Luck of the Irish: Complete Edition (12 page)

“Let me buy you lunch. It’s our last day together and we’re having such a great time. I’d love the company.”

“You’re right, we are having fun, aren’t we?”

Although she agreed to that, she wasn’t sure about letting him pay for lunch.

“Let’s have lunch but it’s my treat! I don’t want to abuse your friendship.”

“That I can’t accept.”

“Let’s split the bill, then.”

He shook his head, “I pay for it or we won’t have lunch together.”

She closed her mouth without replying and studied his stern expression, realizing he wasn’t going to back down on that one. She knew it was best to let the matter slide. She shrugged and offered him a broad smile.

“Only because you insist.”

She paid for the sweater and they went out on the street again.

“Where would you like to go? Do you know any restaurants around here?”

“There are many. Which do you prefer - Italian, Indian, Thai, Chinese food?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I love all kinds of food.”

“You’re not helping. Oh, I know. There’s an Indian restaurant near here called Eastern Tandoori. Have you been there?”

“No, but I’d love to go. I’ve heard it’s awesome.”

“That’s set, then. Let’s go.”

Grabbing her hand again, he took her to the restaurant.

Keira discovered Paul was a very good company. They talked and laughed all through the meal. The noisy restaurant prevented her from hearing her cell phone ring. She ended up missing Declan’s calls, which went to voicemail.

When they finished the meal, she excused herself and went to the bathroom. She went through her things to find her lipstick, when she spotted her phone flashing inside her bag. She checked her voicemail and heard Declan’s message.

“Hi, baby. I miss you like hell every day but today it’s unbearable. I needed to talk to you. I did something stupid. It’s just my luck I got your voicemail every time I called,” he laughed but a shiver ran down her spine. “Catch you later. I hope.”

She pressed the icon on the screen to call him back but it went to voicemail. She hung up without leaving a message. When she got back to the table, Paul frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, Paul. I’m fine. I’ve just heard a message on my cell phone and it distracted me.”

“You look upset.”

“Maybe I am upset, too. I don’t know. I think I should head back to the hotel, though.”

“Drink up you glass of water, Keira. You’ll feel better.”

“Good idea.”

Paul signaled the waiter for the check.

“I’ll walk you to the hotel.”

“There’s no need for that. I don’t want to ruin the rest of your afternoon.”

“Nonsense. It’s almost five o’clock, there’s not much left of the afternoon, anyway,” he smiled and took out his credit card to pay the check. He handed it to the waiter.

“I hadn’t realized it was so late. Thank you for a lovely day, Paul. I had a great time. I just want to get to my room and relax a little. I’ll have a long day tomorrow.”

They left the restaurant and took a taxi back to the hotel, which wasn’t very far, but Keira felt too tired to walk there.

* * * *

A couple of hours earlier

Declan held his cell phone tighter against his ear, and would have smashed it to pieces on the floor in anger, if he didn’t need the bloody thing.
Useless piece of crap!

“Hi, this is Keira. I’m sorry…”

He hung up when he heard that for the umpteenth time. He didn’t want to leave another message. It was a little after two in the afternoon but the day had been so long and tiring, he was exhausted. And, impatient. Declan wanted to talk to her, not a machine.

When he arrived at the taxi stand, he got inside the car, gave the driver the address to his final destination, placing his hand on the older man’s shoulder.

“Hurry up, old chap, please.”

He leaned back against the smooth leather of the headrest and closed his eyes. He didn’t need to see where he was going because he knew the surrounding streets all too well. He also didn’t want to think about what he planned to do next, because he was afraid he’d lose heart.

I need to do this for Keira. If we have the slimmest chance of making things work out right for us, as a couple, I have do this. Regardless of how I feel about the old bastard.

He gritted his teeth and steeled himself, when he sensed the car slowing down. He paid the driver and, as he got out of the car, Declan took a deep breath. His heart was beating fast and he felt the adrenaline rushing through his veins. He knew he’d only manage to do what needed to be done, if he kept his cool.

Declan felt the bile rising inside him, threatening to suffocate him, as he approached the front door of the run-down little house and knocked on it. That door used to be a bright, deep shade of red. Now, it was a dull-looking dark green, with the paint peeling off in many places. He noticed he had been holding his breath only when the door opened halfway and a bald, elderly man appeared behind it.

“Hello, Da. Can I come in? We need to talk,” Declan felt both his throat and eyes burning from tension and suppressed anger.

He was so concentrated on keeping his reactions in check that he didn’t notice his father’s blank expression.

“Who are you, lad?” Peter Slane asked his youngest son, without a shred of recognition in his feeble voice.

Declan started picking up on the signs that something was very wrong in that picture. His father wasn’t angry at him, pretending he didn’t know his own son. He sounded sincere. That was bewildering and terrifying at the same time. He opened his mouth to identify himself when an older woman appeared behind his father.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Slane isn’t himself today. He shouldn’t have answered the door, but he was closer to it than me,” the woman gently put herself between Declan’s father and him, as if to protect the old man from any harm. “You know how these things go. He has his good days and his bad days. Today’s been a very bad one.”

Tell me about it. When will this woman stop talking?

“I heard you call him “Da”. Which one are you?”

“I’m Declan.”

“Oh, the young runaway,” she laughed and the sound of her genuine mirth took the sting off her remark. “I’m Rose Michaelson. I’m your father’s caregiver. Do come in, please.”

Declan was too stunned to say anything. He felt like he had landed himself in an episode of that old television show - Twilight Zone. Nothing made any sense at all as he followed the nice lady, in an impeccable white uniform, inside his childhood home.

