Line Of Fire Read online

  Chapter Five

  Dylan

  “Whores, booze, gambling.” I shook my head. Fucking hell, Jimmy, what were you thinking?

  Emma leaned in. “Dylan, I don’t know for sure that he was involved. I know I didn’t know him as well as I know you, but we all grew up together. You, me, Jimmy, and Tommy. It just doesn’t make sense.”

  I shook my head. “No, but whatever was going on here, I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”

  Emma nodded. “I hope you do.”

  “You think Tara knows what was going on?”

  “I don’t know what she knows. You’ll have to ask her. But I’d move quickly. I doubt she’ll stay around now that Jimmy’s gone.”

  “No?”

  Emma shrugged. “Why would she? She doesn’t have any ties here. Jimmy was the only reason she was here. At least, as far as any of us could tell. I asked Tommy what Jimmy saw in her, and he told me she had big tits and knew how to keep her mouth shut.” Emma’s cheeks reddened at her comment, and I caught her glance down at herself.

  Emma had always been lean. She’d filled out some since the last time I saw her. Her hips were wider and her breasts were definitely bigger. Likely from having a son. Her husband might have wanted the big fake tits like the woman I’d met a few hours before, but to me, there would never be anyone who could match Emma’s beauty. She’d always commanded my attention.

  I’d often wonder what it would be like to see her again after all the years apart. Part of me dreaded it. Another part of me wanted it.

  There were so many years between us, and the circumstances of this reunion hung heavily in the air. But still, even with all that, I couldn’t stop staring at her. She tipped her face down, and the light caught the smattering of freckles over her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose. How many times had I traced them with my fingertip? How many kisses had I planted on her beautiful lips? How many times had I been lost inside her?

  The sick thing was—I wanted her today just as much as I did the day I left.

  How monstrous was it to want the wife of one of my childhood friends while he lay in the county morgue? It was fucked up by any standards.

  And yet . . .

  Emma looked around the bar and wrapped her arms around herself. With a sudden burst of realization, I got off the barstool. “Come on, let’s get you home. It’s too damn cold in here.”

  “I can go,” she said, getting off her own stool. “You’re busy here.”

  I smiled. “Busy drinking, you mean?”

  “One way to keep warm,” she said softly.

  Heat charged the space between us and before I could stop myself, my hands were reaching for her.

  “Damn, I’ve missed you.” With Emma in my arms, a small part of my world shifted back into place, and for one delirious moment I could almost pretend that the horrific events of the last two days hadn’t happened. Hell, that the events of the past eight years hadn’t happened. If we could just freeze time back to those summer days before I shipped out. It was Emma and me against the world. Back when I thought she’d be there waiting for me when I got home.

  Emma clung to me like a drowning person on a life raft. Her fingers dug into my shoulders as her body wracked with sobs. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled into my chest.

  My fingers worked through her hair, getting caught in the tangled strands. “Don’t be.”

  A moment later, she pulled away and released me. My body instantly ached to have her against me. I knew it was wrong to feed that desire. Knowing it didn’t seem to go very far toward stopping it. Emma looked up at me, tears pooled in her eyes, and it took every ounce of strength to keep myself from kissing her. I wanted—no, needed—everything to fade to black. Being with Emma would take it all away.

  “I should go,” she whispered.

  I followed her to the door and opened it for her. She glanced up at me and then hurried through. We walked down the sidewalk in silence until a car backfired a few streets over. Emma jumped a foot from the sidewalk and yelped at the loud sound. I surged forward and wrapped my arms around her. She crumpled against me, and I clung tightly to her. “It’s okay, baby. It’s just a car.” I stroked her hair. “You’re going to be all right. You hear me?”

  She pulled out of my arms and stalked ahead of me. She whipped around, her face a twisted mix of rage and pain under the soft glow of the streetlight. “God, I’m such a mess. How can I convince my son that everything is fine when I can’t even contain myself?”

  “Em, come on.” I took a step toward her. “You’re a great mother.”

