Between Love and Loyalty Read online

  “Does he love you?”

  “I think so?”

  “So he hasn’t said it.”

  “No. He doesn’t talk about feelings. He’s an excellent listener though and he didn’t freak out when I told him I love him. That’s gotta count for something, right?”

  “I’m not going to be able to say anything to change your mind, so I won’t try. Are you happy?”

  “Yes. Extremely.”

  “A simple ‘yes’ would’ve been fine. You don’t need to rub it in. I assume you haven’t told your family yet.” Now Sarah leaned forward in her chair.

  “They know I’m with Connor. I told them if they couldn’t accept it, I wouldn’t be around.”

  Sarah let out a low whistle. “Ballsy.”

  Hearing Sarah’s compliment bolstered her ego. Sarah had been after her for years to fight her parents over their crazy expectations even though it might cost the outreach center funding. Now, she wished she’d done it earlier. It was freeing.

  But she didn’t think she would’ve done it if she didn’t have Connor at her back. She knew he’d support whatever decision she made because he didn’t want anything from her parents. He was exactly what she’d been looking for in a man.

  “When I did it, it wasn’t so much a ballsy move as a need for them to understand. Plus, I delivered the first blow via Aiden. I told him so he could carry the message to Mom. It might’ve been a little cowardly, but I choose to see it as a strategic move. You know how my mother gets when she’s blindsided.” She’d watched her mother lash out at everyone in her path when Aiden had gotten into trouble as a teenager. The woman could get downright vicious.

  “Since your parents didn’t flip out and lock you in a tower, congratulations are in order. Drinks on me tonight.” Sarah stood and reclaimed her position behind her desk.

  Fiona stood, itching to get back to teaching art to a group of eager kids. “Sounds great. Do you want to go right after we leave here, or do you want to go home and change first?”

  “Are you asking because you need to go check in with your new roomie?”

  “No, I’ll text him and let him know.” At the door, she turned back to Sarah. “Thanks for being such a great friend. I know you picked Connor because he looked temporary, and you easily could’ve tried to dissuade this relationship, but you’ve been great.”

  “I know I’m wonderful. Now if only the rest of the world would see that.”

  Fiona let out a laugh. Sarah was one of the most hardworking women she knew, but often overlooked. It was one of the many reasons why Fiona had gone to the Cavanagh Foundation for money for the center. Sarah had been trying to do it all with nearly nothing. She should be recognized for how wonderful she was.

  On her way to the classroom, Fiona shot off a text to Connor to let him know she was teaching this afternoon and then going out with Sarah.

  Immediately her phone buzzed with a response: Should I be jealous?

  Fiona snickered and answered, No, because I’ll be coming home to you.

  She imagined the smirk on his face and knew she’d made the right decision. She wanted to go home to Connor. She opened the classroom door and was greeted by questions and yells and friendly smiles.

  This was exactly the life she wanted.

  * * *

  Connor ate leftover pizza for dinner and scrolled through channels on the TV in the living room, which still felt weird given that he’d lived in the house for a couple of years and had never used the living room for anything other than a passageway. Max sat at his feet and chomped on the crust Connor tossed to him.

  In the two years he’d lived in the house, it had never felt empty, but without Fiona and her chatter, he was lonely. Her upbeat attitude balanced him out and he found himself looking forward to it.

  He should go to bed, but he wanted to be awake to say good night to her, even if she didn’t join him in bed right away. He’d cleared out the few boxes he’d had stored in the extra bedroom so she’d have a place to work. Her worktable should be the first thing they moved in. As he tried to imagine all of Fiona’s clutter in his house, he started to doze off.

  Connor had no idea how long he’d been out, but Max’s scampering across the floor woke him. Fiona struggled to drag a suitcase through the door. He jumped up to help her.

  When he easily picked it up with one hand and pulled her close with the other, she smiled. “I knew having a big, strong guy around would come in handy.”

