Chapter 12
Amy
I drove up the wide, open street in the hills on the outskirts of the city. The place was drenched in money and littered with grand houses, occupied by the rich and famous of the city. None moreso, however, than my father's excessively grand palace.
The entrance to his driveway was about halfway up the street, and his entire compound stretched back over several football fields beyond the street. I cruised up and slowly turned my car into the drive and towards the main gate. It was the first time I'd come here since I returned and now, as then, my dad wasn't expecting me.
The gate was firmly shut as I rolled in and slowed to a stop outside, ready for inspection. It was the same guard as before, however, and this time he recognized me quickly.
“Miss O'Brien, is your father expecting you?”
I shook my head. “Is he in?”
“He is.”
“Well let me through. I need to talk to him.”
He fiddled around in his little control room for a second before the gate creaked and slowly opened in front of me.
I drove forward up the path as it winded towards the mansion ahead of me. Despite the progress I'd been making with my father, I still felt weighed down at the sight of it. It wasn't somewhere I wanted to see again.
I noticed a couple of guards lingering around and patrolling the property as I went. They always seemed to be dressed in black, and always wearing sunglasses whether it was sunny or not. Today, dark clouds were dominating the sky, but they still kept to their predetermined outfits anyway.
I saw them look over at me as I went, one of them holding his hand to his side, preparing to pull a pistol out if he needed to. This place, it seemed, was always on high alert, and whether that was my dad's paranoia, or a genuine threat, I didn't know.
A man came down to open my door when I pulled into the main parking area just outside the mansion. He was holding a radio of some kind in his hand, and had probably just been notified of my arrival.
“Miss O'Brien, what a surprise.”
I stepped out of my car. “Where's my father?”
“Um, he's in his office miss. I'm not sure he wishes to be disturbed.”
I started walking towards the door as he spoke, not interested in whether he wanted to be disturbed or not. The guard attempted to call me back, but there was little he could do, and he knew it.
I marched straight forward and into the house, pushing the large main door open, and continuing on into the wide hall. My dad's office was in the left wing, through the hall and towards the end of a long corridor. Or, at least, it had been when I used to live here.
I could hear a single voice inside as I approached. It sounded like he was on the phone, and was shouting down the line at someone. It was like I was tapping into an old memory of my childhood, hearing my dad roaring at someone on the phone from inside his office. I'd heard it so many times before, and never wanted to hear it again.
As I lifted my hand to knock on the door I stopped, a curiosity building inside me. I could just about hear my father's words through the door, muffled by the wood, but just about decipherable.
“I want the culprit found!” he roared. “Cooper, Logan, and Lithgow have all been murdered. Someone's doing it, someone's taking them out. I need to know who it is.”
There was a pause as my dad listened down the line.
“The FBI are getting nowhere with this. I know because my sources have told me! Do whatever you need to do to find the truth, or it'll be me turning up dead next time.”
I heard him slam the phone down with a loud crack.
Cooper? Logan? Lithgow? I'd read about all of their deaths over the last year or so, they were all high profile businessmen in this city, just like my father. Cooper and Jude's dad, Charles Logan, had been found murdered in similar circumstances, both found stabbed and shot to death in hotel rooms. Lithgow, though, well he'd never been found. He'd gone missing a while ago and hadn't been seen since. For a billionaire, that was highly unusual, and highly suspicious.
I stood behind the door, still trying to turn things over in my mind. What did my father have to fear? Was he linked to these men in some way? I knew he worked with Charles Logan, but the others? Why would someone be killing them?
Finally, though, I realized why my dad seemed so paranoid, why he always had extra security with him. It had been a while since those murders, but it had clearly got to him. My father, Conor O'Brien, living in fear. I knew it must have been killing him not knowing who'd killed them all, not knowing whether he was next on the list.
I knew, also, why he wanted me to have security as well. If he was a target, maybe I was too? But then, nothing had happened to him. Those murders had been a while ago now, and the dust had settled. If someone had wanted to kill him, they'd have done so already. He'd become consumed by it all, certain that someone was after him. I guess, after years living the life he had, it was inevitable that he'd have enemies.