  “How do you know?” she snapped. “You haven’t even been here!”

  Her words sliced through me, and I planted my feet.

  She dropped her eyes to the sidewalk between us and shook her head softly. “I’m sorry. God, I sound like a lunatic. Completely unhinged. I’m sorry, Dylan. I’m just really tired.”

  “Let’s get you upstairs.”

  She allowed me to lead her to the side door and up the stairs. The apartment over the diner was 2B, but she veered away to the one across the hall. “Tommy’s still with my mom and sister. You remember Kate?”

  “Of course.” Kate was her younger sister, nearly a decade between them. We hadn’t grown up together the way Emma and I had, but she was a little kid when Emma and I dated in our teens.

  “Thank you for walking me up.”

  “You’ll let me know if you need anything?”

  “Sure. If I think of anything else, I’ll let you know, too.”

  Emma paused at the door and raked her fingers through her long hair. With a flick, she tossed it over her shoulder. Her eyes moved across my chest and then up to my face. Underneath my t-shirt, my skin warmed where her eyes trailed. I’d put on thirty pounds of muscle since the last time I’d seen her. My face had changed, too. I’d been reminded of that when I saw the old photos in my parents’ living room. The mantle was packed with pictures from the past. Front and center was the official Navy photo snapped after I’d sworn in. I’d been a few months over eighteen and almost found it hard to recognize myself compared to the version of myself I saw in the mirror each morning.

  Emma seemed to be struggling with that reconciliation as well.

  She wavered, moving forward just to move back again. One hand went to the doorknob, and it almost looked like she was using it as an anchoring point. “Despite the circumstances, I’m really glad you’re back, Dylan. It’s been a long time—too long.”

  “Yeah, it’s been a while.” The few times I’d been home I’d managed to avoid seeing Emma and Tommy.

  Emma ducked her chin and when she looked back up at me, fresh tears shone in her eyes. “Do you ever wonder—”

  I waited a moment, wondering if she’d finish her thought. “Do I ever wonder what?”

  She gave a slight shake of her head. “Nothing. Forget it.”

  I tipped her chin up with the tips of my fingers. Her skin was so soft it took everything to not let my fingers continue up her delicate jawline, over her freckled cheeks, and brush away the remnants of tears still clinging there. There wasn’t a trace of makeup on her face, but she looked just as beautiful as she had all dolled up on prom night our senior year. She hadn’t changed. Not to me. She was still the same long-legged beauty who ran wild through my dreams. It didn’t matter how far I wandered from home. Emma was always there with me. The piece of her that had always been mine was still tucked away inside me.

  “Do I wonder what would’ve happened if I never left? Is that it?”

  She pulled a corner of her lip in between her teeth and considered me.

  “Of course, I do,” I said before she confirmed the question. “Especially now. Would Jimmy have been gunned down if I’d stayed? All this shit you’re talking about with guns and drugs and prostitutes—” I cut myself off as emotion rose and thickened my voice. “Yeah. I wish I’d been here. I wouldn’t have stood for that shit. Maybe if I’d stayed, he’d still be alive. He and Tommy both
.”

  Emma’s eyes slid closed at the sound of her husband’s name. “Don’t, Dylan.”

  “You asked the question.”

  “Forget it. It was a stupid question.”

  “Emma, look at me.”

  She did as I asked.

  “This isn’t your fault. It isn’t my fault, either. We can’t torture ourselves like this. It’s not going to fix anything. All we can do is figure out what the fuck happened and make the people responsible pay for what they did. That’s not on you. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Dylan, I don’t think you should get involved in all this.”

  I dropped my hand from her face and braced it against the doorframe. “What do you expect me to do, Emma? Bury Jimmy, stick around to help my parents, and then go back to the desert like nothing ever happened? That’s not an option.”

  “You’re going back?”

  I stared at her. “Of course, I am.”

