Heart Lies & Alibis (11 page)

My mouth fell open in a 'what the hell' look of shock and for the first time I was speechless. Declan gripped my hands harder. He face turned gray as he spoke. "Reilly's dad, Paddy O'Bannion, was a major player in our neighborhood and so Reilly had no problem taking my dad out. Now I should make it clear, my father was a bastard but even he deserved better than to be gunned down in the street by some Irish mafia thug." I pulled my hands free, bringing them to my mouth. I didn't know if I wanted to hear anymore. I couldn't take a deep breath and I could not find the ability to speak.

Declan pressed on. "Reagan, I know this is a lot to hear all at once but let me finish. When the time came I had to testify at the trial, which I was more than happy to do. Like I said before, my dad was a genuine bastard but Reilly ambushed him one night outside a local pub, shot him like a dog in the street. He also beat the hell out of his step-mom like a coward but he was able to make it look like my dad had done it before Reilly shot him. One thing my dad would never have done was hit a woman but Paddy believed Reilly and tried protecting him during the investigation." Declan paused again, the memories and the pain etched deeply on his face. It was clear he had not fully healed from all he had been through and I wondered if he ever would.

He shook his head as if to push the memories away before he started with the story again. "Eventually Reilly was sentenced to twenty years in prison. Justice had been served as far as the law was concerned. But in my neighborhood being a snitch and testifying in court against someone from the neighborhood makes you worse than a cockroach. I was soon on everyone's shit list. And the consequences for testifying against Reilly came swift. Paddy put a hit on me right at the end of the trial. He offered $1million dollars to anyone who would bring me to him – dead or alive. He made it clear he preferred alive so he could have the pleasure of killing me himself but he would take me anyway he could get me." Declan laughed, the sound cold and harsh in the room. "I hadn't always made the best decisions while living in the neighborhood and my dad had pissed off more than one bad guy over the years so I knew I was screwed. There were just too many bad guys who knew me and were more than happy to try and collect that fee. I didn't know what I was going to do. Lucky for me I found out I had some other information the feds wanted about some of my father's business deals and associates so they offered to put me in WITSEC in order to hear it. I jumped at the offer. My handler thought I would make a good Irish bartender in my new life because it was something so completely different from my former life. I had always been good with mimicking accents and after a quick bartending course I was relocated to Houston as Declan O'Shea." He gave me a half smile and shrugged his shoulders.

Leaning forward towards me so he could take my hands again, Declan finished. "I didn't mean to lie to you Reagan. Please believe that if you believe anything I have said to you today. And I never meant to hurt you in all of this. But I have to protect myself, and those in my life from any possible danger, and I can only do that if I maintain my cover. And then tonight, seeing that look in your eyes, knowing I had caused you more pain after everything you have been through while also realizing I was falling for you, I knew I had no choice but to tell you the truth."

My head was spinning, both from the wonderful realization Declan felt about me the same way I felt about him and then because of everything else he had just told me. As a lawyer, I had heard some crazy stories over the years but this topped anything my clients had ever done.

. I needed to move. I needed to think. This was so much to absorb all at once. I continued to pace back and forth across my living room as questions ricocheted through my mind. Okay, so he lied but he had a good reason I reasoned to myself. Yes, that was true so I couldn't really hold it against him. But what the hell were we going to do now?

Declan was still standing by the chair I had bailed out of moments before and he looked so tired – of the lies he had to live and the running from bad people and every other thing he had been through in the last few years. I knew that feeling better than I wished I did. But I also knew in that moment it didn't matter what his past was or what his future held, I was going to be with him no matter what.

I rushed towards him and threw myself into his arms, crushing his mouth in a kiss which he returned while pulling me hard against him. The kiss ended but our embrace continued. We stayed that way for a long time, forehead to forehead wrapped in each other's arms, and I knew as he held me I had made the right decision. Whatever happened, this was where I belonged and wanted to be for the rest of my life.

I pulled back to look at him. Placing my hand aside his cheek I tilted his head until our eyes locked. "Thank you for telling me the truth Declan. But no more lies after this. Whatever has happened or will happen to you, we can deal with it better if we are straight up with each other." As I said the words a deep sting of guilt shot through my body but I pushed it away. I knew I was being hypocritical by demanding the truth from Declan when I was not giving the same to him. But my past needed to stay buried for a different reason. And if that took some lies to achieve, so be it. I knew I was being unfair and I only hoped if Declan ever discovered my deception, he would understand. To him I said "I won't tell anyone what you told me. I promise. Your secret is safe."

His body slumped in relief. "Thanks Reagan. And I'm glad I told you because I know I can trust you." He had returned to using his Irish brogue but his voice sounded distant. His face looked less hard and more relaxed than before after letting his secret free. I could only imagine telling me the truth had lifted some weight from his shoulders. I wondered if someday I would know the same relief. I pushed the thought away for now.

I ran my finger along his bottom lip, loving the way it curled slightly from my touch. "Although I may need you to bring out that Boston accent every so often. In private of course. I've never told anyone but next to a good Irish brogue, which you do perfectly I might add, I find a strong Boston accent sexy as hell. And we both know how I react to sexy things." I winked at him, a flirty smile turning the corner of my mouth up ever so slightly. It was time for this serious moment to be put aside for a little while.

He grinned and pulled me back into his arms. "Oh really naughty girl? Well, I think that could be arranged," he said in his best Boston delivery before his lips were on mine and the ghosts of the past floated away. At least for the night.