I lifted my hand up to the door again, this time knocking lightly.
“WHAT?” came his booming voice through the door.
“It's Amy dad, I need to speak to you.”
I heard his chair move suddenly and quick footsteps come towards me. The key turned in the lock and the door opened quickly. His face looked strained and worried.
“Amy, what are you doing here? Are you OK? Is something wrong?”
I kept my expression fairly blank. I was here for a reason, and what I just heard wasn't going to change that.
“Nothing's wrong dad. I wanted to ask you something, and I want the truth.”
“Yes?” he asked quickly. “Come in darling, sit down.”
I walked in and he shut the door behind me.
“So, what's the matter?”
“No lies, remember dad. I want the truth, OK?”
He nodded. “Of course.”
“Did you have Jude Logan beaten up?” I asked it outright and watched him closely for any signs of deceit. His eyes flickered briefly, a guilt inside them.
“Jude Logan? Why do you ask?” His voice was turning defensive.
“It's just a hunch, dad.” I always trusted my gut.
“Why would I have any cause to do that Amy?”
“You know why. I know what you're like, I know how protective you can be.”
“I really don't know what you're talking about honey,” he said. “Are you seeing him or something?”
“I hoped I might, yeah,” I said quickly. “He turned me down.”
“Oh sweetheart, that's a shame.” His tone was so contrived. “Well I'm sure you can do a lot better than one of those Logan boys. None of them are good enough for you Amy.”
“Is anyone?” I asked.
“Not many, not for my little girl.”
“And that's just the problem! I'm not your little girl any more. I'm a grown woman dad, and I can date whoever the hell I want. STOP trying to interfere.”
He stared at me, his eyes beginning to stiffen. “You will NOT see that boy,” he growled. It was the old version of my father creeping back out. I wondered how long it would take.
“So it was you!” I said. “You're the reason he told me he doesn't want to see me. What the hell did you do?”
His facade was fading now as he spoke, his eyes beginning to seethe. “I warned him not to go near you again. He's scum, like the rest of his family.” He wasn't hiding his true nature now. He was like a tamed beast suddenly gone wild.
I stood up, my eyes wide. “Who the hell do you think you are!” I shouted. “You can't go round manipulating everything like that. How did you even know I'd seen him. Have you been having me followed or something?” I said it without believing it, until I saw his expression.
“You have, haven't you! You've had your men on me the entire time?!”
“It's only for protection Amy. I'm not spying on you, I'm just making sure you're OK.”
“Not spying? Just STOP getting involved in my f*cking life. And you expect me to stick around when you do something like this? How dare you.”
I was letting it all come out. I'd never spoken to my father like this.
“HOW DARE I?” he roared, standing up straight in front of me. “You will do as I tell you Amy. You're my daughter, and you'll show me some f*cking respect.”
His voice was growing intimidating, booming loudly and pushing me backwards slightly.
“It was a mistake coming back,” I said quietly. “I wish I'd never returned.”
I turned around and started making my way towards the door. “Come back here Amy. Don't you dare walk away from me.”
I didn't listen, but kept walking away, my father's voice growing louder as I went.
“Don't you leave, don't you f*cking leave me again.”
I felt his arm grab mine as I opened the door. His hand gripped hard around my bicep, but I pulled away.
“Please, Amy,” he said. His tone had lost it's fight now, his voice almost pleading. “Please don't leave. I'm sorry honey, I made a mistake.”
I didn't turn back but kept on going. How could I trust him now? How could I know he wasn't just manipulating me again, telling me what I wanted to hear?
I stormed forward, leaving him standing behind me in my wake, my mind in turmoil. I half expected the guards to grab me as I walked out of the house, but they did nothing but watch me pass, climb into my car, and drive away.
….
Jude
I sat alone at the table in my poker club, a whiskey in front of me and a freight train running through my mind. I could see my faint reflection in a painting on the wall ahead. I looked a mess, an absolute f*cking mess.
A loud banging sounded from the metal door above me. I wasn't expecting anyone down here today.
I stood painfully and creaked towards the stairs, climbing slowly as the banging sounded again.
“All right, all right,” I said as I ascended. “Give me a second, will ya.”