  “Right.” The disappointment in her voice cut deep and twisted. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Em…”

  “No, no. Forget it. It was dumb.” She waved a hand and reached for the doorknob again.

  I grabbed her hand and backed her up against the wall. Her eyes went wide as they locked onto mine, and her breath hitched in her chest. Before I could stop and ask myself what I was doing, my lips were on hers, claiming what had once been mine. She pushed against me as my body melded to hers. Her hands clung to me, this time desperate and frantic. My tongue slid along the seam of her lips, and she opened them to me. The kiss deepened, and Emma moaned softly. I could have her, in an instant, I could have her stripped naked and in my bed.

  The images of her writhing and moaning my name slammed into my mind, and I reared back, breaking the kiss like a shattered glass. Emma slapped a hand against her mouth as she regained control of her heavy breathing. I rubbed a hand over the back of my neck and pivoted, ready to bolt.

  The door opened. Emma jumped back and we both stared down at Kate, dressed in a blue bathrobe. “Dylan?” She blinked, as though I were some kind of mirage. “I didn’t know you were—well, I’m so sorry for what happened to Jimmy.”

  “Thank you, Kate.”

  Emma took a step back. “I should get inside and check on Tommy. Thanks again for walking me home, Dylan.”

  “Of course.” I gave them a quick nod. “Goodnight, ladies.”

  “Goodnight.”

  Emma slipped inside the apartment and Kate, after giving me another long stare, silently shut the door behind them. Every part of me was aching from the kiss, but I was equally horrified at the thought of what might have happened if Kate hadn’t appeared when she did. Would we have ended up in Emma’s vacant apartment? Tangled together in the bed that was barely cooled from the last time she’d shared it with her husband.

  Fuck me. What the hell am I doing?

  Emma was so off limits it wasn’t even funny. There was no way I could let myself get that close to plowing over the line again. It would be a mistake that would haunt us both for the rest of our lives. It didn’t matter that before she married Tommy she’d been my girl. That was the past. It didn’t change the fact that she still wore a wedding ring on her left hand that hadn’t been placed there by me.

  Thirty days. That’s all I had. I had a lot to accomplish and not a lot of time in which to do it. I didn’t have time to be distracted by Emma. I needed to be her friend, support her in whatever way I could, and then bid her farewell. Possibly for the last time.

  Luckily, if there was one thing I was good at, it was keeping my head in the mission.

  Chapter Six

  Dylan

  “You think we can get it done before tonight?” Uncle Paddy asked as he came in from the storage room with a can of paint.

  I reached across the wooden slab bar. “Hand over that can, and we’ll do our damndest.”

  Uncle Paddy passed the can of paint to me. “This is the wall color. We had some leftover after we did it up last time.”

  I’d spackled over the bullet holes in the wall, and the plaster was just about dry to the touch. A few coats of paint and it would be like nothing had ever happened. A few of the Malloy cousins had come over early in the morning to rip up the thin carpet that covered the dining room floor where Jimmy had placed the pool table and a majority of the tables. A beautiful hardwood floor lay underneath, but Uncle Paddy said the carpet was there to protect it from scratches. Something about resale value. Personally, I figured it would look nicer with the dark wood showing throughout, but it wasn’t my bar. It was only my job to get it up and running for the wake later that night.

  The official funeral would be held in the following days, once the arrangements could be made, but we would honor Jimmy with an Irish wake as soon as night fell.

  As I continued sweeping behind the bar, I briefly wondered if Emma would show up. It seemed obvious that she would want to stop by and pay her respects. I only hoped I hadn’t driven her away. Still, right or wrong, the burning kiss and the feel of her body against mine had me stirring all through the night.

  “I went to the station this morning,” Paddy volunteered as he cracked open the lid on the paint can.

  I went still. “You did?” Must have been when I’d hit Kelly’s Boxing Gym to spend an hour pounding the bag and skipping rope. I couldn’t go soft while I was home, and I’d decided it was a good way to start my day and try to wear out the misery that built up during the night.