  “I’m handy for a whole lot of things.”

  “Don’t I know it.” She leaned up and kissed him.

  He tasted alcohol on her tongue, but she wasn’t drunk. Her eyes were clear and she was happy. “Were you celebrating something tonight?”

  “Hmm-mmm.” Her eyes fluttered closed and she came closer for another kiss.

  “Are you going to tell me what?”

  “You.”

  “Me?”

  “We were celebrating me moving in with you. And me telling my parents they had no choice but to accept you. And me getting back to the center to work because the kids missed me.”

  “A lot of celebrating. Anything else?”

  A goofy grin crossed her face. “Nope.”

  “Ready for bed?”

  “Not really. But I’ll tuck you in if you want.”

  He turned and pulled her with him as he headed up the stairs. “Will you be naked when you tuck me in?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Asking you to move in was definitely an excellent decision.”

  Chapter 15

  Fiona had no idea what was going on with her body when she found herself wide awake again at six in the morning. The only time she voluntarily saw six was by staying up all night. Now she feared it would become habit. Connor tried to be quiet when he woke and got ready, but as soon as he left her side, her eyes opened. Even on Thanksgiving, he rose as if he needed to go to work.

  She tossed off the covers and got up. She’d do some work and then take a nap. After pulling on some sweatpants and a T-shirt, she settled in at Connor’s computer. She really needed to bring hers and set it up. His was like a dinosaur. She heard him downstairs and she figured he was finishing his first cup of coffee.

  While the computer booted up, she wrangled her hair into a knot on the top of her head. She opened the Internet and Connor’s email program stared at her. She never considered herself a truly nosy person, but when something’s right there… Most of the subject lines read from customers, but something near the bottom of the page caught her eye and she froze.

  Her nerves tingled and her stomach turned. She blinked her eyes. She must’ve imagined it. She scrolled down and read the subject line Re: The Cavanagh Conspiracy – Offer. She wanted to unsee it, but couldn’t. Her finger hovered over the mouse button.

  Connor had a right to privacy, but she also had a right to honesty. She clicked. She only read as far as the first line before nausea hit her. She stared at the single line through the blur of tears. Not Connor. He couldn’t be like the others.

  Dear Mr. Duffy,

  After careful consideration, and in light of recent events, we would like to acquire your book, THE CAVANAGH CONSPIRACY.

  A book. He’d written a book about her family.

  She heard his footsteps on the stairs, but she didn’t move.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” he said as he set a cup of coffee at her elbow and kissed the top of her head. “I’m surprised you’re awake.”

  She swiped at the tears rolling down her cheek.

  “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  She shot out of the chair, knocking the coffee over. She glanced at it running off the edge of the desk. “You happened, you lying piece of shit. How long did you plan to carry this out?”

  He grabbed a discarded towel from the floor and mopped at the coffee. “What are you talking about?”

  His eyes were wide with concern. At least that’s what it looked like. But now she couldn’t trust appearances.

&nbs
p; She jabbed her finger at the computer screen. “Your book. Someone wants to acquire it.”

  He froze and face fell. “It’s not what you think.”

  She shoved away from the desk. It felt like a hand reached into her chest and twisted her heart. “You didn’t write a book about my family in order to publish it?”

  “I… It—” He ran a hand over his mouth and looked at the floor.

  “That’s what I thought.” The tears were making a virtual river on her face, but she couldn’t stop them. They dripped onto her T-shirt leaving little wet splotches. “How could you? I trusted you. You made me feel like my last name didn’t matter.”

  “It doesn’t.” The words were barely a whisper. When his eyes met hers, they had regained their strength. “It mattered when we first met, but then I got to know you and it didn’t matter anymore.”

  “You’ll have to excuse me for not believing a single word coming from your mouth.” Her gaze darted around the room to identify how many articles of clothing she had lying around. She went into high speed and scooped them up and shoved them back into her suitcase.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m leaving you.” She closed the suitcase and zipped it. When she grabbed the handle to heft it, his hand closed over hers.

