Kiss of Fire (St. James Family) (34 page)

“
Of course,” Toni said, sadly. “He's got me coming and going, I'm so mixed up over him.”

“
He was pretty cute. For an Irishman. I was always partial to Italians, myself.”

“
Pretty cute?” Toni shook her head, not impressed with her cousin's assessment. “He's the sexiest thing on two legs. And he fucks like his life depends on it.”

“
Ah,” Vivica said, staring into the dancing flame. “One of those.”

“
Yup. He's basically the best and the worst thing ever.” Toni sighed, dragging a hand through her sex-mussed hair. “What would you do?”

“
Oh for fuck's sake, don't ask me!” Vivica said, eyes wide. “I'm an expert on running when things get messy.”

“
Well, we're both running. And we both ended up here,” Toni said.

“
But your man came after you,” Vivica said.

“
Because someone told him where to look,” Toni said, knowing that someone was probably Christophe. “Does your man know where to look?”

“
No.”

“
If he did, I'm sure he'd be banging down Granny's door, just as fast.” Toni leaned forward, to pat her leg, but Vivica didn't reply, just shrugged again. “We St. James women are, apparently, very hard to resist.”

“
Easy to bed, hard to wed,” Vivica said, and surprised Toni with a laugh.

“
That should be our motto,” Toni said, letting the giggles overtake her. Vivica shushed her, and that just kept her going. When the hushed amusement died down, the heavy dread returned to her stomach and Toni sighed. She still saw O'Donovan's face in her mind, looking like she'd ripped his heart out. They were both in pain, and Toni took it all inside of herself. The pain was going to kill her slowly, she realized.

“
So what are you going to do?” Vivica asked.

“
Cry myself to sleep,” Toni said. “A lot.”

“
What the fuck else is new?” Vivica said, popping another handful of cereal in her mouth.

***

O'Donovan forced himself to move. To get up and take a shower. To get dressed. All night, he lay flat on his back on the hard motel bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking of her. Debating whether or not he should drive to her grandmother's house and say whatever he had to say to get her back. Every time he told himself to get his ass up and go, he remembered her face as she told him he couldn't fix it. How it felt like every word she spoke stabbed him through the heart. He didn't know if he could take anymore rejection that night. So he didn't get up. He didn't move until the sun came up.

As the heat rose outside, he tossed his few belongings into his leather duffle bag. Finding her panties on the floor beside the bed did little to brighten his mood. He just stood there, staring down at them, his head throbbing. Then, before he could think about it another second, he grabbed them and tossed them in his bag. Without another look at the motel room, he slammed the door shut behind him. After checking out, he got in the rental car and drove to the airport. He flew back to New York, and was back to work the next day like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't had his heart ripped out of his chest. The open wound was still oozing, but no one else could see it.

He'd never had his heart broken before, he realized. What happened with Gwen had hurt his pride, but not his soul. Toni had him, body and soul, but she didn't want him. She'd made it clear there was nothing that could be done. He had no one to blame but himself. The days passed, but the pain didn't. He would find himself in Manhattan on his days off, doing drive-bys around Lincoln Center, looking. He never saw her, but that didn't stop him from looking. He didn't call her, figuring she wouldn't answer anyway. He felt like he was living in limbo, and it was a shitty place to be.

He did see Brigid though, a week after he returned from New Orleans, in the supermarket. She was in the fruit aisle, staring at the Granny Smith apples like she was waiting for one of them to talk to her. He stopped still when he turned into the aisle, like an idiot, and she glanced up and saw him. He was going to have to get used to having women hate him. The look on her face left no room for doubt. Her eyes went completely cold and her mouth set in a firm line.

“Brigid—” he began, but she was having none of it. She turned and hurried out of the aisle, not giving him another look. He scrubbed his hands across his face, cursing himself for the millionth time.

Fucking stupid jack-ass son of a bitch idiot
-

“
Did you go back to her?” Brigid's voice cut through his self-flagellation. She'd snuck up behind him, her face still hard. He turned to face her, but she looked away. “That Toni girl. Did you go back to her?” she repeated, her eyes everywhere but on his. O'Donovan didn't speak, having the feeling that it would be better if he didn't. “Did you go groveling back?” O'Donovan didn't answer again, knowing that she didn't really want to know the answer. “Tell me. I can take it.”

“
I groveled,” he said, despite the pain that was flaring up when he thought about it. “But it didn't do much good.”

“
Good. Good for her.” She finally lifted her eyes to meet his. “Just tell me one thing. Did you ever like me? I mean, at all?”

“
I did. I do.”

“
But it wasn't enough, right? I wasn't good enough?” She sniffed, swiping the back of her hand across her nose.

“
I'm sorry, Brigid,” he said, because it seemed like the only thing he could say that made any sense. “Believe me.”

“
I gotta go,” she said with a small shrug. Turning on her heel, she hurried off, not giving him another look. He rolled his shoulders, feeling like shit. But he also felt relieved, oddly enough. It was over with Brigid, officially. It made him even more sure about Toni. He'd fucked up every chance he'd had at his fantasy. He'd fucked up his chance at his suburban life, at his meatloaf waiting for him on the table, at his 2.5 kids running around in the yard. And he didn't give a shit. He knew now that he'd rather have Toni than anything else.  A wave of longing came over him, and he shook it off, heading for the beer. Funny that he'd seen Brigid, he thought, since he had every intention of paying another one of his exes a visit that night.

