Sparrow (17 page)

I stopped walking and stared down at my Keds. There was no more point in hiding what they’d pretty much already figured out. I was stupid to try and hide it from them in the first place.

“Don’t freak out,” I warned.

“The bastard.” Lucy strangled the donut box she carried and swung toward my bodyguard. I hoped she wouldn’t do something stupid like try and hurl a chocolate glazed at him. She would, too. If I was fire, she was an active volcano.

“It’s not Pops’s fault.”

“Fine,” Lucy backtracked. “No judging. Just tell us already.”

“I married Troy Brennan last week. He...he asked my father for my hand and Pops agreed. Probably because he didn’t have much choice. You know they say Troy is some kind of a hitman. A wealthy one, at that. And Pops works for him, so…” I trailed off.

Lucy and Daisy stared at me, bugged-eyed. The three of us stood in the middle of the crowds, with people pushing and shoving us from all directions.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It’s not really a piece of info you want to share with the world. And the last thing I wanted was to drag you into this mess.”

I thought Lucy was going to faint, but Daisy gathered her senses quickly. “But we grew up with Troy Brennan. He never looked at you that way. Never even tried to slip his tip in.”

I frowned, annoyed as usual at the way my childhood friend spoke about the opposite sex. Well, about sex in general. “You can like someone without sleeping with them, you know. It’s not like he screwed everyone in South Boston.”

Daisy fanned herself. “Bitch, please. With the amount of pussy your husband’s dick has trekked through, I’m surprised it doesn’t have its own National Geographic show. He is so...mature and old and stuff. Your husband, that is, not his dick.” She licked her lips, thinking. “Wait. Birdie, this makes you rich!”

Rubbing my face, I checked to make sure Connor wasn’t close enough to have heard her. Daisy was too much of a free spirit to offer comfort. She took everything in stride, even when the circumstances demanded some serious running. I turned from her to my best friend. “Lucy, please say something.”

Lucy looked away from me, gripping the edge of a stand and nearly toppling a display of sand art. Her eyes glinted with sadness, the tightly bunched muscles in her neck telling me the lump in her throat was as big as mine.

I threw my hot chocolate in the trash and grabbed her hand, desperate for her touch. It was silly, but I was feeling all sorts of guilty for not inviting them to my fake wedding, now that I had told them about it.

“Birdie, honey, he is...you know that people say he killed a man?” she mumbled.

I nodded. “Yeah, I know, but rumors run marathons in small neighborhoods.”

“It may not be what you want to hear, but you should be scared,” Lucy said. “Terrified, to be exact.”

“You would think so.” I managed to muster a faint smile. “But he won’t hurt me. I’ve gotten to know him a little. He’s not like that.”

“Okay, so he’s not going to hurt you,” Daisy said, “but the rest doesn’t make any sense. How does he go from unattainable lady killer to someone who forces a girl he doesn’t even know to marry him?”

I had the same nagging question in my mind.

“No offence, Birdie,” Daisy continued, “but Troy Brennan has one of the hottest asses in Boston. They say he’s a beast in bed, and he’s done well for himself financially. Why would he pick you? He could have anyone he wants.”

“Thanks.” Leave it to a friend to tell you the truth.

“I still say you should be scared,” Lucy argued.

My head felt like it was ten times heavier than it was when I first arrived. It was bad enough to deal with what Troy stirred in my head, what he kindled in my body. And now the Paddy stuff was out in the open. I had so many fires to put out, it felt like my whole life had burst into disastrous flames.

“Look, he is not that bad.” I exhaled, walking again to put some distance between us and Connor. I didn’t want him to listen to this conversation. “And he’s the owner of Rouge Bis. I’m going to start working there next Monday. I’m sure it will all be okay.”

It was anything but.

“Does he not trust you? Is that why you have a bodyguard?” Lucy squinted over her shoulder at Connor.

I shook my head. “I’m allowed to do whatever I want. I think the guard is to keep me safe from all the
nice
friends he’s collected over the years.” I offered a sad smile.

“Protecting you? That’s actually kind of hot,” Daisy mused. “How’s he in the sack, by the way?”

I sometimes wondered if she knew life wasn’t some big, ongoing sexual joke.

