Page 6 of Dangerously Deceptive

What she just said has left me reeling in so many ways. Boyfriend? Mugging? Police? What the hell? I don’t need to have all my brain cells working to know that I lied to the nurses when I got here. I had no choice on that matter, I could hardly point fingers at the Reapers. Believe it or not, I don’t actually want to die.

With a small squeeze to my hand from Kellan, he pulls my attention back and I realise the nurse is standing at the end of my bed, waiting for me to answer. She is scribbling away, but her gaze is mainly focused on looking at me over the top of her glasses.

“Yeah, that’s not a problem. Thank you,” I reply quickly. I genuinely mean it when I say thank you. I have a lot of respect for nurses, midwives, and other health care professionals. They work long hours, are regularly away from their family, often work under stressful conditions, and they rarely see any rewards. Their pay is rubbish and in no way represents the care they provide to others. Just because the idea of talking to a Garda goes against my blood, that doesn't mean she deserves to get that backlash.

As Annette walks out the door, mumbling about bringing me some pain relief when they have finished speaking to me, I look over at Kellan, unsure what I will see. The anger he had before Annette perfectly timed her entrance seems to have dissipated slightly, but that doesn’t mean I can read him. Reading people is a talent I have developed over my very short life. Living in an MC, when you are not sure if people are going to flip out and start losing their shit at any given moment, you have to learn to read people. Look for cues that tell me when that is likely to happen, and how well I need to hide. Some of them like the chase, others give up after checking one or two hiding spots. But as I’ve gotten older, it’s become harder to run away, harder to hide. Hence, why I am in this mess.

“You can go if you want,” I mumble, trying to pull my hand back from Kellan’s.

The more I look at his beautiful face, his strong stubble-covered chin, and his intense blue eyes, the more I feel bad that I brought him into this mess. This isn’t the first time I’ve been injured in this way, it’s also not the first time I have been brought to the emergency room. But this attack was different…worse. I don’t know why I thought of Kellan, I barely know him, but he was all I could think about. Maybe I just didn’t want to ruin the plan we have going? Or maybe I finally started to develop normal girly feelings, something not at all typically like me.

“Why would I go? I said I would stay with you and help you out as needed,” Kellan replies with a confused expression.

“I just thought you would have better things to do.”

“If you’re worried about the job, I’ve been checking in periodically and thankfully, the old guy doesn't look to be getting ready for a trip to Ireland. Although, given the check-ins I keep getting, I wonder if you didn’t exactly give me all the full details about who this guy really is?” he asks, his eyebrow raised as though he already suspects he knows I lied, but I didn’t really lie much.

“Okay, I promise you, I didn’t lie completely. I don’t know a lot about the mark, and most of what I told you is what the Reapers told me. But, I do know the types of businesses that the Reapers are involved in. They will handle and move anything, as long as money is involved. So I could have put two and two together to figure out the correct answer, but given I didn't know for sure, I only told you what I know,” I explain, hoping Kellan can tell I mean it.

“I believe you. I’m only getting snippets of information, but I can tell this guy is important, and he is a lot better connected than your Reapers think. I’m worried that when we perform this job for them, he will send every army at his disposal after the Reapers, and there will be no going back. This job could start a war,” he explains, his features solemn, as we both contemplate what the right thing to do is.

For me, it’s easy, I do the job and earn my freedom, or I stay with the Reapers, end up an Old Lady and spend the rest of my life praying that a night like last night doesn’t happen again. I’m not so sure it’s an easy choice for Kellan. I can almost see the gears grinding away in his little brain. Luckily, he doesn’t get a chance to answer as yet again Annette with her brilliant timing enters the room, only this time she is closely followed by Gardai, two of them.

The man who enters the room first is dressed in a shabby dark blue suit, with his matching royal blue tie slightly off-kilter, and what seems to be a ketchup stain on his white wrinkled shirt. His shirt has seen better days and is straining against the beer belly that is trying to break free. As I glance at his face, this officer seems as tired as his suit. The messy beard he seems to be sporting is halfway between looking intentional, or as though he just hasn’t shaved in a few days. The bags under his eyes are almost as large as his belly, and the dark rings make his face seem sunken and old. His wispy brown hair appears to be thinning, and is flying in all directions, almost as though it has never seen a comb before. This man looks to be in his fifties, although it’s hard to tell given his general appearance. As he takes in my appearance, the same disinterested look remains, looking as though he wishes he could be anywhere but right here.

His partner who walks in after him is the complete opposite. The young detective has a fierce yet also slightly pitiful look on her face. She doesn’t look anything like her partner. She is dressed in smart, pressed black trousers, and a white baggy t-shirt that hides her boobs nicely, but even though it's bigger than it should be, you can still tell she has a nice body. She is almost as tall as her partner, but she looks to put a lot of pride into her appearance. Her long brown hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, and her face is covered in light make-up that hides any imperfection. She looks how you would expect a film version of a Garda to look.

