His Wicked Celtic Kiss (23 page)

Lorcan pounced for the mobile and placed it against his ear. “Get him to the hospital. Maggie was in a car accident. Doesn't look good. She's at Rockland General, I'll meet you there.”

He clicked off and looked at the man down on his knees. Big, tough Liam De Luca shuddered in a mass of grief and pain. Lorcan sprinted toward the woman, grabbing her arm and pushing her none too gently into the bedroom. “Get dressed.” He reached in his pocket and peeled off a few twenties, tossing them on the bed. “Call a cab from the lobby. Get out, now.”

“What's going on?” the woman's nasal voice whined.

“Nothing that concerns you. I'm giving you five minutes to get dressed and get your arse downstairs. Move!”

Lorcan slammed the bedroom door. Liam was still on his knees, oblivious to the fact the towel had fallen away. Jaysus,
that
he didn't need to see. Lorcan tried to bring Liam to his feet. It wasn't easy. The man was as tall as himself, but more muscular. “Come on, man. I'll take you to the hospital.”

Reluctantly, Liam stood, taking the towel Lorcan held out for him. He held it tightly, his knuckles turning white from the effort. Liam appeared to be in a state of shock. Christ, would he have to dress the man? The bedroom door opened and the woman breezed past. She stopped as if to say something to De Luca, but Lorcan pushed her out of the suite, slamming the door after her.

“Get dressed. Hurry.” Lorcan dragged Liam toward the bedroom.

“She's dead. I know it,” Liam whispered miserably. “My fault … we fought. She accused me. She found out.”

Lorcan reached for Liam's clothes and tossed them to him. “Recriminations later, mate. For now, she needs you. Let's go. Move.”

Liam nodded as if in a trance, then began to dress. Lorcan stepped out and closed the door, exhaling on a long, ragged breath. He didn't need this, getting caught up in someone's tragedy. But here he was, firmly entrenched. He couldn't very well put De Luca in a cab. This was part of his job. His duties.

The door opened at last and Liam De Luca stepped out with his coat on, ready to go. As they emerged from the elevator into the underground parking, Liam slid into the front passenger seat, staring straight ahead.

Lorcan quickly barked commands and the display showed him the quickest way to Rockland General. He backed out and with tires screeching, pulled out onto the street and floored it. Thankfully traffic was light, being Christmas night. Most sane people were home sitting in front of the Christmas tree drinking eggnog. He just hoped there weren't any coppers about, because he exceeded the speed limit. Good thing he had a particular talent for weaving in and out of traffic and driving with the right balance of speed and caution.

Finally, De Luca spoke. “She'd been following me for weeks. Were you aware?”

Lorcan winced. What would be the point of telling the man of his suspicions? He hadn't known for sure it had been her at any rate. “No. But I've only driven you a few times. Maybe your man Paulie noticed.”

Liam laughed sharply. “She waits until Christmas day to unload on me. I'd just asked her to marry me. She threw the ring in my face. We fought. Things said on both sides. I'll never forgive myself if she … ” Liam gulped. “I love her so damned much.” Liam must have heard Lorcan snort, because he turned toward him. “I can't explain why I still went to other women. I'd waited for Maggie for so long. Fuck. I sound pathetic.”

Lorcan agreed with that assessment. Still, the man didn't deserve this, regardless of his careless behavior.

“I was just so confused. Couldn't get my head on straight.”

For the first time, he had a pang of sympathy for the man. “Love will do that to you.”

After pulling into the underground parking, Liam bolted from the car before Lorcan could turn off the ignition. Lorcan followed on Liam's heels until they reached the information desk. The woman gave instructions and they both sprinted to the emergency room. Kieran waited in the hall.

The two brothers embraced. Liam stepped back. “Tell me. What is it?”

Kieran grasped his elbow and steered him toward the waiting room. “Come in here.”

That didn't bode well. He didn't want to say in the hall? Lorcan followed them into the room and closed the door. Vinnie and Sully stood by, looking grave.

“She died not fifteen minutes ago, son. I'm sorry for your loss,” Vinnie said, his voice soft.

Tears spilled down Liam's cheeks. Vinnie pulled him into an embrace, but Liam kept his arms at his side. “I want to see her,” Liam's voice sounded flat and detached.