That was the house where his worst memories had been born. The place where he would always go back to in his heart-stopping nightmares. The place he had run from a lifetime ago, and where he had returned to now seeking closure in hopes of having a chance at a better future.
Will I find what I came here for? Where’s that monster that has haunted me all these years?

* * * *

Paul got out of the taxi, carrying Keira’s bags, but managed to hold the door open for her. They entered the hotel lobby and Keira turned to get her things from him.

“Absolutely not. I’ll take these to your room.”

“Thank you, Paul. You don’t have to do that. There aren’t that many bags,” she said laughing.

Keira was starting to regret having drunk wine during lunch. Although she hadn’t drunk a lot, she slurred a little and her movements were slower than usual.

“I know, my dear. But, you look a tad tipsy. You don’t want to break those beautiful glasses you bought for your father, do you?”

As they walked to the elevator, she nodded a couple of times but everything spun around her.

“You’ve got a very good point, my friend.”

They entered the elevator and Keira felt dizzy again as it went up to her floor. She leaned her head against the mirrored wall and closed her eyes, trying to make the feeling go away. She hated being drunk. She had promised herself never to get drunk again.

“Are you all right, child? You look ashen,” asked an elderly woman who was standing beside her.

“She had a couple of glasses of wine at lunch, madam. She’ll be fine,” Paul answered on Keira’s behalf, putting his arm around her shoulders.

She was thankful for his support because she didn’t think she could moved her head without getting sick. She wasn’t in the mood for repeating her Dublin performance and throwing up in public, either. The elevator halted and the doors opened. Paul grabbed the shopping bags in one hand and Keira’s elbow with the other.

“Throw your arm around my neck.”

“I’m fine.”

Stepping away from him, she squared her shoulders and walked with much difficulty towards her room, without further help from Paul. She could see his smile out of the corner of her eyes.

I’m drunker than I thought. It looks more like a sneer than a smile
.

She shook her head to clear it, opened her purse, got the keycard, and slid it inside the lock. When the green light flashed on, Paul opened the door and entered before she could do anything to stop him.

Faint alarm bells pealed inside her head. She wouldn’t normally let a man she didn’t know get inside her room like that. Feeling uncomfortable, she left the door unlocked. Paul put the bags down on the table and turned to Keira, a smug grin curled his mouth up as he walked towards her.

Forcing her brain to snap out of its drunken state, she was able to assess her situation better. It wasn’t good. He looked threatening, blocking her way to the door, in case she needed to escape.

When he stood in front of her and framed her face in his sweaty hands, Keira tried to step back but he held her tight by her hair. Any sudden movement would hurt like hell, so she stayed put. But, those alarm bells were deafening by then, and her heart was beating in her throat. She was in panic.

“There’s no need to be afraid, Keira,” Paul whispered as his face came down towards hers. “Don’t fight me and you won’t get hurt.”

His words took some seconds to penetrate her hazy brain, but her senses had already rebelled against his touch. She felt sick, when his tongue invaded her mouth. It got worse when she realized his meaning, as his hands tore her blouse buttons apart in one single, violent movement. Keira shoved him away.

Caught by surprise, Paul moved backwards a couple of steps, but recovered fast and slapped her hard across the face. She stumbled, the sharp pain traveled through her body, shaking off the last effects of alcohol from her brain. She recovered her footing and sprinted towards the door. Paul grabbed her hair and pulled her back, smashing her against his hard body, his hand free hand squeezed her breast painfully. Her eyes filled with tears but she didn’t utter a sound, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had hurt her.

“I told you not to fight me. Now, I’ll have to hurt you,” he threatened as he threw her facedown on the carpeted floor. “I didn’t want to hurt you. You’ve got such a beautiful, smooth skin. I don’t have a choice now.”

Although the thick burgundy rug didn’t cushion her fall, it rendered her frantic attempts to get away from under Paul almost useless. He straddled her, twisting her arms behind her back and holding her slim writs in one hand. The more Keira fought him, the sharper the pain that traveled up her arms, but she couldn’t give up trying to escape his vicious assault. She doubled her efforts when he ripped her skirt off her. She bucked, heaving and whimpering but his strong legs kept her pinned to the floor.

“Get off of me!”

“Shut up or I’ll really have to hurt you,” he threatened, covering her mouth with his free hand.

Keira bit it down hard. Paul yelped and, for a second, she thought he would let go of her. The illusion ended quickly when she felt his leather belt around her neck. He used it to choke her and stop her frantic movements.

“No more dirty tricks. I’ll gladly watch the last breath leave your body after I’m done with you, if you don’t stop fighting me,” he whispered against her ear.

Nausea threatened to get the better of her. She fought to keep lunch down, because she was afraid of choking to death, if she threw up. Paul used his belt as a leash, tight around her neck. She didn’t dare move. She felt dizzy from lack of air and despair. She didn’t know what else to do to prevent the seemingly inevitable rape, when she felt his hardness against the small of her back.

“No, Paul, stop it. Please, stop this madness. I thought you were my friend,” she cried out, appealing to his conscience.

He didn’t seem to have any. She heard him opening a condom wrapper and laughing without any trace of humor.

“Friend? You are more stupid than you let on. You lied to me. You said you were traveling with friends just to keep me away, to play hard to get. I knew, all along, you wanted me to fuck you. Why are you fighting me now?”

Paul rambled on about how she had flirted with him, how she had lured him into her room. He was clearly out of his mind. As he grew angrier, he squeezed the belt tighter. He had released her wrists, and Keira plucked at the leather strip, gasping for air.