The banging stopped and I reached for the door to open it up. There, standing in the rain, was Amy, her hair sodden and her make-up streaking down her face.
“Amy, what....what are you doing here?” I asked, my voice soft at the sight of her. She looked upset and angry at the same time. I wasn't looking for a fight.
“I wanted to see you,” she sniffed. “I need to talk to you.”
I looked up the alley, checking for anyone who might be following her, but there was no one there.
“Um, OK, come in,” I said, tentatively, still looking out onto the street to be sure she was alone. This girl was putting my damn life at risk every time she came to me, and she didn't even know it. Somehow, though, I didn't care. No, I was happy she was here.
She walked in past me and down the stairs.
“No game today?” she said, her voice slightly brittle.
“I needed a break,” I said, “maybe tomorrow.”
I walked into the kitchen and came back out with a towel. “Here,” I said, “you look like you could use that.”
She took it and started dabbing her hair and face, her make-up smearing all over it.
“So what's going on, Amy? Why are you here?”
She finished drying herself and looked up at me. “I know why you said you didn't want to see me again. It's my father, isn't it. He's the one who did this to you?”
She lifted her hand to my face and brushed her fingers gently across my bruised cheek. “I'm so sorry Jude, for my father.”
I reached up and took her hand, pulling it away from my face. “So you know why I can't see you. He told me he'd kill me, Amy.”
“That's just his way, Jude. He'll threaten and maybe have you beaten up, but he'd never kill you over this. He's an overprotective, overbearing, thug at times, but he's also measured and calculated. He knows your family, he knows it's not worth the risk.”
“Yeah, right. I've experienced the guy's temper and I know what he's all about. I also know that he hates my family with a passion, so you'll forgive me if I don't quite believe you on that one.”
“Why does he hate your family? Didn't he work with your father before?”
“Look, that's something you wanna ask him Amy. The guy's a paranoid psycho, and I wouldn't put anything past him.”
Her eyes were set firm on me, trying to suss me out. “No, I'm asking you. Tell me what you mean.”
“Well, according to Crash, your dad thought that your mom was cheating on him...with my father.”
Her face contorted into a frown. “Bullshit. My mom would never cheat.”
“Yeah, well, that's all I heard. It's just a rumor maybe, I don't know. I know my dad wouldn't be stupid enough to do it either, so we're on the same page on that one.”
“So you think my dad hates your family because of some stupid rumor? My mom would never have cheated on him. Never.”
Her eyes looked hurt at the idea. Clearly they'd been close, before she died. That was another rumor I wasn't going to talk about – that her dad had killed her mom because he believed she was cheating on him. Frankly, I was in too deep already, and had no intention of making things worse.
I moved forward towards her and pulled her chin up to look at me. “I'm sure it's not true, Amy. Like I said, it's just a rumor.”
Her eyes softened slightly at my touch, and she nodded lightly. It looked like I'd touched at a deep wound, one that had never fully healed.
“My mom died when I was young too, you know,” I said. “I was only a kid, and she was killed in a car accident as well. I know how hard it is. I still miss her today.”
Her eyes were dampening now, a tear threatening to slide down her soft cheek. “It's just...being back here. It's why I left....to escape the memories. I don't like to think about it.”
“It's OK,” I said, pulling her in for a hug. “I understand. It must have been hard, not having that support. You're an only child aren't you?”
She nodded against my shoulder.
“I'm so sorry Amy. I can see why you left.”
She lifted her face up to mine and looked me deep in the eye. Her cheeks were wet now, tears building rivers down her face. “You're such a sweet guy. I thought, when you told me to go away, you didn't like me.”
I smiled consolingly. “I like you Amy, you know how much I like you. I'm sorry for that...I should have just told you the truth.”
“No, I can understand why you didn't. I guess my father told you not to? I'm sorry about him, I'll put it all right, get him off your back.”
I moved my hands up to her cheek, my thumb sliding up her face and wiping away her tears. “No, I think you should just leave, get away from him. He's not stable, Amy. He's poison, and you don't need that.”
“Do you want me to leave?” she asked quickly, her eyes sombre.
“Of course not. I've never wanted that.”