“Liam, I'm not sure that's a good idea ... ” Kieran ventured.

“Take me to her.”

Liam stepped forward, but stumbled. His brother and father took each arm and led him from the room.

Sully shook his head. “The man's in shock. Damned bloody shame. Get this. The doctor said she was two months pregnant. Uncle Vinnie said for the time being we'd better keep that information to ourselves. I agree.”

Lorcan slumped into a nearby chair, Sully sat next to him. “Jaysus. You know why he was at the hotel?”

“Aye, Kieran told us. What a fecked-up mess. Listen, Lorcan. You don't have to stay. In fact, could you swing by The Playpen? I had to call Nick in to do cleanup and inventory. Things were still a bit of a jumble from Christmas Eve. If you could take over, he can go home to his lady.”

Lorcan nodded. “Aye, I'll head right over. We'll talk later.”

They both stood and embraced, lingering for a moment to savor the friendship. Lorcan pulled away and headed for the door. As he stepped into the hall, he heard a distant wail of agony from the emergency room. A crowd had gathered and they all turned toward the painful, heartbreaking sound. A dark-haired, attractive young woman in a blue coat tried to break up the gathering. A volunteer maybe? She wore a nametag so she must be connected to the hospital in some capacity. Lorcan heard people whispering the name “De Luca” and pointing. This would be all over town by morning. Unreal.

“Enough! Move along, back to your rooms and if you're visitors, visiting hours have long passed. I will call security if you all don't disperse.” The woman spoke with a good deal of confidence and authority, so though the people grumbled in protest, they did indeed move along. He and the lady locked gazes for a moment. He nodded to her, acknowledging her statement. She turned away and headed toward the emergency room.

Walking toward the exit, he reached in his pocket for the car keys.

Merry feckin' Christmas.

Lorcan took his time driving toward the club. Flickering lights from the downtown Christmas decorations illuminated the interior of the car casting a faux festive glaze over everything. He flicked off the radio and drove in silence. Apparently tragedy didn't take a holiday. He knew that. He'd seen plenty in the army and beyond.

Witnessing a tragedy like this could do one of two things to a person. Punctuate the fact that to love someone is to lose them and suffer numbing heartbreak. Liam De Luca would have to live with his grief, loss, and guilt for the rest of his days. A person could see that and say, “I'll never allow myself to love like that. Who wants to be hurt?” and avoid it at all costs.

On the other hand, such a personal catastrophe would encourage someone to grasp love and hold it close, because life was too damned short to hesitate. Lorcan stood in the first category. He had for years. After this, he had doubts he'd chosen the right faction. Life
was
too damned short. He'd tried to deny he had any deep feelings about anything or anyone, including Julie. The sad truth was, he felt too damned much and it bloody hurt. Avoiding love or emotion had been a stupid and futile exercise on his part. Time he started facing the fact he'd been acting like a blasted idiot for far too long.

Lorcan parked the car outside the brick building that housed the strip club. A few snow flurries tumbled from the sky above and landed in his hair and rested on his eyelashes.

He entered the club and locked the door behind him. There stood Nick behind the bar, drying glasses with a towel. A roll of guilt squeezed Lorcan low and deep. Talk about avoiding emotions. He hadn't been a good friend lately to Nick. He'd kept his distance from him and Veronica both. Why? He liked them well enough. He liked them a lot, truth be told. Perhaps he wanted to give the couple space, to let them revel in their newfound love. There was that—or maybe he didn't want to answer any questions regarding his feelings for Julie. And that was not all. Nick so succinctly pigeon-holed him this past summer, and he did the very thing Nick had called him on—pushing people away when they got too close. Without realizing he was even doing it, Lorcan had slowly detached himself from Nick and their friendship. Combine the guilt he carried about Ronan's part in Nick's bar fire and it made quite a potent mix. Time to make amends. Even if he wouldn't tell what he knew about the fire, it was time to stop keeping good friends at arm's length.

“What's the news?” Nick called out.

Lorcan sat at the bar. “The lass didn't make it.”

