Chapter 2

'Shouldn't we go in?' Grace pressured him after the fourth time they circled around the building. Tommy thoughtfully pulled his index finger and thumb across his mouth. They were more than fifteen minutes late and going in circles like that more than likely caught the attention of Kimber's men - this meant that their chances of getting in unnoticed virtually diminished. Yet, Ciara was nowhere to be found. Damn, he should've picked her up himself. Maybe her parents got a word from Harry, especially after Thomas brought off the Garrison from him. Or maybe she just decided she wanted nothing to do with him. Anyway, it was for the better. Pretty girls like her shouldn't hang around demons like him.

His stomach sank lower. The world around him appeared just as dull as it usually had been since he returned from France.

'Yeah, we should,' he grabbed Grace's hand and went inside.

And there, after rushing through narrow corridors filled with people, after instructing Grace that from now on she was Lady Sarah of Connemara, after getting to the party behind the scenes and asking Grace for a dance - he spotted her.

Ciara was sitting right next to Kimber, swirling a glass of wine in her hand. Her tense posture was a tell-tale sign that she was not enjoying herself in the man's company. She massaged the light fabric of her dress between her fingers as if counting down the minutes. Her legs were crossed and she leant away every time Kimber tried to close the distance between them.

It was something Tommy did not account for. He eagerly checked his watch. If only Arthur and the boys would hurry...

His mind was all over the place; a feeling he hadn't ever experienced. He was recounting all his steps, all the possibilities, searching for a way to sort things out. As he did so, he realised the terrible decisions he made. It was obvious, that it came down to one thing: asking Ciara to come with him.

He didn't realise that it not only fitted terribly into the plan if at all, it made every precaution and detail crumble on itself. How did he expect to show up with both Grace and her? How did he expect Kimber not to see Ciara? Even if so, how did he expect Ciara to be okay with him letting Grace do the dirty work?

The answer was easy: he did not think. He didn't consider Grace, Kimber, or the deal for the matter. He asked Ciara because he wanted her to come with him.

'Go on, love, drink that wine,' Kimber urged Ciara who sat beside him quite uncomfortably, her face paler than the freshly plastered walls. With her light dress, she could've been a ghost.

'No, thank you,' she said as she swallowed dry. 'I'm feeling ill.'

'Maybe some fresh air would help,' the man said suggestively, but there was no consideration in his tone. He grabbed her arm rather hastily and lead her out of the ballroom. Ciara's stomach sank lower and though her muscles cramped as if on command, she couldn't fight it. In mere seconds, she was out of the room, full of people - now, alone.

The next time Tommy glanced up, Ciara was gone. And to his horror, so was Billy Kimber. He searched the room, hoping they were dancing around them...

'Tommy, what's wrong?'

'Go find Arthur. They'll take you home,' he replied curtly as he let Grace's hand go.

'Your brothers are here?' She asked but Thomas stormed away. 'Tommy, what's going on?'

Ciara didn't remember what had happened. She left her body the minute the doors were shut - there were flashes of fabric, abrupt sounds, and she heard her own voice, but she couldn't recall if there was a struggle at all. There must have been, her dress was torn and her limbs were sore; yet the next thing she knew was that she was covered in cold sweat and there was a pulsating pain. It took her seconds to realise it came from between her legs.

Her hair clung to the perspiration on her face and someone brushed it away. Somebody had his arm around her and they were walking.

'Ciara,' she heard, though it was not the first time she was called. A smudge of gray, it seemed familiar.

They were outside. She was sat into... Was it a car? Yes. The engine started and purred on and on and on.

She felt sick. She opened the door...

'What...?' Tommy glanced over and hit the brakes just before she basically fell out of the vehicle. Her legs were wobbly, making her whole body shake as she emptied out the small amount of wine that was yet in her stomach.

The man was now beside her. He pulled her hair behind and twisted it to keep it together as he yet again held her firmly so she wouldn't crumble. Tommy whispered something in her ear, but she couldn't understand; she wasn't even sure it was a language she spoke.

Polly was smoking in the dark, quiet house. The smoke was slowly building around her as she lit one cigarette after the other; she loved the boys and Ada as her own, and whenever they were in trouble she was overwhelmed with worry. She knew all of them were raised to withstand all odds and that trouble flowed in their veins, maybe more so than blood - but times like this she couldn't help but remember that they were only human. As she stared into nothingness, the purple flow of smoke was disturbed by the door flinging open.