  “Don’t. Let me explain.”

  She hated that the warmth of his skin reached all the way into her soul and she yanked free of his grasp. “There is no explaining this. You’re just like everyone else in my life. Always looking for a way to use the Cavanagh name. Use me.”

  His face, so full of emotion, turned to stone. “Use you? You’ve used me for weeks. Just like the rest of the Cavanaghs.”

  Even shrouded in anger, she couldn’t resist asking. “What do you mean ‘just like the rest of the Cavanaghs’?”

  Connor’s eyes narrowed. “Writing a book isn’t my only secret. The real secret, the one behind the book is that I used to be friends with Aiden. The night of the hit-and-run? Not only was he with me, but he was also the one driving. Your father paid me to confess to the crime. So don’t you dare talk to me about using people. I only tried to give you whatever you needed.”

  She needed lies? Her mouth went dry and she almost gagged on the dryness of her throat. It couldn’t be true. He was making this up to hurt her. She clamped her lips shut to stop the trembling. An all-over shiver shook her body.

  He stepped closer, a mere breath away, and the heat radiating from his skin warmed her.

  His voice barely rose above a whisper as he said, “Please. I love you, Fiona. Don’t leave.”

  She released the suitcase as if it had shocked her. Her breath hitched. She stared at him. How she’d longed to hear those words from him. How she wanted to know how he felt. And now he soiled every emotion she’d had for him. Before she could think, her hand flew up and struck him across the face. “Fuck you. I’m done with liars.”

  Leaving the suitcase on the floor, she fled from the room, pausing only to grab her coat and purse by the front door. She rushed outside, the cold wind whipping at her wet cheeks causing them to sting as if she’d been slapped. Her palm held an identical burn.

  She sat in her car, but didn’t start it because her hands were trembling. Her crying had slowed to the annoying hiccups and she couldn’t catch her breath. She laid her forehead against the steering wheel and focused on nothing but breathing. Simple task. Suck in air slowly, then release. But her chest hurt and the air couldn’t force its way past the fist lodged in her throat.

  Fiona had no idea how long she sat in her car, praying Connor wouldn’t follow her out. She couldn’t handle another confrontation. Finally, she slid her arms into her coat and tugged at it until it was no longer bunched behind her back. She started the engine and turned the heat on high in an attempt to warm herself.

  The cold was so deep, she never thought she’d thaw again.

  * * *

  Connor stared at the empty doorway, unable to move. His heart raced and he couldn’t suck in adequate air.

  Fiona left him.

  His brain couldn’t quite process what that meant. Her suitcase sat at his feet. She would come back and he’d explain. He hadn’t told her about the book because then he would’ve had to tell her about him and Aiden. He’d already walked away from the book. It didn’t mean anything.

  How could she not know that?

  He turned to the computer sitting on the desk, the glowing light mocking him. He picked up the monitor and threw it against the wall. It shattered with a pop. Max whimpered and scurried in the opposite direction.

  His past was still fucking up his life. Max edged forward and nudged his hand. Connor sank to the floor and held his dog. He didn’t know how to fix this. He’d managed to do the one thing he swore he wouldn’t. He hurt Fiona the same way her family had.

  He stayed on the floor until his backside was numb. He finally pushed up and took Max to let him out. Then he grabbed a bottle of whiskey and sat on his couch to drink. The alcohol would do its job and numb everything.

  * * *

  Fiona drove with tears blinding her. She’d never felt so alone in her life. She needed answers, so she drove to her parents’ house in search of the truth. When she got there, she realized her family expected her for Thanksgiving dinner hours from now. She was dressed in the sweat pants and T-shirt she’d put on at Connor’s. Pushing through the front door, she called out, “Hello?”

  Her voice was rusty from crying and she swallowed hard to try to clear it.