Nick lowered his head. “Damn. Just last week Liam showed me the engagement ring he'd bought her.” Nick reached under the bar and placed two glasses on it. He grasped a bottle of Glenfiddich, filling the tumblers halfway. Nick lifted his glass. “May she rest in peace.”

Lorcan touched his glass to Nick's. “Aye. And Liam and all.”

They drank in silence for a few moments.

“Know what Liam said when he showed me the ring? ‘Too much time wasted. I should've fought for her years ago. I let her slip away and my life was never the same without her. I've got a second chance.' Damn. He's right. I went right out and bought an engagement ring myself.” Nick took a sip of whiskey. “Have it in my pocket. Ronnie and I talked about marriage in general terms as something down the road, but why wait? I love her. I want to be with her the rest of my life. Think I'll propose New Year's Eve.”

“Congratulations to you both. You deserve every happiness.” Lorcan smiled. He wouldn't tell Nick the sordid story of where Liam had been and with whom. Not tonight. Nick would hear soon enough. No need to cast a squalid illumination over an already gloomy Christmas.

“Thanks. Much appreciated.” Nick set his glass on the table. “And what about you, Lorcan? Ronnie invited you and Julie over for dinner last month. You turned it down. You guys not a couple anymore? Still planning on hightailing it back to Ireland in a month's time?”

Lorcan didn't like the taunting tone of Nick's voice. Truth though, he did turn down the invite and for the reasons Nick hinted at. He didn't want him and Julie to be thought of as a couple. No, that wasn't it.
He
was the one who didn't want to think of them as a couple. What utter shite. Shame covered him. Such a base coward. And about so many things.

“That's the plan, aye, to go home. Always was.” He looked into his drink. “You called it, Nick. Remember? This past summer. Not letting people get too close. Deflecting them with my Irish bullshit charm?”

Nick snorted. “Yeah, I remember.”

“And I did the very thing to you and to ... Julie. Are we a couple? Two months ago, I would've said probably not. Now ... well, I'm not sure.”

“Don't be an ass, man. I tried to deny my feelings for Ronnie. She was the one who said she loved me first. I acted like a jerk, but as soon as she told me of her feelings, man, everything clicked into place. The reasons for rejecting what emotions she stirred up in me seemed so fucking stupid.”

“Julie just told me she loved me,” Lorcan replied softly.

“And what the hell are you going to do with that information?” Nick downed his drink and poured another, refilling Lorcan's for good measure.

“I could ignore it, pack my bags and leave. I've been keeping her at a distance for so long. A lot of bloody good it did. She managed to slip past and touch my heart anyway. She's a fine lass. There's no doubt I desire her. The sex is fantastic. Best ever, no worries there.”

Nick cocked an eyebrow. “But?”

“I have these recurring nightmares from my time in the army. I won't go into detail tonight, but it seems it's affecting my ability to function at times—to feel things, emotionally.”

“PTSD?”

“I haven't been officially diagnosed, but aye, I think so. I've been putting off seeing a doctor on a regular basis, using excuses of my constant travel to delay it. The time has come for me to face the fact that I do need help. I didn't want Julie exposed to my demons. I'm a
muckshite
mess.”

Nick slung the bar towel over his shoulder. “Jesus, we're all a mess at one time or another. Julie loves you. She can help and support you and if you loved her enough, you'd let her. You admit you need help? Great. Now show some guts and admit you love Julie. Quit fucking around and make a decision one way or another.” Nick took another drink and slammed the glass on the bar. “How's that for bartender wisdom?”

“Shite or get off the pot?”

“Pretty much.”

Lorcan threw back the rest of his drink. “I do love her—with what is left of my heart and soul. I've been a daft beggar. I love her enough to leave her in peace. Why subject her to the uncertainty? That's what I've been telling myself.” Lorcan hesitated. Might as well lay it all out there. “I think I've been in love with her since the first dinner date. Outside the restaurant, I kissed her. Something powerful passed between us and I chose to deny and ignore it. Fact is I'm scared shiteless. I've never felt this way before.”

Nick nodded. “I hear you, but the time has come to choose. Choose wisely. Merry Christmas, Lorcan.”

Lorcan stood. “Aye, Merry Christmas to you and Veronica. Go home to your lady. And thanks Nick. For everything.”