Her eyes lit at my words and she moved forward to kiss me, her lips salty and wet with tears. “I want you to take me,” Jude. “Take me now, right here on the poker table.”
She reached forward at my pants and undid the buttons, reaching down inside. “I want you now, Jude. I don't care what my father says, I want you.”
Her touch to my groin shot through me like a spark. Thoughts of Conor O'Brien and his threats quickly evaporated from my mind, my thoughts taken up by my need for this girl. My lust was once more enlivened as she groped at me with her hands, quickly pulling down my pants and dragging me forward by my shirt.
I exhaled deeply as she dropped to her knees and opened her mouth wide, her tongue and lips set lose on me. I didn't care if O'Brien knew, I didn't care if his men were outside, preparing to bust the door in and catch us in the act. No, I was lost to this addiction, this drug. Nothing else mattered right now as I lifted her back up and ripped open her shirt, unveiling her bra and heaving breasts.
I pushed her down onto the poker table and pulled off her skirt and panties, widening her legs and moving forward into her. I felt her writhe as I leaned over her, her thighs trembling as her hands ran over her chest. She screamed in pleasure and pulled me down to kiss her, wild like an animal in the heat of passion.
She was just as she'd been before: insatiable, sexy, confident. The way she moved her thighs and the look in her eye turned me on more than I'd ever been turned on by anyone. I knew, right then and there, that I'd never have the same sex as I was having with this girl. We connected, we fit, we gave each other pleasure that neither of us had ever experienced.
When we were finished we forgot our troubles for a while, bringing out a bottle of whiskey and talking like we did the first night we met. This time, however, it was all the truth, not some made up characters we were playing for the night.
No, she was Amy O'Brien, and I was Jude Logan.
She told me about her childhood and why she ran away. She talked about her adventures round the country, playing in poker clubs and casinos, traveling from place to place and meeting all sorts of different people.
As she spoke I felt both envious and saddened by what she was saying. Her life sounded full, yet empty. I'd never traveled and the idea of moving around playing poker was incredibly appealing. Staying in nice hotels, seeing incredible sights, playing poker every day without any responsibility or anything else to tie you down.
Yet it seemed a lonely existence as well. My family were everything to me, and I'd grown up surrounded by people. I had lots of friends, socialized often, and barely had a moment to reflect and ponder what else my life might be right now. Amy didn't have that. By the sounds of it, when her mom died, that part of her life began to dry up, leaving this emotionally detached girl, unwilling to let anyone in.
But she'd let me in. She'd opened up to me: emotionally, sexually. As she spoke, I realized that this was the first time she'd spoken of these things to anyone in years. I realized that I wasn't just another guy to her. I was special to her, and she was special to me.
We spoke and laughed for hours. I forgot about her dad, about his threats, about Crash and the same. I didn't care about them. I didn't care what anyone told me, I didn't care what threats I'd get, what beatings I'd have to take. I wanted this girl. I needed this girl. I'd do anything to have her.
When the bottle of whiskey was sunk I could tell her emotions were beginning to run high. She looked drained all of a sudden, the weight of everything coming down on top of her. I moved in to hug her and comfort her and she started crying in my arms. I didn't know why, or what she was crying over, so I just sat there next to her, my arms wrapped around her.
When she spoke next her voice was brittle and broken, the alcohol breaking her spirit.
“I don't know what to do Jude. My father, he'll never change, no matter what he says.”
“You could leave? You said it yourself, your life is on the road.”
Her streaming eyes were gazing up at me now. “But what about you. I don't want to leave you Jude.”
I smiled. Maybe it was just the drink talking, but it was exactly what I wanted to hear. “You don't have to leave me Amy, you just have to leave here, leave him. The world's a small place now. I can see you anywhere.”
A smile began growing on her face. “You'd come see me?”
“It doesn't matter where you go....I'll come see you.”
She smiled wider and hugged me tight. She seemed fragile now, the confident and self sufficient girl I'd started to know crumbling before my eyes. I'd broken through her defences, and she'd revealed her truest insecurities to me. There was no going back from that now.
I could see a conflict raging inside her, this frown beginning to appear on her face as if she was trying to work something out.
