Taming Tesla: The Gilroy Clan vol. 6, page 2
“I—” Finally on her feet again, her face goes white and stiff like I just slapped her. “I’m sorry about the dress. About letting you believe that I—”
“What are you wearing?” I say, giving her a quick, disapproving glance. The hem of her Navy pencil skirt is peeking out from under the bottom of her fancy Chanel coat. It’s mid-March in Boston, she’s lucky she’s not frozen solid.
“Patrick has been pulling double duty since Dec—” She stops short, like saying Declan’s name out loud can summon him like the devil. “Patrick had a site meeting with clients so I took his meeting with the director of Veteran Affairs.” She smooths her hands over the front of her coat before looking at me. “Are you going to let me apologize or not?” I can hear traces of the old Henley in her tone. She’s getting angry.
“There’s no need—Declan took the blame.” I tuck my bandana back into my pocket. “He told me you didn’t want to do it but that he manipulated you into giving it to me and lying about who it was from.”
“You talked to him?” She lowers her voice and says it carefully, taking a step in my direction so I can hear her. “When? No one has seen or even talked to him since Sunday. He showed up late to the game but left a few minutes later. He didn’t even come to dinner afterward. It’s like he just—” Her mouth snaps shut when she figures it out. Where Declan disappeared to on Sunday afternoon. Who he was with. What we were doing. “Oh.”
“Right.” I nod and smile even though I get that sick, queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach again, just thinking about it. Not what we did to each other. What I did to him afterward. “Oh.”
“Tess…” Henley shakes her head and holds her hand out between us like she’s trying to reason with something dangerous. Something that’s not thinking clearly. “I don’t—”
“You’re no better than he is, you know?” I cut her off with a cold smile. “What you did to Conner, what you put him through…” I shake my head at her. “At least Declan had the guts to stick around and face me and what he’d done.”
She goes white again, so fast that I’m sure she’s going to topple over. “Conner and I are none of your business.”
“Perfect,” I say, nodding my head at her. “Then that means Declan and I are none of yours.” I take a step toward her, closing the distance between us. “So, you’ll keep your mouth shut about us and I won’t tell Con about your brief stint as his brother’s minion. We’ll just pretend none of it ever happened—deal?”
“You sound just like him.” She doesn’t have to clarify who she’s talking about. She’s talking about Declan. How manipulative and cold he can be when he wants something. How willing he is to break and twist everything around him in order to get it—and she’s right.
I do sound like Declan.
“I won’t say anything to Con,” she says, smoothing the palms of her hands over imaginary wrinkles in her coat. “But because I love you and you’re my friend—not because you’ve obviously been taking blackmail lessons from Declan.”
I don’t think she meant it as an insult but the way she says it stings all the same. “Great. Thanks.” I tuck my bandana back into my pocket and lower myself onto my creeper again. “Like I said, Con’s at the library—you should go bother him,” I tell her, tucking my earbuds back in. I up the volume on music and roll myself back under the car without waiting for a reply.
3
Declan
For someone who wanted to talk, Cari sure is quiet. She’s sitting on my couch, boots kicked off, stockinged feet kicked up on my coffee table while she hoovers her way through her chorizo and egg breakfast burrito.
I put on a pair of track pants and an old team shirt for good measure before making my way past her and into the kitchen area to pull a couple of beers from the fridge. Making my way back to the couch, I settle in next her before twisting their caps off. I offer her one and even though I’m guessing it’s somewhere in the neighborhood of 10AM, she takes it.
“I’m sorry.”
When I say it she bounces a perplexed look at my face while she chews. Her mouth finally clear, she shakes her head at me. “For what?”
“For losing my shit at the park the other day. About the ring. I was out of line.” When she doesn’t answer me, I sigh, leaning forward to set my beer on the coffee table. “That is why you’re here, isn’t it?”
“Seriously?” She narrows her eyes at me and shakes her head. “You think I stormed your castle with a bagful breakfast burritos because I think you owe me an apology?”
Now that she’s said it out loud it sounds stupid, which makes me defensive. “How the fuck am I supposed to know why you’re here, Cari? You’ve done nothing but piss me off and eat since you got here.”
“Does this mean you’re not sorry anymore?” When I start to mutter curse words she laughs at me. “You weren’t out of line, Declan. You were hurt.” She drops her gaze to the ring glittering on her finger and her laughter falters a bit. “I should be the one apologizing to you.” Her hand tightens into a fist and she lifts her gaze to meet mine. “When Patrick told me it was your grandmother’s ring I didn’t even think about how him giving it to me would affect you or Conner.”
“It’s fine,” I say, lying through my teeth. “Con wouldn’t want it.” At least that part is true. He and Henley have their own thing.
“But you did.”
I look away from her when she says it because the expression on her face tells me just how fucked up and pathetic I really am.
“Nah.” I shake my head, reaching for the bag of food on the table in front of me. Pulling out a foil-wrapped burrito, I sit back and focus on unwrapping it. “Jessica had her heart set on some 10-carat monstrosity from Tiffany’s,” I tell her, pretending that the first words that popped out of my mouth when I saw my grandmother’s ring on Cari’s finger weren’t I was going to give it to Tess. “It deserves to be worn. Makes perfect sense that Da gave it to Patrick.”
