Sequel: In Too Deep
Status: complete

Plausible Deniability

rounds and rounds

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Niall leads Aila down the stairs, a hand on her back—not as possessive as last night. More protective. Comforting. Her skin crawls, the memory of his hand pressing against her throat just under the surface, but she exhales slowly and forces the ghost away. She needs to trust he can keep his word.

“Where’s my father?” he whispers once he and Aila are in the foyer, and Robert leans in close to whisper that Bobby is in the billiards room with the others.

“If you wish to escape unseen, I suggest you make your exit now, sir.”

“If he asks, tell him I’m making the rounds and I told him about it last night, and he was too drunk to remember.”

“Of course you did, sir. I heard you with my own two ears.”

“You’re a good man, Robert.” Niall grins, patting the older man’s shoulder, then reaches for Aila’s hand. “Let’s go.”

She follows where he leads, her shoes in her hand as they slip across marble and out the front door. A giggle bubbles out of her while they sprint across the grass. He looks younger, freer. Hot sunshine dances on his dark hair, turning brown to gold, and his blue eyes sparkle when he looks back at her. Grass tickles at her bare feet; she wants to dig her toes in the green, feel the soil beneath. But Niall is tugging on her hand and leading her further from the house.

Someone’s parked a car just off the side of the road, and Aila clambers into the passenger seat while Niall slides in behind the steering wheel. She buckles up in time for him to peel away. Tires scream on asphalt; the back end of the car skids sideways then straightens out as Niall slams on the accelerator.

“I’m assuming your dad would be pissed if he knew we were doing this?” she yells over the wind whipping through the windows.

He laughs and shifts into a lower gear. The scenery stops blurring so much, and she can hear properly again. Niall grins as he holds the wheel with one hand, her hand with the other. “Oh, he’d have me head.”

“So why are we doing this? Niall, I don’t want you to get in trouble with him.”

“Darling,” he sighs, glancing at her, “your happiness is more important than whether my da and I have a go at each other. Besides, don’t we deserve this time, just us? I wanted to show you what you’re getting into. Also to apologise again for last night.”

She shifts in her seat, ignoring the way the seatbelt digs into the side of her neck, and lets her gaze trail over his profile. “I told you before not to put your hands on me like that. You didn’t listen to that warning. How could I trust it won’t happen again?”

“I know. I lost my temper. You have to understand, Aila. I’m always going to be worried—terrified—whenever you’re not by my side. I know what’s out there. You should know, too. If I can’t see you, my mind thinks of all the worst-case scenarios.”

“You said you barely trust yourself. Why?”

“I failed to keep you safe twice before.” His breath comes out in a shuddering sigh, and he squeezes her hand. “I won’t risk it again. I—I love you, too, and losing you at someone else’s hands would kill me.”

Don’t say that. Aila closes her eyes at the memory. The way his voice had sounded so pleading and broken, begging her not to tell him she loves him. She wonders why he’d said that last night as she fell asleep, when he can so easily return it today.

“I promise next time, I’ll wake you before I go. Just... Trust me enough to know I won’t do anything stupid or reckless. You know as well as I do that Tania would kill me herself then bring me back to life so you could have a go at me.”

He laughs, bright and pure and dispelling the haunted darkness in his eyes. The car slows as they reach the edge of the city, and Aila watches the commuter train trundle along its track. She’d be on that train right now, swaying with the carriage as she thought about Niall.

“So what’s on the agenda?” she asks with a quick look at him.

“I wasn’t lying when I said I had to make rounds. There’s a few shops I have to stop in at. You’re welcome to wait in the car.”

“I’m coming with you.”

The first shop is an outdoor grocer. Racks upon racks hold a myriad of spices, ethnic foods from around the world. Aila walks among the shelving, finger sliding along bottles and jars, and listens to Niall speaking to the proprietor. His voice is too quiet for her to make out the words, but she knows the tone so well. Commanding yet polite.

The second stop is full of electronics. She stays within feet of him here. The products hold no interest for her. His gaze cuts to her every so often, as if to make sure she is still here.

The third is a jewellery store. The man behind the counter grins when Niall walks through the door. His greasy black hair shines in the overhead lights, and his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. Beady and full of lecherous want, they trail along Aila’s body as she steps in behind Niall. The man claps his hands, acting like he hadn’t just sent shivers down her spine with his leer.

“Mister Horan, to what do I owe this honour? Come for gems? A ring, perhaps, for the beautiful lady?”

“Cut the shite, Boyeshki. You know why I’m here.”