“Daisy!” Lucy swatted her shoulder. “Birdie isn’t going to sleep with him just because her poor excuse of a father sold her to him.”

I felt my skin heat again as I buried my lower face inside my jacket. I enjoyed the night of our date more than I was willing to admit.

Lucy turned to me, her face twisting with dismay. “Jesus Christ. Don’t tell me—”

“Of course I didn’t sleep with him,” I said, cutting her off.

“Not that it would be the worst thing in the world,” Daisy interjected. “A few of my friends rolled between his sheets. Rumor is The Fixer can fix you up with multiple orgasms and is into some pretty kinky shit.” She stopped, picking up a bottle of perfume and examining it with interest, popping her pink gum loudly.

She was completely oblivious to the fact Lucy and I wanted to get rid of Connor. Lucy took the bottle from her and grabbed her arm, tugging her along.

“Geez, what’s the rush?” Daisy flipped back her glossy hair.

“So, did he make you sign a prenup, or what?” Lucy asked, always the practical one.

I moved my jaw back and forth. I hadn’t considered it before. “No,” I said, as surprised as Lucy was to hear my answer.

“Really?” Daisy looked intrigued.

Lucy glanced behind us and dropped her voice down when she saw Connor was just a few feet away. “I’m pretty sure the guy’s loaded. Heard he’s living in Back Bay.”

“He is,” I confirmed, “and he drives a Maserati.”

Daisy nodded. “I’ll bet his dad left him a couple of trust funds and a ton of real estate before he was murdered and dumped in the woods. I dunno, Birdie. If he didn’t make you sign a prenup, looks like he’s planning to keep ya.”

I opened my mouth, just about to answer, when I felt a strong hand grip my elbow and pull me out of the throng.

Lucy’s spine straightened, and she spun in my direction, knocking into a woman pushing a stroller. A diaper bag spilled at her feet.

I turned to face the person the hand belonged to.
Connor.

He’d never touched me before. His face was expressionless, and a cell phone was suddenly glued to his ear. He was nodding and kept repeating my name.
Shit
. I’d talked about Troy and now I was going to pay for it. I knew my mouth was going to get me into trouble the minute he told me he’d marry me.

Stupid you, Sparrow. Why couldn’t you just accept your fate?

“What’s your problem?” I asked him, realizing it was one of the rare times we’d spoken.

I was scared and angry, and the last thing I wanted was to involve Daisy and Lucy after my claims about Troy not being so bad. Connor worked for Troy, and he’d grabbed me like I was a teen caught sneaking out of her room at night.

“Should I call nine one one?” Lucy asked. Daisy’s mouth rounded in an O.

“No, it’s fine. I just need to go. I’ll text you later.”

I let Connor lead me away, giving them a wave and forcing a smile, but as soon as I was sure we were out of sight, I jerked hard on my arm.

Connor grunted and held tight, hustling me, with a little force and a lot of determination, through the shoppers and sightseers. People were looking, and I felt self-conscious to the point of horror. I couldn’t let him drag me around like a rag doll without him even explaining where we were going.

“Let go of me,” I hissed, trying to wriggle free.

Connor stared ahead and continued walking. As if I was a piece of furniture he had to move from one point to the other. “Yes, boss,” he barked into his cell, pacing faster, “she’ll be there before takeoff.”

“Get your hands off of me. I mean it,” I demanded.

Wait,
takeoff?

What the hell did Troy have in store for me now? I was really in no mood to find out. I was done playing nice with Troy’s crew.

I jerked my arm hard enough to catch Connor off guard and ran in the opposite direction of both him and my friends. Since running was my passion and Connor was about as wide as he was tall, outrunning him in the crowd was easier than I hoped. I was half way to the street I wanted before I twisted my head to see if he was behind me.

I saw his pink, furious face as he tried to catch up. I picked up my pace, worried about what Lucy and Daisy might be thinking after that little scene. They probably thought I was going to get killed or something. And maybe they weren’t so wrong.

I cut into a side street, where the pavement narrowed and bumped into a wide shoulder full force. The impact propelled me backward, but a warm hand steadied me, righting me before I hit the ground.

Brock.

I shook my arm free of him. “He sent you, too?” I seethed, feeling my body temperature rising.
Goddammit, Troy Brennan.

