Perfect Sinner by Maggie Cole

5

Nolan

Gemma goesstraight to her room. I start to follow her but change my mind. What exactly am I going to say? I don't even know why she's so pissed. Molly wasn't nice. I reprimanded her when Gemma went to get her bracelet. Molly said she was rude to her the previous night, which I couldn't deny, but I still told her to let it go and be nice. I'm not sure why Gemma's upset with me for it.

After more debate, I reheat her sandwich and knock. She doesn't answer. I can hear the shower. I inch the door open, verify she's in the bathroom, and put it on her bed. I leave, take a shower in my bathroom, and almost knock on her door again.

Almost.

I stop myself mid-knock. I still don't know what I'm trying to achieve. Hating her was so much easier, but at some point, it changed. Last night, I could only see her as a Bailey. Now, I'm not sure what I feel toward her or what bucket to place her in.

She's still a Bailey.

An unwilling one.

Her blood is still theirs. She'll always be part of them.

My phone rings, and I glance at the screen. I answer, "Darcey, everything okay?" Since Nora is about to have the baby, my brothers and I told Darcey to call us and not her if something is wrong at the pub.

"Nolan, are you free?"

The hairs on my arms rise. "Yeah, why?"

"Molly sliced her hand on the potato machine. Killian wrapped it, but he said he's doing something for Darragh tonight. She's kind of hysterical and thinks she needs stitches."

"And do you?"

"Umm...not sure."

"How the heck did she do that?" The potato machine is pretty self-contained. I wouldn't think anyone could hurt themselves on it unless they're trying to.

Darcey sighs. "You know Molly. She's accident prone."

I glance toward Gemma's bedroom door. "Okay. I'll be there in a minute. Keep it wrapped." I hang up, and my gut flips.

I knock on Gemma's door. She opens it and pushes her wet hair behind her ear. "Hi. Thanks for the sandwich."

I smile, happy she ate, especially after our run and not eating for days. "You're welcome."

She waits for me to speak.

I open my mouth then shut it. Mentioning Molly is only going to piss her off again. "I have to go out. Something came up."

"Oh." Worry and a bit of fear cross Gemma's face.

My heart stammers. It shouldn't bother me so much, but I hate seeing her expression. "You don't have to worry. My cousins all have the house surrounded. If you want, I can have one of them come inside?"

She shakes her head. "No. That's okay. I'll be fine if you're sure no one can get in?"

"They can't," I assure her.

"Okay. Umm...will you be gone long?"

"Hopefully not."

She takes a deep breath and smiles. "Okay."

An awkward silence follows. I start to reach for her then stop. "I'll see you later tonight."

"Sure. Have a good night."

I slowly step back and leave. I talk to the guys guarding the house and tell them to send another one over so he can be right on the doorstep. A strange feeling fills me as I drive away, but I'm not sure what to make of it.

"The Baileys are coming."Sean's voice comes flying at me from nowhere.

I grip the steering wheel tighter. The first thought is Gemma's in my house and she could be playing me. Everything could be an act. It isn't the first time a mafia family would have planted someone in another family's life.

Gemma holding her palms over her eyes pops into my mind. All I hear is her saying, "I think about killing myself every day. I don't know how much more of her I can take."

I don't have long to analyze why Sean's voice came into my head at this particular moment. I pull up to the back alley of the pub, and Killian is waiting with Molly. Her hand is wrapped in white gauze. He opens the door, and she gets in.

"You all right?" I ask.

Her brown eyes fill with tears, and she starts to weep. "It hurts so bad." She leans toward me, and I pull her into me for a hug.

"All right, lass. You probably only need one or two stitches. They might even use glue." Killian rolls his eyes and mouths, drama queen. He always called Molly that. I usually get angry with him for being disrespectful, but tonight it's not bothering me.

I pat Molly's back. "Let's get your belt on."

Killian stretches the belt toward me, and I clasp it in the buckle. He puts her purse on her lap. "Darcey called St. Joseph's. They said it isn't a long wait right now."