  “I have some buddies over there. I cut their hair and sometimes they come into the bar.”

  I moved the broom over the floor. “What’d they say? Any news?”

  Uncle Paddy heaved a sigh. “Not much that’s of use. Someone in the neighborhood saw the getaway car. When the cops canvassed the area, they said they wrote down the part of the plate they could get. Luckily, one of the security cameras at the corner store picked up a car with the same last four numbers and the cops think it must be the one.”

  I turned toward Paddy. “That’s great. Did they pull the info on the registration?”

  His face fell. “Unfortunately, no. Seems it was stolen.”

  “Shit.” I went back to sweeping. “Maybe they can at least track it down and get prints. DNA or something to nail these fuckers.”

  “Afraid not. They found the car this morning.”

  My heart went still. “And . . .?”

  “It was down by the docks. Burnt to a crisp. Looks like it was deliberate.”

  I twisted the broom handle until the friction burned my palms. “Fuck!”

  “They’ll keep looking, son. At least they’re putting it at the top of their priority list. Lot of times this shit gets chalked up to gang violence and is swept under the rug.”

  I shook my head. “Is that what it is, though?”

  I craned around and looked at my uncle. He was a mirror image of my father, just a few years younger. The two of them had the same salt and pepper hair, large noses, and ears that stuck out a little farther than most. The eyes were the most striking similarity. A color of gray that could be light and friendly but turn to thunderstorms in a split second.

  “Emma told me that she thought Tommy and Jimmy might have been getting into some trouble. You know anything about it?”

  Paddy pushed up from his crouched place on the ground where he’d been assembling his painting supplies. “Listen, son,” he started with a heavy sigh. “It’s not been the same since you left.”

  My jaw tensed.

  “Jimmy got into a little trouble a few years back.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “Money trouble. He was riding high after he won this place off Frankie . . .” Paddy paused to shake his head, though I wasn’t sure if it was directed at his own son or Jimmy. Paddy was a dabbler. His barbershop, a few investment properties he rented out, then he owned the bar for a few years before turning it over to Frankie, the one deal he regretted. “Anyway, he made some bad debts. Got in over his hea
d. The more he lost, the more he bet. He figured he’d win eventually and pay it all off.”

  My hands fisted around the broom so tight I could’ve snapped it clean in two. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

  Uncle Paddy frowned at me. “Lad, you had bigger things to worry about. You need a clear mind to be doing what you do.”

  I bristled at how he explained it as though it were new information to me. “I would’ve helped him.”

  “I know. We all knew that. I told Jimmy he needed to come clean with your folks. You and me both know your pops would have helped him clear this shit up.”

  “Or I would have.”

  Uncle Paddy nodded. “He didn’t want help, Dylan. He insisted on doing it himself. You know how he could be. Stubborn.”

  “What happened? You think this is retaliation for a bad debt? Hard to collect money off a corpse.” I winced at my own harsh words.

  “I don’t know what happened. He wouldn’t tell me. All I know is something changed. One day he’s walking around scared of his own shadow and the next, he’s buying a new car and dating some woman from the other side of the tracks.”

  I frowned and my brows furrowed together. “Where did he get the cash?”

  “I don’t know. I figured he won some tournament or high stakes game.”

  “What about his crowd? Did that change? Obviously, Tommy was around, but who else? There must have been new people hanging around. Where did Tara come from?”

  “No one knows where Tara came from. He said he met her at a bar when he was in New York City. They were long distance for a little while then she moved here. Aside from that, I know he was working with a couple new suppliers for the bar. Business was good, and Jimmy needed a hand. The barbershop was running like clockwork. I have a couple guys working the extra chairs for me so I came on as a part-time manager a few years back. Help the kid out, ya know. Did the ordering, kept tabs on inventory. It was second nature to me, and I liked being back in the game. I got a few visits from the regular suppliers who said he’d torn up the contracts. I asked him about it, but he just said he found better deals. There wasn’t much I could do.”