Authors: Eden Butler
“I’m twenty-two.”
Viv fills the third cup and nudges all three toward the edge of her desk. Vaughn grabs them, hands Mollie one.
“Tattoo?” Vaughn asks after taking a sip.
“Yep. On the left side. A snake.”
Vaughn catches Mollie’s gaze, notices that she blushes, moving her eyes down to focus on her cup.
“He his name is Jimmy,” Mollie offers and Viv looks at her, curious. “Tonight, at the pub, I met him. He was hitting on me. Vaughn ran him off because I was being stupid.”
“Mollie, you didn’t know.”
“I should have.” She takes another sip. “Daddy would kick my ass if he knew how irresponsible I’d been.”
Viv laughs, sits on top of her desk with her cup inches from her mouth. “That’s what daughters are supposed to do, honey. Give our daddies fits.”
They exchange a smile. Mollie looks to the door, possibly making sure it’s closed, then back to Viv. “Ms. Winchester…”
“Ha. Call her Viv. No one calls her Ms. Winchester but judges and her suck up assistant.”
Mollie grins, takes another sip of the bourbon before she continues. “I feel like I’m floating here, can you give me any information on this case? What is my dad doing for you?’
Viv eyes Mollie and Vaughn knows that look. His sister debating. “He’s going to testify. That’s all I can say.”
“Against the cartel or the club?”
Viv watches Mollie and Vaughn recognizes the cool way his sister’s eyes move off Mollie’s face, how she holds her cup to her bottom lip, barely touching her mouth. “I can’t…”
“He’s my father. He’s putting all of us in danger and you can’t tell me why?”
Viv sets her cup down, drums her fingernails on the desk before she stands in front of Mollie. “He doesn’t want me to. He made me promise not to tell you anything. I guess he figures the less you know, the safer you’ll be.”
“Stubborn ass.”
Vaughn can’t help but laugh at her. “That’s where you get it then?”
Mollie manages a smirk, but makes it vanish a second later. “Look who’s talking.”
When Viv clears her throat, obviously trying to put a damper on the mild flirting, Vaughn looks at her and tries to ignore yet another of her critical frowns.
“If you want to know details, you’ll have to ask Mojo.” Viv ignores the way Mollie shakes her head, how she slumps down on the sofa next to Vaughn, sighing.
“We can’t discuss that on the phone.”
Viv rounds to her desk and pulls out a credit card from her drawer before she slides it across the wood top. “Ask him yourself, take a road trip.” She nods to the red credit card on her desk. “Jackson’s not that far and I think it would be good for you to get out of town for a little bit.” She looks at Vaughn. “Both of you.”
Mollie begins to argue, she opens her mouth, frowning and Vaughn can’t help but wonder if it’s the idea of her being alone in a car with him that has her nervous. “What about my friends? They’ll ask.”
“You can’t tell them anything, Mollie. For their own good.”
Vaughn doesn’t like this, doesn’t want to leave Viv vulnerable. “I’m not going to leave you after you were attacked.”
Viv snorts. “You were gone from the time you were seventeen, little brother, and I managed to look after myself just fine. Besides, Sammy won’t let me out of his sight and the D.A. has put three uniforms on the house. I’ll be fine.” His sister hesitates. It’s only for a moment, a brief turn of her head that reminds Vaughn of her sneaking out of the house at seventeen and making a nine year-old Vaughn swear he wouldn’t rat her out. She’s got something on her mind and Vaughn doesn’t like how subtle she’s trying to be. “Listen, Mollie, you mind if I talk to my brother for a second? Family stuff that will only bore you.” Mollie sets down her cup and Viv walks her to the door. “Sammy will watch over you until Vaughn gets back. Don’t buy into his bull, though. I can pretty much guarantee he’s going to try to sell you on the many and varied benefits of dating an older man.” The women exchange a smile that is brief, but polite and Vaughn watches Viv’s back as she faces the closed door.
“Oh shit,” he says as she walks toward him and soundly whacks him on the back of the head. “Ow. What’s that for?”
“Are you out of your mind?”
When Viv nods toward the door, Vaughn sits back on the sofa, drawing his arm over his eyes. “Don’t start with me.”
“You’re fucking her.”
He jerks his arm away to glare at his sister. “No I’m not.”