'Pol, please help me,' Tommy begged, holding the small frame of a girl close to his body.

'Now you need my help?' The woman turned her nose up but stopped just as soon as she took note of the girl. 'Oh my god, Tommy, what...?'

'Kimber took her and...' he didn't have to continue: Polly was an old enough fox to be able to tell what happened. She wrapped an arm around the shock-paralysed Ciara and lead her to her own room.

Once the woman left the room, Ciara sank into the warm bath. Everything seemed big, stretched. The ceiling was further away than usual. As the water embraced her body it cleansed her of all the pain that did not reside in her skin but in her soul. The very soul and mind that was dripping back into her consciousness, filling her muscles and bones as she stared at the shapes in the wallpaper. With it came the urgency to run away and leave her skin again, but also, to not be a nuisance. She washed herself with soap, though nothing could've erased the yet-light bruises or the memories of the night.

'What now, Thomas, you bring innocent girls to do your bidding?' Polly hissed when she reentered the room.

'How is she?' He asked, ignoring his aunt's fury.

'How is she?' She echoed angrily. 'I thought you were better than this, Tommy. How could you get her into this?'

'I didn't want to!'

'You didn't want to? What was your plan, then? That Kimber would have a little dance with her and that's it? Don't think I'm stupid.'

'I didn't have a plan,' he admitted angrily and lit a cigarette. He flung his arms to the side. 'I asked her to come with me to the races. I didn't think. I screwed up my own fucking plan. You can ask Arthur, he'd be more than happy to fill you in.'

Pol stared at him as he took a long drag from his cigarette and began to pace around the room.

'What's her name?' She asked seriously, folding her arms in front of her.

'Ciara McDowell,' his reply was almost shy and he scratched his head. 'She's Harry, the bartender's niece.'

Polly had to bite her tongue to repress the smirk that was pulling on the edges of her mouth. She took a few, deliberate steps towards him, yet when she spoke her voice stayed stern.

'She'll be fine. She's made of stronger wood than what Kimber could break,' she reassured him. 'Once she's out of the bath, you take her home. It will be better for her to sleep somewhere that's familiar.'

There was silence besides the chirping of crickets. Not far, the blurred silhouette of a cottage stood against the paleness of the night and the few stars blinking through the veil of clouds. The hood of the car was still warm as they sat on top of it, the both of them having a burning cigarette in their fingers. Ciara blinked at the house as if there was something awaiting for her.

'Why didn't you meet me where we agreed to?' Tommy asked out of the blue.

'I got there early,' she confessed. 'Then I saw you...' she stopped to lick her mouth before speaking again. 'Grace, was it? The barmaid my uncle hired. She's... She's very pretty.'

The man didn't need a second to draw the conclusion: 'You think I'm courting Grace.'

Ciara didn't reply - not only she felt silly, but the freshness she gained from the bath earlier was wearing away and the heaviness of the day began to weigh upon her. Her body was sore and tired and her eyes already stung. She didn't need another reason to cry.

'I'm sorry I've ruined everything,' she said quietly.

Tommy stared at her in disbelief.

'Ciara, you didn't ruin anything,' he said sternly. 'Grace... Grace was part of a plan I had. A plan I fucked up, okay? It has nothing to do with you.'

He tried to grab her hand but she jumped and pulled it away just as his fingers grazed across her hand.

'Please, don't,' she swallowed hard and took a long drag from her cigarette only to then throw it to the side. She shuffled closer to the hood's edge and hopped off the car, Tommy following her closely. 'Thank you for bringing me home.'

He shot a glance at the house.

'You sure you don't want me to see you home?'

'I'll be fine,' Ciara assured him. 'Bye, Tommy.'

He watched her figure grow smaller and smaller. He felt silly but he was unable to shake the need of running after her, asking her if he'd see her again, if she was mad, if she'd ever talk to him. He needed to know. Not knowing was eating him alive - he was so used to being in control, always knowing the next step...

He sat and waited in the car long after he saw her close the door behind her. He revved up the engine, hoping the sound would oil the gears of his mind. He had to be on high alert now.

Billy Kimber was cross with him.