  “Fiona, what are you doing here so early?” her mother asked and peered around. “I thought you were bringing a date.” Then she glanced down at Fiona’s attire. “What’s wrong?”

  Only after she took in the ratty clothes did her mother notice Fiona had been crying. Mother of the year she was not.

  “Where’s Dad?”

  “In his study. Dinner’s not for hours. You have plenty of time to change and get ready.”

  Not even a question about why she’d been crying. Fiona shook her head and walked to her father’s study. He looked up from the file he held. “Fiona, what’s happened? Why are you crying?”

  She inhaled a slow, deep breath, determined to keep her voice steady. “I left Connor. I think you were right about him. I found out this morning that he wrote a book about us, well, probably more about you.”

  Her father rose from behind his desk and approached her. “I’m sorry, Fiona, but I warned you.”

  She jerked back. Even as she stood there, clearly upset, he still felt the need to say I told you so. “But you never explained exactly why you needed to warn me. Did you, Dad? You neglected to tell me about your past with Connor.”

  The shiftiness in her father’s eyes appeared again. She could probably sell that small piece of information to the highest bidder. Brady Cavanagh’s eyes shift and his cheek twitches when he’s getting ready to lie.

  “I want the truth, Dad. Did you pay Connor to confess to a crime Aiden committed?”

  “Yes.” He said it without flinching, without remorse.

  “What kind of people are you?”

  Her father tucked his hands into the pockets of his very expensive suit pants. “We’re the kind of people who protect our children. I always taught you I would take care of you no matter what.”

  She wondered if he ever left the politician behind anymore. Everything coming from his mouth was a sound bite. “This wasn’t getting Aiden out of a ticket, Dad. He hit someone while driving drunk and took off. Isn’t part of your job as a parent to teach responsibility?”

  So much about her brother made sense now. He’d changed after his encounter with Connor. He strove for perfection in his life to make up for all the earlier mistakes.

  Dad went to the cabinet and poured himself a drink. “What would going to prison have done for Aiden? It would’ve ruined his life and any chance of a good career.”

  She flung her hands up at him. “What about Connor Duffy�
��s life and career? Who thought about him?”

  “He was well paid for what he did. It took care of his family in a way he couldn’t.” Her father stood there, swirling his drink like he was talking about the next move for his stock portfolio.

  He was so sure in his convictions that she knew nothing she said would change his mind. He didn’t believe he’d done anything wrong. For the first time, she saw her family in a clear light. Aiden suffered for the things their father had done on his behalf, and he never thought he’d get out from under it.

  Their father loved them; she believed that. But he was a master manipulator, always needing control. And dear old Mom, worried most about appearances and how their name was reflected in the public eye.

  They belonged on a nighttime soap.

  She loved them, but she couldn’t do this anymore. She needed to live an honest life and they couldn’t live without their lies.

  Any lingering doubt she’d held about her father’s culpability in the conspiracy and bribery charges faded. Her entire being felt empty. Everything she’d believed about her life was based on a foundation of quicksand.

  She didn’t even have words for them. She simply turned and walked out the door. By the time she got to the curb, her mother called from the house. “Fiona, where are you going? Will you be back?”

  Fiona didn’t respond. She wasn’t sure how to respond. Right now she didn’t want to have anything to do with her family and sharing a holiday meal was the furthest thing from her mind.

  Driving through the city, Fiona tried to ignore all the holiday traffic. Families traveling to see loved ones. Her body had finally settled into a strange kind of peace. It wasn’t relaxation as much as emptiness. She couldn’t deal with the frenzy of emotions, so she shut them down.

  After driving for over an hour, Fiona pointed her car in the direction of Sarah’s house. Her brain scrambled to remember what Sarah had said her plans were for Thanksgiving. She hadn’t planned to travel home for the holiday. Fiona knew that much.

  When she knocked on Sarah’s door, she prayed her friend was home. Sarah opened the door and the tears started again. How many tears could one human being produce?