Running Scared Part 12

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

"Jamaica's an island."

"Guess that's a 'no.'"

"Daegan-"

"Listen, Bibi, just step a little harder on the pedal under your right foot and drive away."

"Why do you hate me?"

He barked out a laugh. "Take a guess."

"I said I'm sorry."

"Fine. You're sorry," he said angrily without glancing in her direction. "Listen, I don't even know you and that's the way I'd like to keep it." He glanced skyward, past the sharp angles of fire escapes and the high brick walls scarred by graffiti. Some of the boarded-over tenements were nearly two hundred years old and had once housed Irish immigrants when they first set foot on American soil-Sullivans and O'Rourkes of generations gone by. The Sullivan family had thrived in the new land, working, saving, buying wisely, and ama.s.sing a fortune, while the O'Rourkes, for the most part, had become laborers generation after generation. As his mother toiled in the textile factory, so would he in some other dead-end O'Rourke job. He might even drink himself to death as his granddad had.

Clouds, as gray as his thoughts, scudded across a sky that was darkening as night approached.

Bibi was driving beside him, keeping pace, her window rolled down, her blue eyes stormy. She, a Sullivan, would never know an empty stomach or a thirst for money so powerful he was willing to sell his soul to break the cycle of O'Rourke bad luck.

Maybe Bibi, in her need, could offer him a way out, but then he'd have to swallow his much-prized pride.

"What have I done that's so wrong?"

"Set me up."

"I...I didn't mean to."

"Cruel joke, Bibi."

"It wasn't supposed to be."

"Sure it was."

"But I didn't know it," she said. "Really, Daegan, don't despise me because of Stu's perverted sense of humor."

This was a mistake. "I don't despise you."

"You act like it."

For the love of G.o.d, he nearly felt sorry for her. What was wrong with him? She was putting on an act, using her endless female charms to try and find a way to humiliate him again.

"What if I told you I want to know you?" she demanded.

"I'd say you were a bored rich girl looking for a cheap thrill."

"I'm not."

He didn't answer, just kept walking. What a sight they must look, him greasy and tired from a long day at the fuel company, her impeccably well groomed as she wheeled her expensive car through the narrow, refuse-filled alleys. A cat scrambled out of their path and watched from the top of a trash bin.

Bibi sighed loudly. "I do understand, you know. I don't fit in either. Never have. Stuart and Collin are always together, laughing and talking and keeping secrets. Alicia's a first-cla.s.s b.i.t.c.h and Bonnie's just a kid."

"What do you care?" he threw back at her and the question ricocheted through his mind. What do you care, O'Rourke? Why even keep up this conversation? What do you care, O'Rourke? Why even keep up this conversation?

"I don't like being left out."

"It's not so bad." Christ, the irony of it. Now he was trying to make her feel better about some tiff she'd had with her s.h.i.t of a brother and cousin. "Why don't you go and lay all this on Alicia?" He reached into his jacket pocket for a pack of cigarettes and shook one out.

"We don't get along."

"What a shame." He couldn't keep the sarcasm from his voice.

"I was hoping we could be friends."

"No you weren't. You're not that stupid."

"You really are a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, you know that, O'Rourke?"

The same old bad taste climbed up his throat. "So I've been told."

"Don't take it to heart."

He jabbed a cigarette into the corner of his mouth. "Why're you interested?"

"Because you're part of the family-the interesting part," she said boldly. "And I want to know you better."

"Why?"

Her smile was sincere. "Believe it or not, I think I like you."

"Jesus, quit kidding yourself!" He clicked his lighter to his cigarette and, as the tobacco caught flame, drew in a deep calming drag. "You just find me amusing right now."

"Maybe, but that's good enough for me," she said as she gunned the engine and the Corvette leaped forward, nearly knocking him over as she sped through the alley.

"Getting to know me is a mistake," he muttered, but she was already gone, the taillights of her expensive car flashing bright red in the alley ahead. His eyes thinned against the smoke as he thought. No doubt she'd be back. She had that stubborn look about her, one that said she didn't give up easily.

So what the h.e.l.l was he gonna do with her?

He wasn't wrong. A week later she showed up, waiting for him after work, her rear propped against the hood of her shiny car as he ended his shift and started walking home.

Homer Kroft nudged him in the ribs with an elbow. "Looks like you got yourself a little piece of uptown."

"Shut up."

"When you're through with her-"

Daegan spun then, grabbed the older man's arm. "Give it a rest, man!" he ordered, his teeth clenched so hard they ached.

"Okay, okay." Homer raised his hands in mock surrender. "Jesus H. Christ, back off." He wandered off toward the bus station and Daegan approached his cousin.

"I thought I told you to leave me alone," he growled as he walked up to her, ignoring the wolf whistles from some of the guys during the shift change.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

She c.o.c.ked her head to one side and smiled. "Oh, I don't know, maybe I'm just a natural m.a.s.o.c.h.i.s.t. I can't help but hang out with people who don't like me."

"I never said that." Or had he? He couldn't remember.

"Then let me buy you a cup of coffee or a drink or something." She opened the car door.

He laughed. "I'm not going to fall for that again."

"You can drive," she said, holding the keys in front of his face, letting the metal dangle and clink provocatively before his eyes.

He didn't know what to say. Was she joking? The car was powerful and fast. His throat went dry with antic.i.p.ation. His fingers itched to grab the keys. "You're not serious."

"'Course I am."

"But-" He looked down at his greasy overalls and felt worlds apart from her. The way he wanted it.

"Don't worry about it. The car's been dirty before." His heart started pounding hard and fast at the thought of wrapping his fingers around the steering wheel, tromping on the accelerator, and feeling the surge of power that came with all that horsepower. Then he thought of his mother. Nothing the Sullivans gave was without a price-a high price.

