Page 27 of Southie
This had to be what she was talking about.
“Camilla, are you all right?” I reached over and touched her arm, causing her to flinch.
I tried to hold the anger that crept over me.
My hand moved back to the steering wheel, and my grasp tightened. The need to protect her engulfed me like flames.
“No...” she whispered, getting a detached look in her eyes.
My body stiffened from her confession. It was a look I’d seen many times before. Someone had harmed her, and she was reliving those moments.
Tension filled the cab of the truck. It was heavy as her fear increased along with my anger. She was running from whatever “personal things” she’d mentioned.
“You’re not fine?” My question came out gruff and harsh, startling her out of her memories. I knew she wasn’t fine, but I asked her anyway.
She shook her head, and the look disappeared when she smiled at me, although it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yes…yes, I’m fine. I’m sorry. What were you saying about Southie?”
She wanted to change the subject. My first instinct was to pull the truck over and force her to tell me whatever the hell was going on because her first response had been truthful. She wasn’t fine. I wanted to help her. Why I cared so much, I didn’t know, but I wanted to help and protect her.
From this line of work, I’d learned that when someone was under stress, or in fear for their life, their first answer was usually the truth. I’d also learned to pay close attention to body language to gauge certain situations. A person’s body language could keep me from getting killed.
I saw the slight tremble in her hands and quiver of her bottom lip. The quake in her voice and shallow breaths when the phone continually sounded made me want to snatch the phone out of her hand. I also noticed the deep breaths she took to calm her nerves after she silenced the phone.
She wasn’t just scared. Something had terrified her.
My anger rose the more I thought of what caused her fear, causing me to grip the steering wheel tighter. I wanted her to trust me, but she wouldn’t trust me with her business, and she shouldn’t. Whatever she was going through would make her more guarded than the normal person, but that would soon change. I’d remove that fear from her eyes permanently just as soon as I found out what or who caused it. Camilla was someone special. Although I didn’t understand it, I could feel it. Just as I could feel my heart beating in my chest. A feeling I always trusted.
“Liam? You were telling me about Southie.”
I’d let the subject drop for now, but I’d get it out of her. She’d have no other choice but to tell me who was scaring her because Camilla Jennings was about to become a big part of my life.
I took a deep breath and exhaled, releasing the tension I held so I could explain without spilling too much.
“Southie, among other places in Boston and New England, are controlled by my boss, Paddy O’Connor. Paddy’s from Cork, Ireland, the same place my grandmother’s from. Our family ties go back to Ireland, so when he came to the States, my grandmother helped him out. Through my father, I became involved with him. Not by choice, but by necessity.”
“Why are you working for someone against your will, Liam?”
“We can’t get into that right now, Camilla. But all I’ll say is I wish I didn’t have to.”
She wanted to ask questions, but those questions, I wouldn’t be answering today.
I focused on the road and continued to explain her father’s connection to the mob. “Before anyone opens a business in the neighborhood, real estate agents inform potential business owners there’s a fee paid to Paddy. Your father accepted the terms, but once he opened, he refused to pay. I was your father’s final warning. But, I’m a huge fan of his so I wanted to help him out.”
“Why did you help him out?” Her voice was shaky, but she deserved the truth about who I was and what her father was dealing with.
It was only right.
If we’d been under different circumstances and I’d lived a different life, Camilla would be the woman I would drop everything for. Did I believe in love at first sight? Hell no. Women served one purpose. But, if I did, I would have fallen head over heels in love with this woman.
“You.”
“Me?”
A burst of nervous laughter left my lips. There was something about her that drew me in.
Before I could dwell on it, we arrived at her campus.
She took a deep breath and exhaled. “This is me,” she said, but lingered.