Chapter 8

A bright sunny day, a fresh cup of coffee, and the promise of seeing Declan in mere moments had me in a happy mood. I tapped my finger in tune to the country song that spilled from the speakers of my car as I drove along. It had been a few days since Declan had let me in on his secret past. We had talked more since then and had reached a mutual understanding about our future – no matter what might happen we were in this life together. I felt happier than I had in a long time as I zipped along the road and I had the convertible top down on the MINI letting the sun spill over me. My life felt like it was finally headed in the right direction.

I was on my way to meet Declan at his house and thinking about seeing him made me grin like an idiot. I turned onto his street and immediately came to a stop. Firetrucks and other emergency vehicles filled the road and a large crowd had gathered. I could see news trucks from at least three of the local stations parked at the end of the block just beyond the chaos. What the hell had happened? I pulled to the curb and parked. I got out and walked towards the large crowd being held behind some police tape by some Houston police officers.

As I approached I could see smoke swirling into the air – smoke that appeared to be coming from the exact location of Declan's house. My heart froze and I started to run. I reached the edge of the crowd, my panic pushing me way forward through the crowd until I could see what was going on. I was relieved when I realized it wasn't Declan's house on fire but the one immediately to the right. I saw someone being wheeled to an ambulance and I pushed past the cops and slipped under the tape as I ran to the stretcher. An officer caught me just as I came to a stop beside it.

"Ma'am. What are you doing? You can't be over here." She held my arm and looked angry I had pushed past their barricade.

"My boyfriend. I'm looking for him. That's his house over there and I thought this was him."

I was relieved and saddened when I saw the stretcher held Declan's elderly neighbor, Ms. Thelma. Her face was smudged with smoke and her eyes were closed. The medics were giving her oxygen and she appeared unconscious. Oh my god. What the hell happened here and where was Declan?

"That," I gestured to Declan's house, "is his home. But where is he?" I was frantic with worry and thankful when she finally released my arms.

She nodded in understanding and concern. "Okay Ma'am. Please remain calm. Let me see what I can find out. Just stay right here." She ordered before she turned and walked over to another group of officers.

I turned in a circle my panic growing as I kept scanning the area for any sign of Declan. A huge wave of relief flooded my body when I finally spotted him. I walked quickly over to him.

"Declan, oh my god, what happened?" I blurted as I approached.

He turned and gave me a half smile. He was standing just in jeans, without a shirt or shoes, but appeared fine otherwise. He gestured for me and I rushed into his arms. "I'm fine babe. I'm okay, really. I only wish I could say the same for Ms. Thelma's house." We looked toward the smoldering mess and watched as it continued to burn to the ground, despite the valiant efforts of the Houston Fire Department.

"Oh my god. What happened? Do you know? And why are you out here without shoes or anything?" He looked alright but I still wasn't sure. Smudges of smoke covered his bare chest and jeans, his eyes were rimmed in red and he kept coughing in between talking but waved off my concern.

"I was about to get in the shower when I smelled smoke. I looked outside and saw flames shooting through her kitchen window. I ran next door and straight inside without really thinking about what I was doing." Another bout of coughs forced him to pause in his story. He finally caught his breath again.

In spite of his arguments, I knew he should have medical attention right away. "Declan, you should go to the hospital and get checked out. You may have smoke inhalation or worse."

He shook his head. "No love, I'm fine. I just need a few more breaths of fresh air. It'll be okay. Anyway, let me tell you the rest of what happened. I ran inside and luckily I got to Ms. Thelma fast. She had fallen asleep on her sun porch, right off the kitchen so I picked her up and got her outside. I hope she's going to be okay." He added as we turned to see the ambulance drive away.

Declan and the African-American octogenarian had a special friendship. They spent many afternoons on her porch talking and sharing tea and cookies. He had just introduced me to her a few days before and she was the sweetest woman. I hoped she would be okay, too.

The fire commander came over to talk to Declan. As best as they could tell, Ms. Thelma had started a pan of cookies but somehow left a towel near the oven in such a way it caught on fire. The flames spread quickly through the kitchen. They said if Declan hadn't found her, Ms. Thelma would likely have not made it. Declan's face looked exceptionally grave as he listened to the man talk. He thanked them and we turned to walk back to his house when the news crews descended on us like locusts. I was pushed to the side as cameras and microphone demanded a statement from the local hero. Declan tried his best to get back to his house without saying a word, attempting to shield his face from the camera.

Later, we had returned to my house and were watching the evening newscast in my kitchen when images of Declan at the fire flashed across the screen. He stopped, his beer midway to his lips, and stared at the television. He turned up the sound and we watched in silence for a minute while the newscaster delivered the story.

"Local bartender Declan O'Shea became a hero today when he rescued his elderly neighbor from a mid-morning house fire. Thelma Jane Johnson, or Ms. Thelma as she is affectionately known to her neighbors, appears to have left a kitchen towel near the stove which somehow caught fire. An investigation into the exact cause of the blaze is ongoing. Ms. Thelma is in critical but stable condition at a local hospital. Our young hero refused comment but we can only hope there are more young people like him out there in the world ready to do the right thing when the situation presents itself. Great job Declan. Now on to weather with Mary Sue."

"Fuck." Was all Declan muttered before ripping his cell phone out and calling a number he only used in emergencies.

"Hayes, its Declan. We have a problem."

He listened to what I assumed were instructions for a meet. "I'll see you then." And slammed his phone down on the table. The anger he was feeling radiated off his body and I was getting worried.

I watched him from across the kitchen. "Declan, what is? What's wrong?"

"My face is all over the news Reagan. Not exactly what you want to have happen to you when you are part of WITSEC and trying to keep a low profile. Damn, how did I let this happen?" He slammed his fist against the table making me jump.

"Oh my god Declan. I didn't think about that." I knew he had put himself in danger to save Ms. Thelma but I had no idea what other consequences there would be from his morning heroics.