Aila represses a shudder at the chill. Boyeshki flinches, nearly scrambles away from the counter. He stammers and trips over his words, but they do nothing to warm the air. A cold, slow smile spreads across Niall’s face, and he doesn’t look away from Boyeshki.

“Wait for me outside, darling.”

She nods and hurries to obey. The bell over the door jingles as she exits the shop. Pedestrians cross the street once they see her stood outside Boyeshki’s Jewels. She knows it’s so they don’t come near her. They know she’s with Niall, and it resulted in this. As terrified as they are of him, they all are just as fearful of her.

Aila swallows the hurt down, stares at the expanse of blue above, and pretends she doesn’t hear the screaming coming from inside the building.

“Where to now?” she asks once Niall joins her, wiping his hands on a red-stained handkerchief.

“I have one more shop to visit. You’ll enjoy this one.” He winks, wrapping an arm over her shoulders, and guides her to the car. “Did you—?”

“I heard nothing.”

His brow raises, but he doesn’t question the lie. Everyone on the street heard Boyeshki receiving his punishment. Everyone knows Niall showed his cruelty, the brutality he’s well-known for, and they know she’s now a part of it.

Maurice looks away from where he’s sliding hangers onto a rack, eyes widening. “Mister Horan!”

“Hello, Maurice. You remember my darling?”

“I do. It’s a pleasure to see you again, ma’am.”

“I’m happy to see you, too.” She glances at Niall then steps forward to embrace Maurice. “Thank you for watching over me even when I didn’t know it.”

“It was an honour to be trusted with your safety,” he murmurs into her ear, hugging her tightly.

Aila pulls away when curtain rings rattle on a rod. A woman smiles as she enters the main portion of the shop. Somehow, she is managing to carry a tower of clothing without dropping a single thing.

Her auburn hair has been pulled into a tight topknot, her tanned skin accentuated by the sunlight pouring through the windows. Gleaming brown eyes over high cheekbones, thin lips painted peach. Aila meets Niall’s gaze, and he nods.

“Aila, meet the lovely Noali. Noali, this is Aila.”

“Pleasure,” Noali says. Her voice sends a wave of peace over Aila; soft and lilting, it carries the warmth of an early spring morning. “We were so relieved to hear you were okay after... after what happened.”

Niall judges Aila toward a rack, murmuring, “Go pick something out, darling. I need to speak with Maurice.”

Aila dips her chin and does as he’s asked. Noali flutters to her side, and the women talk of the various choices before Aila. She does her best to not overhear Niall’s conversation. Her mind is still reeling from knowing he made Boyeshki scream like he had while Aila was barely twenty feet away.

“When Mister Horan rang us to ask us to keep an eye out for anything suspicious,” whispers Noali as she pushes aside a black lace dress, “I’ll admit I was afraid to become more involved than we already were. I’m sure you know how he doesn’t take kindly to failure.”

“I may have noticed he tends to have anger issues.”

Noali stifles a smile. “I won’t go so far as to say that. I also won’t deny you might be correct. But... I’m glad we did. That we’ve done our best to make sure you were protected as much as we could. As hard as he can be, I can see how you’ve softened him where it matters.”

“I just want to deserve him,” admits Aila. “He’s done a lot for me, and I feel like I’ve not done enough for him.”

“You love him. That’s all he needs. You’ve stayed despite knowing the truth. He hasn’t had anyone like that in—Well, since I’ve known him, he has been alone. Sure, he has his friends, but never anyone who’s held his heart like you do.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“He’s never been cruel to you two, has he?”

“No, ma’am. We knew his father, and our loyalty remains the same.” Noali pats Aila’s hand. “I appreciate your concern, but it is unnecessary. Mister Horan is rarely cruel without provocation. He may be cold, calculating, but he remains as fair as he can in what he does.”

“I’m glad I’ve met you and Maurice. If your husband ever gives me a discount again, though, I’ll be upset.”

Noali laughs and shakes her head. Telling Aila she will keep that in mind, she moves away to finish restocking the table with blouses. Aila blows out a breath and turns back to the clothing in front of her. She doesn’t want anything—not really. Nothing so trivial as a dress.

She meant it when she said she wanted to deserve Niall. To make him happy like he’s made her. He’s done wrong. So much wrong. And he hasn’t always been the most attentive or kind. He even made her fear for her safety, that she would die at his hands and he wouldn’t blink an eye. But she loves him enough to try.

I’m an idiot.

