Sean's POV
I didn't want to get out of the elevator when the doors pinged open on the fourth floor. However, I knew that the entire building was monitored, and if I spent too long in the elevator, they would probably send Steph up to get me. That doesn't sound like any kind of fun. OK, so, deep breath. I walked down the hallway and knocked on the door.
"Come in" Abby shouted from somewhere in the apartment.
I swallowed one last time and opened the door. I was not expecting the sight that awaited me. Abby was sitting on the floor, legs in a figure four, leaning over a cutting board. She had a knife in her hand that was oozing red. Before I freaked out, I noticed the three bowls. There was one her left, one behind the cutting board, and one to her right.
"Whatcha doin?"
The response that I got was not encouraging. Abby's shoulders straightened, and without even looking at me, she stuck her hand into the bowl on the left, pulled out a whole cherry, pitted it, popped the pit into the bowl in the center and then put the two cherry halves into the bowl on her right. "Why are you here." It was more of an angry statement than a question
"We need to talk"
Apparently, that was all it took to get Abby's full attention. As the color drained from her face and she dropped the knife, I realized what that had sounded like. Shit. I didn't have much time to curse myself though, because Abby managed to lever herself upright by pushing herself up with her left arm on the coffee table.
"Are you serious?!" She all but screamed at me. "You've come up with some pretty good lines in the years that I've known you, and then you just waltz in here after that little scene yesterday and say 'we need to talk'? Well, let me tell you something mister you're damn right that we need to talk. We need to talk about us and why you won't let there be an us. " She took a breath to continue her rant, and I saw my opportunity.
"I know"
"Y- what?"
"I came here to talk to you about why I won't let there be an us"
We stared at each other until I realized that Abby couldn't be all too comfortable standing like that.
"Why don't you sit down, and I'll start explaining."
Abby nodded, but she was too far from the couch to sink into it. I picked her up and sat with her on the couch. I didn't want her looking at me while I explained all of this. I didn't want to look at her while I told her about who I really was. So we sat, me wedged into the corner of the sofa, and her leaning against me. It was how we always watched movies together, but this time the dramatics would be real.
"So, are you going to start talking?" Abby asked after a few seconds of me mentally procrastinating.
"Ok, here goes, and no interrupting until I'm done."
Abby nodded and I began my story
"10 years before I was born, my parents moved to this country with their 5 year old son, Aidrian. They left Ireland because my father was needed in the U.S., more particularly, Boston. My father was part of the Irish mafia, and some of the higher ups thought that he would be useful in the U.S. Never one to disobey orders, my father went. For about 9 years, everything was peaceful. My father went to work in the morning, came home at night, and my mother taught first grade. Aidrian sometimes tagged along with father to work. Everything seemed perfect. Then, violence exploded. There was a group of men who dislike what the big bosses were doing, and they tried to organize a coup of sorts. It took months, and it was brutal. Mom hated every second of it, and she was worried sick that the police were going to show up at her door one day and take her to the morgue to claim my father. However, things quieted down, and my father was safe. Then, the day mom found out that she was pregnant again, the rebel group made one last attempt at a takeover. My father was at the Boss' house explaining why he wanted a less active role and, as he was leaving to escort the boss to lunch, the rebels opened fire. The boss lived, but my father didn't. Mom knew before the chaplain and the officer showed up to take her to the morgue. She said that she could feel it when he died. As soon as he was buried, mom did the only thing she could think to do. She ran."
"I'm sorry that that's how your father passed." Abby sighed and shook her head. "Your poor mother. To have made it through the worst and then lose everything in the last stand"
When she was quiet again, I kissed the top of her head and continued.
"Mom really had nothing to be afraid of, but I think that she just wanted to get away from all the violence. You know how much she loves the little parts of life." Abby nodded "Anyways, what she hadn't counted on was my brother. He had been raised in the Irish mafia, and believe me when I say that, like the Italians, they're big on revenge. He was 15 at the time. He took all the money that he had, and ran away from home. He called once to tell my mother what he was doing. He went to the boss and asked to take my father's place. He wanted to be a soldier. For Ireland, for revenge. The boss used all that fury to his advantage, and, when my brother was 16, he killed his first victim."
