them a pretty smile and brought them some pie from the diner, they might listen," Killian fired back, and a brief little smile danced around his lips. "But it probably won't help out much in the end."

For a second, Alicia blinked. Was the man flirting with her? She'd tried to flirt with him a couple of times back when he first started coming to the diner, but he'd never seemed to return her advances. She'd given up on it, assuming that maybe he had a dead wife or something - it would explain his reticence, as well as his unwillingness to talk about the past, even though he didn't wear a wedding ring.

"So what should I do, then?" she asked, deciding to ignore that comment about the pretty smile for the moment. "I mean, like I said, I don't have much in the way of money."

Killian sighed, leaning forward and setting his cup down carefully on the coffee table in front of his long legs. "It seems a bit suspicious," he finally commented, crossing his hands across his chest and frowning.

"What does?"

He gestured around him. "I can see that you don't have that kind of money," he pointed out. Alicia didn't hear any accusation or disrespect in the comment, but she still bristled a little at the slight, imaginary or not. But Killian, either not noticing or ignoring it, kept on talking. "So why would the Mob demand so much money, knowing that you can't pay up?"

After a second, Alicia shook her head, sighing. "I don't know. Why?"

"For two reasons, as far as I can see," he replied. "First, they might believe that you do have that kind of money, but just can't show it. You got it from some sort of illegal activity that Marcus, your brother, is involved in. They want a cut, and they want to make it clear that they know about anything you're trying to keep secret."

"But I'm not part of anything!" Alicia insisted immediately, flopping her hands on the arms of her chair hopelessly. "I mean, look at my life! I wouldn't be working as a waitress at some middle of nowhere diner if I actually had money!"

"And that's what brings me to the second reason," Killian continued, his brilliant blue eyes looking suddenly sorrowful. "But it's not a nice thought."

"What is it?"

He sighed. "You might not like hearing it."

"I'd rather hear it than not, though," Alicia demanded, leaning forward. "Please, Killian. Please tell me."

He shook his head a little, but finally lifted his eyes back up to meet hers. "The other option," he revealed, "is that they never mean to release your brother at all."

"Why?" Alicia gasped, feeling her stomach churning, doing a flip. "Why would they go to the trouble of holding him ransom?"

"They might want to send a message," Killian explained. His hands twitched, as if he was considering reaching out and holding her hands in his own to provide some small measure of comfort, but he didn't move them off of his lap. "If your brother was messed up in something bad, something that the Mob didn't like, they might want to get as much news coverage as they can. A ransom attracts more reporters, makes a more lasting story - and it also sends a message to anyone else who might have been tied up in whatever this whole risky business is."

"What message?" Alicia asked, not sure that she wanted to hear the answer.

"That if they want to keep on living, if they want their business to not fall apart, they'd better be willing to pay whatever fees the Mob demands, or else." Killian shook his head. "It's a nasty tactic, but it gets results."

There it was again, Alicia thought. That little comment that suggested that this man knew a lot more about what was happening to her brother than he wanted to let on or reveal. She knew that, if she tried to dig out that backstory, he'd immediately clam up and refuse to share anything more, but she could still catch tantalizing hints every now and then of something dark in his past.