“What?” Brock looked puzzled. “Sparrow, I’m here to do some shopping with my son. Kindergarten is only half-day and I decided to take the afternoon off. No one sent me. Is something wrong?”

I glanced over my shoulder. Connor was getting close, waving his fist in the air like he was about to break me to pieces. And Sam was right there as well, clutching his father’s palm and looking at me like I’d gone completely mad.

“Oh, hi.” I looked down at him and forced a reassuring smile.

“Hi.” He nuzzled into his dad’s pants leg shyly.

“Okay, gotta run.” I was anxious to resume my escape. My heart slammed against my chest when Brock grasped my shoulder.

“Don’t run,” he said. “Connor is an idiot, but he’s not going to hurt you, even if he certainly looks like he’d like to. I know why he’s after you, and I can promise you, it’s not something bad. Do you trust me?”

His hand was still on my shoulder. I blinked. Did I trust him? Why would I? I don’t know anything about this man, other than the fact that he looked like the closest thing to Adonis.

“Umm, no,” I answered honestly.

He laughed, the kind of laughter that you felt dancing in the pit of your stomach, even though you weren’t the one who laughed. I eased, my muscles relaxing.

“That’s right,” he said, looking at his son. “Never trust strangers, Sam.” He patted Sam’s brown hair, and then he pulled me into a sudden hug.

I froze, but this wasn’t an intimate embrace.

“Listen,” he whispered, his mouth close to my ear. “You’re starting a new chapter in your life. I promise you, I’ll do everything I can to make you feel at home at Rouge Bis. Go back with Connor. Go to Troy, but make sure not to get too involved with him. Lay low, play your part, and I’ll make it worth your while. Deal?”

I felt the tears I’d held inside for so long threaten to spill, but raised my chin. “You’re doing it again. Being nice to me. You’re
his
friend.”

“No, Sparrow, I’m not.” His voice was even lower now, almost inaudible. “I’m on
his
payroll. That’s all.”

When he released me, Connor was already too close for me to run again.

Brock’s expression changed to unruffled, and he gave me a light shove in Connor’s direction. “I think you’ve lost something. Here, she is.”

I stumbled straight into Connor’s arms.

Flushed, confused, and most of all, angry as hell, my bodyguard scanned Brock up and down. “She ran,” he spat.

“That tends to happen when people have legs.” Brock’s tone was clipped. Tough.
Different
. Like Troy. “Don’t let it happen again.”

He turned around and walked away, holding Sam’s little hand without sparing me a second glance. I knew right there that Brock was playing a game in front of his boss and his crew.

I needed to start doing the same, if I was going to survive Troy Brennan.

“You stupid little banshee,” Connor growled. He was panting like he had just completed a Tour de France.

This time he grabbed me harder by the arm, He’d been caught losing me, and it looked like his fury had boiled to a point he couldn’t control. He shook me aggressively just for kicks, then shook me more as he led me God knows where.

I was almost relieved when I spotted the car he’d driven me here in.
Almost.
I ducked my head and dodged a bruise as he threw me into the passenger seat like I was his duffel bag.

By the time, I righted myself, he was already behind the wheel and starting the engine. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I demanded.

He just pumped the gas in response, to spite me.

"Where are you taking me?" I tried again.

"Back home," he answered. "You need to pack. You're leaving for Miami."

My throat tightened. "Miami? Why? When? For how long?"

Connor kept on staring at the road. He looked fed up, gripping the steering wheel like he wished it was my neck. "Ask your husband," he said through clenched teeth.

I decided to do just that. I sent a quick text to Daisy and Lucy, claiming there’d been an emergency at Rouge Bis and that I was needed in the kitchen. Hopefully that would reassure them for now. Then I turned my attention to dialing Troy.

I realized that I didn't even have my husband's phone number. Up until now, I hadn't really thought about it. The idea of trying to reach him was so absurd, it never occurred to me that I might need to ask him something at some point. I looked outside the window, then at Connor, then out again. Was I really going to ask my husband's employee for his phone number?

Then again, I had too many questions: Why Miami? Why now? Was he sending me alone or coming with?
Plane!
I was going to fly on a plane! How long was the flight? How long were we going to stay? Was this our honeymoon?

That one stopped me cold.

So what if Brock told me it was safe. Tons of things, bad things, could happen to me.