Again, Viv’s eyes narrow and the way she watches his expression has Vaughn nervous. “Oh my God, you are.” She collapses next to him. “Vaughn, I swear…”
“Nothing has happened… not yet.” He slips her a sideways look. “How did you know?”
Viv’s expression softens. “I haven’t seen you look at a woman like that since you were nineteen, on leave and Caroline brought you an apple pie at that diner where she worked.”
A flash of Caroline comes to him then. She was so beautiful, so young with her dirty blonde hair pulled into a bun and her apron covered in flour and raspberry puree. When she smiled, her eyes lit like a flame the second she looked at him, Vaughn knew he was done for. But it changed. She changed and the worse things became, the longer he spent away from home and on duty, the more fragile the tether of their relationship became. He’d failed Caroline. He swore he wouldn’t fail Mollie. “It’s not like that.”
Viv nudges him, makes him scoot over so she can stretch her legs onto the sofa. “Then tell me what it’s like.”
He doesn’t want to have this conversation with Viv. There are some things that he doesn’t want his sister to know, but when he glances at her and sees the worry wrinkling her forehead, Vaughn knows her concern reaches further than the case. “I like her.”
“Well thank you, Captain Obvious, for that insight.”
Vaughn looks up at the ceiling, to the small cracks near the windows and the small spider web around the light fixture. Housekeeping has been slipping. He can almost hear Viv’s words before they leave her mouth. She’s going to lecture him. She’s going to tell him he isn’t being smart. Like he doesn’t know that. Like he needs Viv to state the obvious. Resigned, Vaughn moves his head, watching the way his sister moves the silver band around her finger. “What do you want me to do?”
Several emotions flit across her eyes; Vaughn knows them well. He sees her fear, the very real possibility that Vaughn letting his emotions guide him might threaten the case. But he also sees the small glimmer of hope Viv has held for him this past year. She wants him to heal. She wants him to be open to something he decided long ago would only hurt him. Instead of focusing on that, Viv deflects, pulls on her professional mask. “Mojo finds out you’re doing his daughter and he won’t like it.”
“I’m not—”
“But you want to. That much I can tell.” She rests next to him, putting her head on his shoulder like she did last year when their father’s death had left them both empty. “She’s a pretty girl. Not like I thought she’d be at all.”
“Why? Because Mojo’s a haggard bastard?”
“Oh, ho, little brother…” Viv sits up and Vaughn isn’t sure what to make of that wide grin on her face. “You’ve never met Mr. Nicky ‘Mojo’ Malone. It’s been a few months since I’ve seen him, but he’s not haggard at all.” Her breath releases in a tiny wisp that has Vaughn questioning who is being unprofessional here. “A little rough around the edges, but that man is something to behold. How do you think he got that nickname?” Vaughn shrugs. “Because, they say his dick is like magic.”
Vaughn wrinkles his nose. “Please tell me you’re not vying for conjugals with that old man.”
“Nah. Not allowed in Mississippi, besides, I’m just trying to work a case, but I can appreciate a handsome man when I see one.” Viv pulls Vaughn off of the sofa and picks up her bag on the way to the door. But before she opens it, she turns on him, that serious hint returning to her face. “Promise me.”
“Viv—”
“You have to promise you won’t touch her until this case is settled.” Viv pulls the bag onto her shoulder but doesn’t lose the stern frown working across her mouth. “I’m all for you finding someone again, but if you touch her now, she’ll mess with your head and I need you concentrating.”
It’s something he told Mollie that night she woke him from the nightmare. The sins he visited on his former wife weighed him down so that he would do anything to earn her forgiveness: touch her when he knew that was impossible, apologize, beg, kiss away all his failings. Vaughn knows his sister is right. He knows that this case would be over soon, that he needs to keep Mollie safe; the best way to do that is to not let her touch him, to keep himself on guard, alert. He can’t do that if he kisses her, if he touches her again like he had tonight.
When Viv’s eyes return small and expectant, Vaughn scrubs his face, giving up, yet again, on what he wants. “Fine. I won’t touch her.” He only prays he can keep that promise.
“So, let me get this right… Autumn’s dad raised Declan in Ireland and then they both came to Cavanagh and Declan starts dating Autumn without knowing that they’re related?” When Vaughn says it like that, even to Mollie’s ears, it sounds weird. Vaughn’s hands grip the steering wheel as Mississippi’s never-ending Interstate whips past them. Mollie lets that cringe on his face pass. She knew she’d have to clarify a few things or Vaughn would think her friends were something out of a bad, completely gross porno.