After my quick assessment, I try to think if I know of either of these two detectives. Obviously, the Reapers have quite a few Gardai in their pockets, but remembering which ones is a nightmare. If I had to make an educated guess, the bloke is bent, but the woman, she looks like a rule follower and someone who actually wants to uphold the law. I almost snort as I try to hold back a laugh at that thought. There’s more non-law-abiding citizens in Limerick than any-fucking-where else in Ireland, I would guess. Not only do you have the Reapers, but the Doughty family also rule Limerick, and they have their long-standing feud with the O’Keenans in neighbouring Kirk. That war has spilled over into the streets many times, as has the actions of the Reapers. But right now, everything seems to be in harmony, like they may have found the perfect way to co-exist. I know I feel the same way as everyone else. We are just waiting for the next shoe to drop, for the balance to shift and war to break out again. They can’t have peace and harmony for too long. Whenever chaos spreads, the Reapers thrive.

“Hello, Miss Callahan, I’m Detective Sergeant Winslow, and this is Detective Inspector Brown,” states the female, pointing to the man as she says the name Brown. It couldn’t be more fitting, his name is just as dull as he looks.

“Hi,” I mumble, looking down at my hand that is curled protectively around my sore body. I feel a squeeze of my other hand, Kellan’s way of reminding me he’s there.

Casting a glance to the side, I see a small smile on his face which reassures me, as I turn back to look at the female officer when she starts talking. “Thank you for agreeing to talk to us. I can see this must have been a very traumatic event for you. I have to inform you that we will be noting down anything that is mentioned during this meeting, but we will need to get it formally written up, or documented at the station. We can talk about which method you would prefer at the end. The first thing I want to ask, due to the very personal nature of this crime, and the level of detail we will need to go into, are you okay with your boyfriend remaining in the room? You may find it easier to talk to us if he is not here.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth, my heart starts to race. What the fuck am I going to do? There are some very specific aspects of the event that I don’t want him to know about. I can’t bear seeing the look on his face change. Even when I first woke up and I looked probably the shittest I have ever looked, he never pitied me. He always looked at me with those sparkling blue eyes that I could get lost in, but with no judgement. I don’t want to change that, but if I ask him to leave, I don’t know how it will look. Besides, I am becoming far too reliant on having his hand clasped in mine. It gives me the strength I am used to faking.

“He can stay,” I say, without looking over at Kellan. But as he lightly squeezes my hand, he gets my attention.

“If, at any point, you would prefer I left, let me know,” he states, his soft but raspy voice making my stomach do little somersaults. Fuck, he is gorgeous.

“Good, now we have cleared that up. Why don’t you tell me what happened last night, please, Miss Callahan.” As she spoke she pulled out a notepad that was attached to her tactical belt. Despite her baggy t-shirt hiding most of it, I can see she has a weapon on her belt too. Not that guns scare me anymore.

As she talks, her partner, Brown, goes to sit on the small plastic sofa that is in the corner of the room. He couldn’t look less interested if he tried.

“Not much to tell sadly. I went for a drink at this club in town, when I came out I was attacked from behind, then I woke up here. I can’t remember a thing, sorry,” I state very matter-of-factly. Trying to keep any emotion out of it, but I can see everyone in the room knows I’m lying. Brown, for the first time since entering the room, has a small smile across his face, so he is definitely on the Reapers' books then. Kellan and Detective Winslow both look to be grinding their teeth in frustration. As if they both expected me to be better than I am right now.

“Look, Shayla. May I call you Shayla?” Winslow asks as she pulls up a seat to sit at the other side of my bed, opposite Kellan. I give her a small smile and a nod of confirmation, and she continues. “Shayla, we have CCTV footage of you leaving the club earlier in the evening. There is a two-hour window where we cannot account for your whereabouts, although we can take a pretty good guess. Then you appear in the club’s alley, out of the blue, with these injuries. You didn't go back into the club, and there’s nobody else seen near that area at the time you were left there. You were found around ten minutes later. If we had to guess, I would say you were dropped off at the alley, and the nearest person to do that would have been a woman we have captured on CCTV. Do you know this woman?”

Winslow slides across an enlarged photograph. It’s grainy, but it is very clearly a picture of Honey, probably the only friend I have at the Reaper compound. There’s no way she should be involved in this, and from this picture, they don’t have any evidence to link her. So, I lie with ease. “I know her, we have some mutual friends, but I didn’t see her that night. I didn’t even know she was at the club.”

“Well, that’s the thing, Shayla, she wasn’t at the club. There is no reason for her to be anywhere near the scene, unless she was involved in your attack.” I freeze, knowing she is right. There is no such thing as coincidence, and Winslow knows that.

Luckily, Kellan obviously can sense my tension, he speaks for me. “Are you kidding? Look at that woman! Even on a picture you can see she is tiny. There’s no way she could have caused all these injuries,” Kellan fumes, wafting his arm around as he gets more and more animated. But fuck me did it melt my heart. I don’t know why he is defending me, but I’ve never had anyone other than Honey in my corner before, it kinda feels nice.

“Oh no, Sir, I can assure you I don’t think that. What is your name, by the way?” she asks as she turns her attention to Kellan.

“It’s Kellan. So, if you don’t think that woman had anything to do with it, what are you thinking?” Kellan replies, subtly diverting attention away from the fact that he didn’t give out his surname.

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