Aila and Niall leave without any purchases, though there is a leather bag in his hand. He tosses it on the floorboard at Aila’s feet, ducking down to kiss her quickly, before he rounds the car. His hand finds her as soon as he’s behind the wheel, and she squeezes his fingers.

She has to believe Noali is right, that loving Niall is all he needs to be happy. That loving him is all Aila needs to do.

Their disappearance goes noticed. Very much so. Niall and Aila have barely stepped through the doors of the manor when he stiffens beside her. She looks up, shrinks in on herself as Bobby glares. His cold eyes flit from her to Niall.

“You took her with you?”

If she didn’t know this family—what they really do—she wouldn’t be able to hear the undercurrent of rage. The ice punctuating each word of the question. She swallows thickly before glancing at her boyfriend. Niall rests his hand on her shoulder, leaning over to whisper in her ear.

“Go to the parlour, darling. I’ll be there in a moment.”

Bobby doesn’t move as Aila skirts past him. She imagines steam coming from his skin, but the mental image does nothing to amuse her. Not when she has no idea what the man is truly capable of. As soon as the door clicks closed, Niall is speaking.

“Yes, I took her with me.” Aila presses her ear to the wood, though there’s no need to. Niall’s voice is clear. Hard. “She should know what she’s getting into.”

Bobby snorts, and shoes scuff on the marble. He’s nearer to the door when he speaks, “And if she walks away because you were idiotic enough to tell her she can? What then? You’re risking everything just because you got your dick wet.”

Aila jumps at the loud thud against the door. She bites back a squeak even as she remains rooted to her spot. Someone lets out a strangled gasp. Holding her breath, she prays it isn’t Niall. Don’t let his father have put his hands on Niall. Please. A shudder runs down her spine as she waits.

“You ever talk about her like that again, I’ll do worse,” he snarls, and Bobby exhales a raspy laugh. It doesn’t sound much like choking anymore. “I don’t give a damn that you’re my father. No one disrespects the woman I love.”

“She’s just a girl you met at the bar, Niall. She’s nothing special. There’s dozens more like her. You could go to bed with any of them.”

“What did I just say?”

“She’s making you stupid, boy. Either take care of this problem, or I will.”

Aila claps a hand over her mouth. Take care of this problem. Does he mean—? He can’t. Even Bobby, with all of his hard edges and frozen demeanour, couldn’t be implying Niall kill her. In no world can she imagine Bobby meaning that. Her eyes burn, chest tightening. The voice in her head is right.

He does.

He wants his son to take her life before she ruins their world.

Niall growls, his voice dangerously low, “You lay a hand on her, and no one will ever find your body.”

Flesh against flesh, shouting. Grunts of exertion. Aila trembles against the door as the men snarl threats at each other—promises of pain and punishment. She hasn’t been in this life long, and she isn’t even truly in it, but she can recognise the sounds of punches landing.

A body slams to the door again, and she can’t stop the sob ripping free. Porcelain shatters on the floor, and wood splinters. There goes Maura’s vase, she thinks almost deliriously.

“What the Hell is going on? Stop it, the both a’ya!”

Maura’s voice rumbles like thunder through the foyer. The fighting stops. Someone clears their throat, and Niall is the first to say a word. He apologises to his mother, but petulance drenches the words. He isn’t really sorry. Aila knows he never will be. Whatever he’s about to say is cut off by her speaking again.

“This is utterly ridiculous. You both are grown adults yet you’re at each other’s throats like children.”

“Robert, please take Aila upstairs. I’ll meet her in our room.”

“‘Our room’,” Bobby mocks. Aila is pleased to hear his voice is just as strained as Niall’s. “As if she’ll stay much longer just because you’ve taken her to bed. She’s nothing but—”

Maura has never sounded so imperial, vicious, as she does now: “You finish that sentence, and I will allow Niall to continue what he started. Niall, you take Aila upstairs right now. She’s probably frightened to death at the ruckus you two have caused.”

“I said I’ll meet her there. Robert?”

Robert murmurs an acquiescence before his footsteps fill the ringing silence. Aila scrambles back, away from the door. A small part of her realises he’s remembered, he is still allowing her to hear his approach. He’s always so kind. Considerate. He pretends she hadn’t listened at the door, and she gives no sign other than her tears.

“Miss Aila, if you’ll follow me.”

She nods shakily and trails after him on knees threatening to collapse. Only Maura stands in the foyer when Aila exits the room. Shards of gold-painted porcelain litter the floor. The vase had been a wedding gift to Maura and Bobby, and now it’s destroyed. Aila sniffles and struggles to catch her breath. The matriarch pats Aila’s cheek, smiling gently, then disappears through the dining room.