Like he gave him everything else that was rightfully yours. He’d never say it but truth is, Da would trade you in for your cousin in a hot second if he could.
I smother the thought before it can take root. Kill it and stuff it down, dark and deep. “Is that it? Are we done with the deep and meaningful?” I take a healthy bite of my burrito and chew while I watch Cari nervously pick at the label on the beer bottle sweating in her hand.
Finally she shakes her head. “At dinner on Sunday, I mentioned we don’t want a long engagement. When I told your mom we were thinking about just going to the courthouse, she looked like she was about to toss me through a window.”
“The courthouse?” I almost choke on my burrito. “You said we’re getting married at the courthouse to my mother? You’re lucky she didn’t throw you through a window.”
“Yeah.” Cari flicks her gaze upward and gives me a nervous smile. “She told me about the Cape Cod house and your family’s tradition of getting married there—” She loses her nerve and looks away from me. “but I understand that your grandfather left it to you. It’s your house and I would never expect to just—”
I swallow hard, forcing the food in my mouth down my throat and I have to keep swallowing so it doesn’t get stuck and choke me for real. I knew this would happen eventually. That family tradition would rear its ugly head and force me back there. That someone else would get to have all the things I couldn’t.
“Of course you and Patrick are getting married at the Cape house.” I can feel my chest getting tight. My ribcage curling in around my heart and lungs, squeezing them so hard I can feel my pulse thumping against my eardrums. “Why would that even be a question?”
“I just—” She flounders, my harsh tone taking her by surprise. “I didn’t want to assume.”
“Assume what?” I purposely lighten my tone, tossing my cold, half-eaten burrito on the table in front of me. “Assume that I’m not the selfish, manipulative asshole everyone says I am?”
“I don’t think that about you.” Cari narrows her gaze at me and shakes her head. “I’ve never thought that about you.”
“That’s because you don’t know me.” I drain my beer and stand. “There are legitimate reasons for why everyone hates me.” I reach down and swipe her beer out of her hand. It’s still full. She didn’t want it. She just took it to be polite. “I’ve earned the reputation. Ask Cap’n. He’ll tell you.”
“I don’t have to ask anyone anything.” She leans forward and starts jamming wadded up napkins and burrito remnants back into the bag. “I may be the Gilroy Family noob but I know more than you think.”
“Is that so?” I lift her untouched beer to my mouth and drain that one too. “Enlighten me.” Turning, I walk my empties to the trash can and drop them in. When I turn back around, Cari is on her feet and glaring at me.
“I know you went to the hospital, after the confrontation I had with James in his office.”
I remember that day. Cari’s ex lured her to his office with the threat of releasing a sex tape he made of them without her permission. He attacked her and she put him in the hospital. Got him with mace and fucked up his face. While everyone was arguing over what to do, I slipped out and headed for the hospital, like she said, because I knew Patrick would end up there eventually and I didn’t want him to do something he’d regret later. I talked him into a cup of coffee and he asked me what Tess did to make me leave her.
Nothing. Not a goddamned thing.
That’s what I told him. And it was true.
The only thing Tess did wrong was believe me. Trust me.
“So?” I give her a disinterested shrug to hide the fact that she’s practically gutted me. “I got tired of listening to you idiots chase each other around and decided to do something instead of thumbing my ass.”
The top of her port-wine birthmark is peeking out from under the neckline of her shirt. I don’t know her all that well but common sense would dictate that the fact that it’s nearly black says I’ve managed to piss her off. Good. Maybe she’ll leave.
“You didn’t spend eighteen hours camped out in a hospital lobby because you were sick of our shit.” She snatches the bag off the table and wads it up. “You went there to wait for Patrick because you knew that he’d show up and you wanted to stop him from doing something stupid—because he’s your family and you love him.”
I don’t tell her it was a tossup between Patrick and Tess as to who would show up to put a beating on her ex or that the not-so-small, fucked-up part of me hoped it’d be Tess, just so I could force her to look at me instead of through me. Talk to me instead of around me.
Admit I exist.
I don’t tell Cari that because admitting it would come too close to admitting the truth. That I’m in love with Tess. That I’ve always been in love with her and that I’m never going to stop.
Instead, I lean my shoulder against the wall and give her a shit-eating grin. “I sure hope this story has a happy ending.”
“I know something else too.” She has the good grace to ignore my dickhead comment. “I know you and Tess belong together. That under all the hurt and despite everything the two of you have done to one another, you still love each other.”
I think about the last time I saw her. The way she looked at me. Like I was a mistake. Something she wishes she could take back. “Tess hates me.”
“Maybe.” She nods while reaching for her coat to pull it on. “But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you.”
Watching her button her coat and wind her scarf around her neck, I suddenly don’t want her to leave. “In case you forgot, I’m getting married in three weeks—to not Tess.”