Gwen was surprised when he rang up to her apartment. Well, maybe she wasn't, but she pretended like she was. She hesitated over the intercom, like she didn't want to let him in. But she buzzed him in anyway and he jogged up the stairs, adrenaline pumping. Usually, adrenaline and Gwen didn't sit well together, but tonight, he was pissed. He needed something. Something to do, someone to take his anger out on. Gwen was the only thing he had.

“It's late. What do you want?” she asked, standing out in the hallway in a short nightgown.

“
What do you think?” he said, leaning against the wall, and giving her a low look.

“
You're crazy,” she said, but he could see a flicker of interest in her eyes. “I thought you had a little girlfriend.”

“
Which one?” he asked, chuckling. “Nothing serious going on.”

“
It seemed like you were serious. You forget, I saw you in your suit. At the
ballet
of all places.” Gwen looked him up and down. “I don't see you dressing that special for me.” O'Donovan shrugged as she took in his old jeans and his brother's Pantera concert T-shirt from the '90s.

“
I'll do crazy things to impress a woman. Look at everything I did for you.”

“
Well, I guess you're not trying to impress me anymore.”

“
Are you going to let me in or not, Gwen?”

“
Gwen, huh? Not Gwendolyn?” She smiled and went back into her apartment, and he followed.

“
Just Gwen,” he said, knowing how much she hated her full name. He closed the door behind them, and she perched on the arm of the expensive white couch. He looked around the place. It all pretty much looked the same as when he lived there, but more girly, if that was possible. The walls were still painted a shade she'd called “Tiffany box blue”. She had more soft and frilly things around, and she'd gotten rid of the chair he used to watch TV in.

“
Did she dump you?” she asked, glancing down at her manicured nails.

“
Who?” he asked.

“
That little girl I saw with in the park.”

“
Toni St. James? Is that you who you mean?” O'Donovan walked slowly over to her and she stood, realizing his demeanor had changed. “The same Toni St. James who you told that I cheated on you?”

“
Did she tell you that?” Gwen furrowed her brows, and he knew she was trying to figure out a way to get out of it. But she didn't deny it, and that was all the answer he needed.

“
Why the fuck would you say that? Why the fuck would you even speak to her?” he growled, and Gwen skirted around the couch, putting space between them.

“
How dare you? You were practically humping her leg in the park. Do you know how that makes me look?”

“
Christ! You're fucking kidding me right? So I can't be in Central Park because you say so?”

“
You're in
my
neighborhood!
My
friends could see you. People
I
know. How old is she, huh? 20? 21? And barely three months after the divorce was final!”

“
Are you forgetting who left who? You served me with divorce papers at my fucking job in front of people
I
know, so don't act like you're the goddamn victim.”

“
Were you fucking her when you were married to me?” she asked, cocking her head and crossing her arms.

“
I never fucking cheated on you. We'd still be married right now if you hadn't left me.”

“
Because you're so in love with me? You can't fucking stand me! I could feel the hate and resentment coming off you in waves every time we were together. Unless you wanted to fuck, of course.”

“
You never complained.”

“
Am I supposed to settle for that?!” she screamed. “Why did you even marry me?”

“
I don't know. It was the stupidest fucking thing I ever did,” O'Donovan said.
Well, second stupidest
, he thought. Breaking up with Toni was currently at the top of his list.

“
You fucking asshole,” Gwen said, her voice simmering. “Get out.”

“
I want you to stay away from Toni,” O'Donovan said, keeping his voice even.

“
Oh, please. And what if I don't?  We've got lots of things in common, me and her. Who knows? Maybe we can be friends! She runs in some pretty exclusive circles.”

“
Don't fuck with me, Gwen.”

“
What do you care anyway? Nothing serious, right?” she said, tossing his earlier words in his face. He didn't answer her, letting his silence speak loud and clear. He wasn't fucking around when it came to Toni. He wasn't sure if Toni had really believed Gwen or not, but the last thing he needed was his ex-wife's lies causing them more problems. Gwen's eyes widened. “You're in love with her,” she said, her face twisting as the realization hit her. “You son of a bitch. Are you going to marry her?”

“
I'd marry her tomorrow if she'd let me,” he said, no doubt in his mind.

“
How could you do this to me?” Gwen seemed to collapse inside of herself, her shoulders slumping and tears welling up. “Do you hate me this much?”

“
It's not about you,” O'Donovan said, steeling himself against her tears.

“
We were together for eight years! You hated my money, my friends, my life. Now you want to marry Antoinette St. James? I know who she is. I know who her family is. Mr. Working Class Hero wants to marry into the Van der Kind dynasty?! Are you and Christophe Van der Kind going be drinking buddies? You hypocrite!”

“
In those eight years, how many times did you go fishing with me? How many times did you come to the firehouse or go out with my friends?”

“
I don't fucking know.” She waved him off, like it wasn't important.

“
Exactly. We both know we shouldn't have gotten married. You just had the balls to end it.”

“
Great. You're free to marry your young, beautiful ballerina. I'm so happy for you!” she screamed then dissolved into heaving sobs.

Shit
.

O'Donovan closed the space between them and took her in his arms. He really hated when women cried, even if the woman in question was Gwen. He just couldn't take it. She didn't struggle against him. She let him comfort her as she cried, hiccuping and sobbing into his shirt.

“You were stronger than me. Smarter,” he said. “You were smart enough to end it.”