"What do you want, Bibi?" he asked suddenly.

"Just to get to know you."

"Oh, h.e.l.l!"

"I'm not lying," she said, and he touched her then, grabbed her wrist and tried to see into her mind, but the door was closed and the only impression he received was the quick beat of her pulse and the sensation that she was hoping to do something wild and unconventional, something that was against all of Daddy's rules.

Seduced beyond his power to say no, he licked suddenly dry lips. This is a mistake, O'Rourke, This is a mistake, O'Rourke, his rational mind insisted, but desire overruled logic and he lost the mental battle. He stared into her eyes and realized she knew she had him just where she wanted him. "Where would we go?" he asked. his rational mind insisted, but desire overruled logic and he lost the mental battle. He stared into her eyes and realized she knew she had him just where she wanted him. "Where would we go?" he asked.

Her smile hinted at s.e.x and mystery. "Wherever you want, Daegan. It's your call. I'm just along for the ride."

Chapter 8.

"You're making a fool of yourself. En garde!" En garde!" Stuart lunged at Bibi, the tip of his foil nicking her shoulder as she parried, her fencing shoes squeaking on the old hardwood floor of the gym. Stuart lunged at Bibi, the tip of his foil nicking her shoulder as she parried, her fencing shoes squeaking on the old hardwood floor of the gym.

"What else is new?" Thrusting forward, she tried to gain the advantage, but he dodged her blow and she sliced at empty air. Again. d.a.m.n, but he was good. Always a natural athlete, Stuart had continually bested her at sports, academics, popularity, conversation, you name it. Several years older, with the edge of testosterone to keep him at an advantage, Stuart couldn't help making her feel that she, his younger sister, was vastly inferior. Yet she kept trying to beat him, no matter what the contest, so today she'd agreed to this stupid fencing match Of course, she was losing.

"I've seen you with O'Rourke," he said, clicking his tongue. "Bad form."

"Seen me?" she repeated, stunned just as his foil drew a nasty line down the front of her metallic plastron. She'd thought she'd been sneaky, that no one besides her and Daegan had a clue.

"Ah, ah, ah." With a final lunge, he won the match "Never let an opponent destroy your concentration. Sorry, Bibi. You lose." He tossed off his mask and gloves. His foil clattered to the floor. Snagging a towel from an ancient hook near the window, he swiped at the sweat that had drizzled from his scalp and flattened his usually neat hair. "As for O'Rourke, you'd better leave him be. He's trouble."

"I don't think so." Bibi fingered the b.u.t.ton on her foil, bowing the thin blade. It had taken all of her nerve to seek Daegan out again and his reception to her had been about as warm as Nantucket Sound in December, but slowly he'd come around, met her for coffee a couple of times, only insisting that she let him buy. He'd become less hostile, not so d.a.m.ned brooding and cynical, and she'd seen past his facade, through his tough act to a glimmer of the boy behind the guarded and wary mask, a side to him that she'd found refreshing. "Besides, he doesn't even know I'm alive," she lied, walking over to the window and staring outside through the thick gla.s.s. The private gym was spread over the top floor of their house. From this, the fourth floor, she stared down to Louisburg Square, where the first pale rays of sunshine were slanting through branches of trees just starting to leaf.

Stuart rotated the kinks from his neck as Bibi pulled off her mask. "Oh, I bet he knows you're alive and has probably estimated how much you're worth. He's under-educated but far from stupid. We're the ones who should act as if he doesn't exist."

"Change of heart?"

"I just don't like you getting involved with him."

She tossed her hair off her shoulders. "I'm not involved with him or anyone else."

"Don't lie, Bibi." Leaning a shoulder against the old window ledge, he rubbed his chin and sighed. "You're so poor at it. Anyway, I've seen you with him and so has Collin."

"Collin?" Her head snapped up and she caught a naughty glint of amus.e.m.e.nt in her brother's eye.

"That's right. He wasn't too pleased, called O'Rourkea...let me get this straight...'a dumb-a.s.s lowlife who just wants to see what it's like to get into a rich girl's pants and drive a car he'll never be able to afford.'"

"What?" Bibi whispered, horrified. It was one thing for Stuart to know what she was doing, but not Collin. At least not yet. So far, nothing had happened between Daegan and her. Not that it would. What she did with him was no one's business.

"Well, something along those lines." He scratched a shoulder. "Collin hates the b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Somehow thinks he might usurp his right as Frank's firstborn or something." His smile was cold. "Silly, isn't it? Just like his old man."

"You started it by taking Daegan to the summer house."

"And it was fun, admit it. The collective look on our cousins' faces was priceless! I thought Alicia was going to s.h.i.t her silk drawers, and Collin, d.a.m.n but he was nearly apoplectic."

"What about Daegan? How do you think he feels?"

"Who cares? Oh! I get it. You You care. Perpetual friend of the underdog, righter of wrongs, doer of all that is good in the world." care. Perpetual friend of the underdog, righter of wrongs, doer of all that is good in the world."

"Not really."

"But that's what you'd like us all to think now, isn't it?" Stuart said as he scooped up his foil as well as hers and hung them neatly in the gla.s.s case at the far end of the cavernous room. Weapons of all shapes and sizes were displayed in the cupboard. He fingered a particularly wicked knife with a curved blade. "You'd like us all to believe that you have lofty goals when even you know that you're a fake."

"I'm not-"

"Oh, shove it, Bibi. You don't have to prove anything to me. I know how your mind works and love you anyway." He locked the cabinet and turned to face her, his features set in that superior, don't-question-me-as-I'm-d.a.m.ned-close-to-being-a-deity expression that she'd come to loathe.

She bristled. "Don't you have better things to do than spy on me?"