“Do you know two men called Cooper and Lithgow?” The question came from nowhere, causing me to sit back slightly. Those were two names with a special meaning.
I nodded.
“It's just that...I overheard my father on the phone. He thinks he's in danger from someone, that someone killed those men and...your father as well. Do you know anything about that?”
I kept my mouth shut, but just shook my head slowly. Her eyes were drifting as she thought, her nose crunched up. “I think he's just paranoid....he's always got lots of guards everywhere now, as if he thinks he's next on the hit list.”
“I wouldn't worry about it,” I said. “I'm sure he'll be fine.”
She breathed deep and smiled lightly, reassured by my words. Whatever had gone on, she was clearly concerned for him, for his safety. A man like Conor O'Brien, though, wouldn't be short on enemies.
But in this case, I knew there was nothing to worry about. It wasn't a hunch, or my way of trying to make her feel better. No, I knew who'd killed each of those men, and none of them were going to trouble Conor O'Brien.
It was something I never wanted to think about again, a sequence of events that had almost destroyed my family. It was my dad, Charles Logan, who'd had a man named Michael Cooper killed. He did it for revenge, for a business deal gone wrong long ago. That was my dad: he'd bottle things up, pretend to move on and forgive, and then strike. I loved him, but he was ruthless and callous, just like Conor O'Brien.
My father had been murdered in almost the exact same way – shot in an hotel room, twice through the chest. The cops and the FBI got nowhere with their investigation, so Crash and my dad's faithful private investigator, Jones, dug out the truth. As it turned out, a man named Walter Lithgow had killed my father. It was a pre-emptive strike against him, or so I was told. Apparently Lithgow had screwed dad over as well in the past, and was paranoid that dad was lining him up as he'd done with Cooper.
But Lithgow got what he deserved. It was Crash who saw to that. He'd uncovered the truth, and he was the one to gain revenge for our father's murder. It was the lowest point in our family's history, a period of revenge and plotting and murder and deceit. I only heard the barest of details down the grapevine through my brothers and, quite frankly, I'd never wanted to know any more. I wanted to forget about it all, pull a lid over everything and move on.
So now, here, when Amy mentioned her father's fears, I knew they were misplaced. The three men, my father included, had all died through petty infighting. They were old grievances over old business deals, and my father had been at the heart of it.
She hugged me and signed deeply, the alcohol and emotion of the day getting the better of her. Her eyes closed and I felt her body relax as she fell asleep, sliding down and resting her head in my lap.
“Sleep,” I whispered, “tomorrow's another day.”
….
Amy
My eyes creaked open and the light spilled into them. My shoulder ached from the awkward position I'd been sleeping in, but not as bad as my head. I leaned up to see Jude lying back in the chair, his head tilted to one side and his eyes closed.
I slowly tiptoed into the kitchen and poured a glass of water from the refrigerator. It was ice cold and soothing to my throat, which burned from excess whiskey drinking. I soaked a small towel and put it to my forehead, easing the heavy throb within.
Yesterday had been one of the most eventful days of my life, and not wholly in a good way. I'd had yet another fight with my dad, but had broken through with Jude. We'd talked for hours, and I'd spoke openly with him about things I'd never told anyone.
It felt natural with him, like I didn't have to hide anything about my past. He was understanding and disarming, willing to sit and listen to me as I grew progressively drunk and progressively melancholic. With anyone else I'd feel embarrassed now, embarrassed to have opened up so much and cried in his arms. But not him.
I walked back into the poker room and looked at him lying there. He was breathing lightly, this small smile etched on his face. He looked strangely peaceful, and beautiful, like a sleeping angel.
I crept forward to his office and opened the door, grabbing a piece of paper and pen. I started writing a short note, before putting it on the poker table beside him.
Jude, thanks for last night. It meant the world to me. I've gone to see my father. I know you think I should leave, but I have to try to talk to him. I'm not willing to throw in my hand quite yet.
Amy xxx
I looked one more time as Jude's sleeping face and leaned in to kiss his cheek.
“Thank you,” I whispered, before lightly stepping up the stairs and out into the early morning light.