“Don’t remind me.” She reaches into her coat pocket and pulls out a pair of knit gloves. “I’m Bridezilla’s maid-of-honor, remember?” She swipes the bag of trash off the table and tosses it to me on her way to the door. Hand on the knob, she stops and looks at me. “Speaking of the colossal mistake you’re about to ruin your life by making—if getting married at the Cape house is a Gilroy family tradition, then why aren’t you and Jessica getting married there? I mean, I get the ring. Your parents hate Jessica. Even if you did ask for the ring to give to her, which I’d bet my life you didn’t, they wouldn’t have given it to you. But the house is different, isn’t it? It’s yours—” she tilts her head and gives me a shrug. “You could burn the son of a bitch to the ground and your family wouldn’t have a word to say about it, so if marrying Jessica is really what you want to do, then why not do it there?”
Cari’s question forces me to imagine it. Jessica in the master suite of the Cape house, putting on her wedding dress. Her army of bridesmaids, drinking champagne and fluffing her skirts. Her mother fixing her veil and clucking about how marrying me is so smart while Jessica stands at the window and counts attendees so she can calculate the guest to gift ratio. “I would rather burn it to the ground before letting her anywhere near our house.”
Our house.
It slips out before I can catch it.
Our house.
Mine and Tess’s.
Cari’s gaze goes soft and her shoulders slump a little under the weight of my admission. “I have heard stories about you, you know?” Her jaw tightens for a second. “That Declan wouldn’t give up—he wouldn’t stop. He’d go through anyone and anything he had to, to get Tess back.”
“That Declan did give up, remember?” I have to look away from her for a moment because the mixture of understanding and pity I see in her eyes is enough to make me want to punch myself in the fucking face. “That Declan is fucking dangerous because he broke her.”
She nods, giving me a sad smile while she pulls the door open. “Then it stands to reason he should be the one to put her back together.”
4
Tess
Con: We need to talk.
The text came through just as I was getting ready to close up for the night. He never came back to the garage after the library, instead he heads straight to Gilroy’s for his shift behind the bar.
Me: Okay.
Want me to hang
out and wait for
you here?
Catching my lip ring between my teeth, I give it a tug, imagining that Henley decided to throw herself on her sword and come clean to him about her and Declan’s Lucy & Ethel scheme to get me into that fucking dress. She wouldn’t have to tell him anything else. Just the fact that Declan bought it would be enough for him to launch The Spanish Inquisition 2.0.
If that’s the case, I might as well get in my car and head for Canada. After I strangle Henley with her fucking pearls.
Con: Nah. Meet
me at the bar. I’ll
buy you a drink.
Reading his reply, my gut unclenches a little. If he were going to confront me about his brother, he wouldn’t do it at Gilroy’s. Not tonight anyway.
It’s Thursday.
Ladies’ Night.
And Declan will be there.
Or maybe not. He’s been MIA for days now. No one’s seen him. Talked to him. He’s probably still sulking. Won’t even show.
Me: Only if there
are chicken wings
involved.
Shoving my phone back into my pocket without waiting for a reply, I finish closing up for the night.
I walk in on the tail end of Happy Hour, letting myself in through the side door with my key, rather than trying to fight my way through the front. I catch sight of Con pouring a round of what looks like Lemon Drops into a row of waiting glasses and Logan at the taps, filling pitchers, even though Thursday isn’t his regular night to work. Further evidence that Declan is blowing off his shift.
My phone buzzes almost instantly.
Con: Meet me at
the table. Be there
in a minute.
Weaving myself through the healthy-sized crowd of pre-gamers, I walk and text at the same time.
Me: K. I’m serious
about the wings.
I laugh at the eye-roll emoji he fires back, getting ready to shove my phone back into my pocket when I plow headlong into what I’m pretty sure is a wall with arms.
A fantastic-smelling wall with arms, that reaches up to grab me around the shoulders and steady me on my feet to keep me from bouncing back and falling on my ass.
Declan.
My gut clenches, hard enough to make me want to throw-up and I have to force myself to look up at his face.
Not Declan.
Went.
“Where’s the fire, short-stuff?”
My stomach loosens so fast I can practically feel it in my toes. The smile I give him is real and he returns it, flashing me a quick grin while he sets me back on my feet. “Hey.” Taking a quick look around, I catch the back of Patrick’s head disappearing into the crowd. “What are you doing here?”
“I work here.” Still grinning, Went leans a hip against the pool table. “Four nights a week.”
What?
“Yeah?” I shake my head on a laugh. “Cap’n mentioned he was looking to hire a new shotgirl.” I cock my head and give him a look like I’m trying to imagine him in Daisy Dukes and the requisite GILROY’S GIRL tank top. “I don’t think the required uniform comes in your size.”
Went barks out a laugh while pulling me out of the way to make room for a pack of college girls on the prowl. More than one of them stare openly at Went as the saunter toward the pool tables. And who can blame them, really. He’s gorgeous. Dark hair. Even darker eyes. As big as a house and covered in more tats that Con and I put together.
“Seriously,” I say, ignoring the whispers and side-eye I’m getting from the pool tables. “Why are you here?”
“I told you.” He cocks his head and shrugs. “I work here.”