“Not related. Well. Not really. I guess
technically
they’re step-siblings. But that tie was severed when Declan’s mom died.” Vaughn’s nose wrinkles and Mollie sighs at his ridiculous, confused frown. “It’s not that complicated, really.” She clears her throat. “So Joe, Autumn’s dad, grew up in Ireland and got married young when the girl he was seeing tells him she’s pregnant.” Vaughn nods. “Then, when Declan is born two months too soon and comes out a fat, healthy baby boy, Joe knows he’s not the father.”
“So Declan’s mom lied?”
“Yep. But don’t ever,
ever
mention it to Declan. He’s fiercely protective of his mom.”
The frown deepens, but Vaughn nods his understanding. “Right.”
Rain starts to collect on the window and Mollie traces one long drip with her index finger, trying not to think about how close they are to the prison. Outside, Mississippi is a long row of tall pines and very little variation from the line of trees and the patches of filled-in pot holes.
“So?” Vaughn asks and Mollie rests her hand in her lap.
“So, Joe leaves Ireland all mad at the world and ends up in Cavanagh. He meets Autumn’s mom, Evelyn, and they get married and have Autumn.” Small flashes of Evelyn come back to Mollie; her bright eyes, the pale skin, the smile she always wore; it was welcoming, sweet, but Mollie remembers thinking of the sadness that never quite left her features. Her own mother was horrible. Evelyn made up for what she missed at home with hugs that were tight and words of encouragement Mollie knew weren’t spoken just to make her feel better. She blinks, looks back out at the wet window before she continues. “But when Autumn was a kid, Joe gets word that Moira, that’s Declan’s mom, anyway, Moira is dying and since he didn’t bother divorcing her, he’s legally responsible for her estate and all that stuff.”
Vaughn whistles and it is a low, amazed sound. “He didn’t divorce her?”
“Nope.”
“So, Autumn’s parents weren’t really married?”
Mollie gives Vaughn a sideway nod and his mouth drops a bit. “Apparently not.”
“Man, that’s messed up.”
“It is.” She grabs his arm, squeezing it as she remembers that time a few months back when Declan and Autumn fought because of more of Joe’s secrets. “But don’t mention that around Joe because it’s a touchy subject.”
“I think I’m gonna have to make a list.”
She waves her hand, as though the drama of her friends’ family history isn’t that hard to understand once you’ve spent time with them. “So, anyway, Evelyn finds out about the whole not having a divorce thing and gets highly pissed.”
“Naturally.”
“And she tells Joe to leave, go back to Ireland and be with his dying wife.”
“And he does?”
“He does.” Mollie thinks of Evelyn again, of the pain she must have felt at the loss of her family, of the man she loved and her chest twinges a bit. At the time, Mollie knew nothing about it. She and Autumn had been friends for a couple of years but the girls had not yet reached that “we must be with each other always” point in their friendships. If they felt that pain, both Autumn and Evelyn kept it to themselves. “By this time Declan’s almost legal, sixteen or seventeen, I think, and Joe steps in, takes care of him and Moira dies. Joe figures that Evelyn won’t have him back and so he stays with Declan for eight years.”
“Until they come here?”
“Yeah, I’m not real clear on that part.” That’s something that Autumn never really spoke about, neither had Declan. She didn’t know what happened during those eight years and never felt it was her place to ask. “I know Declan was in Utah for a while and then later, after he came here, Joe followed.”
“Why then? Why not before?”
“I guess because of the accident.” Vaughn frowns, confused. “Couple of years ago, Evelyn and Autumn get t-boned by this huge truck. Evelyn dies instantly and Autumn almost loses her leg. In fact, she almost died herself.” Mollie takes a breath, thinking about that time, how scared she was, how close they’d all came to losing Autumn. A weird, sudden shudder works up her spine. “It was bad.” Her voice is low, soft and Mollie’s eyes unfocus as she remembers Autumn in the hospital, bruises and scrapes covering her body and her leg rigged up and extended in the air. “It was really the worst thing we ever went through,” she says, a bit louder, voice clearer. “I guess Joe heard about Evelyn’s death and didn’t want Autumn to be without any family.”