Abby gasped, which I knew hurt her. She had met my brother once. He had been charming and charmed by Abby, especially after she fed him. My brother had told me that if she was Irish, he would have taken her for himself.
"He's been steadily working his way up the food chain, and now he's the old boss' second in command. There's just one problem though. The boss has a son who thinks that he is better suited for the job than Adrian."
"And where do you stand in all of this?" Abby interrupted again.
"I don't. My brother wanted me to join the ranks when I turned 15, but I didn't want to. My whole life my mother had been telling me how the mafia killed the only man she ever loved and stole her precious first-born from her. I wanted nothing to do with them. I don't think my brother has ever forgiven me for that."
"Is there more to the story, or are you done?"
"There's more. Well, the son of the boss thinks that I'm the perfect pawn to use against my brother. He says that my brother will just bring more violence and destruction if the boss passes the power down to him. He wants me to fight against my brother."
"Back this up. So, they know where you live?"
I nodded. "Like I said, my mom didn't have anything to fear from them. She just didn't want to be a part of that world anymore. And now my mother and I have become pawns in the power struggle between Adrian and the son. The boss is going to have to decide soon, and whichever way it goes, blood will be shed"
"And if we're together?"
"They'll use you as a pawn to get to me. And I refuse to let that happen"
We both sat in silence for a while, thinking.
Abby swung herself upright and faced me. I couldn't look at her. But, she cupped my cheek and tilted my head so that I was staring into her eyes. "I don't care."
I grabbed her fingers and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist. "You can't throw your life away for me. I won't let you"
"I wouldn't be throwing anything away. Sean, listen. If they don't use me, they'll just use your mother. And honestly, I think that the boss knows what's going on. And, he's the boss. You seriously think he got there by being stupid? No. He's crafty. And he's old. Older and craftier and probably he is racking his brains on how to resolve this power struggle before it splits the group in half and leaves people dead. He'll figure something out."
"You can't know that"
"Well, I can hope for it"
"Hope isn't the best armor."
"Burying my head in the sand doesn't work either now does it?"
Our voices had gradually been rising, and my temper was flaring.
"I should never have told you this"
Abby looked like I had slapped her. But then, her eyes snapped with fury and she said "Yeah. You know what. You shouldn't have. Because now that I know the truth. You don't have any excuses to hide behind. There's no mysterious danger lurking around the corner. You aren't involved in anything that you have to protect me from now. Now you have to face the truth. And the truth is that you're scared shitless. You've seen how badly it hurts when you lose the person who your heart beats for, and now you're scared to take that risk. You're too scared to give your heart into someone else's keeping. Well tough break bucko!"
That said, she lunged forward and kissed me. It wasn't a sweet, tender kiss. It was angry, it was sad, it was desperate. It was the result of two years of frustration. It was glorious. Somehow, my hands were tangled in her hair, and hers were cupped behind my head. She pulled away first.
"Tá mo chroí istigh ionat" I whispered.
The sparking anger in Abby's eyes faded and her lips, already swollen, curved up into a smile. She leaned forward and kissed me again. This time softly and sweetly. It made me ache to tell her in plain English what I'd already confessed in words she didn't understand. Before that car accident, I was scared to give her my heart. Sucker that I am, I didn't realize she'd had it for a long time.
This time, our kiss broke because we needed air. Abby was still smiling when she pulled my palm to her chest. I could feel her heart beating, a reassuring thump. "It's yours" Funny how with two simple words I was completely overwhelmed. I could think of nothing to say except the truth.
"I love you."
Abby grinned. "So keep me close to you. You say you don't want me hurt, but what hurts me more than anything else is when you tell me, albeit politely, to keep my feelings to myself" And she leaned in for another kiss.
Damnit. Ranger had been right. She had changed the rules on me, and now I couldn't resist. "Never again"
Tá mo chroí istigh ionat - My heart is within you