Aila hesitates outside of Niall’s room, and Robert stays by her side. “Do they fight like that a lot?”

“No, Miss,” he admits after a pregnant pause. “They argue, yes, but it rarely comes to blows like that.”

“I’ve fucked everything up between them. Haven’t I?”

“Of course you haven’t. May I sit with you a moment?”

Aila nods—she doesn’t want to be alone right now, and Robert’s presence can only give her comfort. Something she needs, a craving running through her bones. She curls up in the armchair, resting her head against the back, and he closes the door and crosses the room. A low sigh hisses from his lips as he perches at the foot of the bed.

“I know Miss Tania told you that Mister Horan has been ‘in the game’, as she so eloquently put it, for longer than Mister Niall has been alive. And it’s true. But Mister Horan—forgive my impudence—has always been hotheaded. It’s where Mister Niall inherited his own... struggles with his anger.”

“I think I know what you mean,” Aila mumbles, and Robert’s lips quirk.

“Mister Niall may have a horrible temper, but he is also fiercely loyal. Sometimes to his own detriment. When it comes to you, my dear, he will always remain steadfast. He will never allow anyone to disparage or harm someone he loves as he loves you. Mister Horan seems to have forgotten that particular lesson he instilled in his son.”

Aila nods slowly then stares out the window. Watches a bird swoop across the sky and something small hops over the green grass. When she looks back at Robert, he’s scrutinising her closely. A gentle light resides in his eyes. He called her ‘my dear’. Not ‘Miss Aila’.

“Will Bobby ever approve of me?” she asks through numb lips.

“I’m afraid I cannot say, Miss. He has surprised me a few times over the years, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he does so again.”

“You may go, Robert.”

“Yes, sir.”

Robert stands, bows to Niall, then sends Aila a smile that reassures her far more than she expected. A dip of his chin, then he leaves the room, closing the door as he goes. Niall takes up post where the valet sat, and Aila sniffs back a fresh round of tears when he pinches the bridge of his nose. The flow of blood doesn’t seem to have an end.

When he meets her eyes a minute later, he wipes his hand under his nose. He only succeeds in smearing the blood.

“That was not how I expected today to go.”

“I won’t have you two fight because of me.”

“It isn’t the first time he and I have fought like that, darling, and it certainly won’t be the last.”

“It won’t be because of me ever again. I’ll walk away if it keeps the peace.”

“You leave, and we fight more.” He sighs and holds out a hand. Aila pauses then gives in, moving to his side as if he’s her true north. A magnet drawing her in. “Darling, if I hadn’t fought for you, he would think he could run you off. He needed to learn how important you are to me. How much I need you despite his wishes.”

“So you had to beat the fuck out of him?”

He scoffs, brushing hair from her face. “Violence is the only way he understands things like that. He’s a bit thick, I’ll admit. He reacted the same when Tania joined us. Now he trusts her as much as he trusts the rest of us.”

“Think he’ll trust me, too?”

“I told you,” he whispers as he pulls her in against his side. “I don’t care if he and I have a go every single day for the rest of his life. No matter what he says, you’ve been more than just a quick fuck since the beginning. I—I don’t love people, Aila, but I love you.”

“But will he?”

“Oh, love, I can’t imagine a universe where you couldn’t win him over.” He nudges her face up, and she frowns at the flicker of amusement in his blue eyes. “After all, you’ve won over Tania, and she’s a raging bitch.”

“I’m telling her you said that,” she murmurs. She doesn’t mind the blood on her tongue when he kisses her. Squeezing her eyes closed, she pleads to any god who may be listening that Niall is right. That Bobby will see her as someone trustworthy, someone who deserves his son.

She only hopes he isn’t making an irreversible mistake in choosing her over pleasing his father.

After a couple of minutes, Niall lets out a low groan and stumbles to his feet. Aila follows him into the bathroom, watching him undo the few buttons remaining on his dress shirt. Once the fabric falls to the floor, he stares down at his legs, his shoes. She crosses to his side, drops to her knees in front of him, and carefully tugs his slacks down his legs.

“While you’re down there,” he starts only to yelp when she reaches up and pokes his rib. “Okay, you’re cruel.”

“You love it.”

“I’d love it more if you had my dick in your mouth.”

“Should I poke you again?”

He exhales sharply. “No, ma’am.”

Luckily for him, Aila loves giving him what he wants.