"Got it."

Killian shuts the door, taps the hood, and I take off.

"How did you manage this one?" I ask.

Molly sniffles. "One of the potatoes got stuck under the grate. I tried to get it out."

"Did you push another potato through?" Nora gave a strict training about the new machine. Everyone had to be there. She was very clear. All you have to do is push another one through and not touch the grate.

Molly sobs. "No. I wasn't thinking straight."

I turn my blinker on and glance at her. "At least you didn't cut your finger off. Next time, don't touch the grate."

"Sorry. Did I ruin your date with Gemma?"

I freeze. "I wasn't on a date with Gemma."

"No? She sure seemed awfully possessive of you," Molly states.

My chest tightens. "I think you misread things."

"Why was she with you after all the craziness that happened last night?"

Rain hits the windshield, and I turn on the wipers. Lightning flashes across the sky. "We went for a run."

"But you're not dating her?"

"No." I turn to Molly. "Why are you asking me this?"

She pushes her brown hair behind her ear. "Aren't we friends? Isn't this what friends talk about?"

I've dated plenty of women. Not once have I discussed them with Molly. She once dated a Rossi thug without knowing who he was. He came into the pub, started a fight, then came back and torched the place. It's the only time I interrogated her about who she sees. Something about talking about Gemma with Molly makes me uncomfortable, even though nothing is going on between us. "Well, I'm not dating Gemma, so let's change the subject." I pull up to the emergency room entrance. "Go inside, and I'll meet you."

Molly gets out, and once she's safely inside, I park the car. I jog through the rain and enter the hospital. We go through all the procedural stuff and take a seat and wait.

"You should call your mom and tell her we're here," I advise.

"She isn't home. She went on a girls' trip for the weekend," Molly says.

"Oh. Where to?"

"Vegas. She won't be home until Monday."

I cross my arms and stretch my legs.

"I like your joggers," Molly says.

"Thanks." I bite on my smile, thinking about Gemma and my conversation before we went for coffee.

"What's so funny?" Molly asks.

"Hmm?" I raise my eyebrows at her.

"You look like you want to laugh."

"Nothing."

"Oh, come on. You can tell me," she insists. She leans closer to me. "It'll be our secret."

"Nothing's funny. How's your hand?"

She glances at it and scrunches her face. "It really hurts, Nolan."

Maybe Killian is right and she is a drama queen.

"On a scale of one to ten, ten being the most amount of pain, what is it?" I ask.

She sniffles several times. "At least a seven."

"A seven! Wow! Killian has to beat me in the face in the boxing ring several times for a seven. You gotta toughen up, girl," I declare and elbow her in the arm.

She puts her good hand over her face and groans. "Nolan! You know I can't handle pain well."

I'm about to agree with her when a nurse yells her name.

She gets up then turns. "Aren't you coming with me?"

"Do you want me to?"

"Please!"

"Okay." I rise and go with her. The nurse unwraps the gauze and smiles. "It's not bad. You'll be fine. We'll wash it out to make sure it isn't infected, and my guess is the doctor will tell me to use skin glue on it."

I glance at the gash. It's barely an inch long and not deep at all.

"What about stitches?" Molly questions.

"I don't see any reason you'll need those," the nurse says.

We spend another hour and a half waiting for the doctor, who ends up telling the nurse to add some skin glue to her finger. After another half hour, the nurse brings her discharge papers.

Molly and I get in the car. It's dark, and the thunderstorm is loud and bright. When we get to her house, I walk her to the door to make sure she gets inside okay.

"Will you come inside? It freaks me out to be here by myself," she says.

"Molly, you know the O'Malleys watch your house. No one is inside." Since her brother, Colin, did many things for Darragh before he went overseas for work, the O'Malleys have always protected them.

She grips my biceps. "Please, Nolan!"

"Fine. I'll sweep the house. Then you can turn your security system on. But then I need to go, Molly."

"Okay. Thank you."

We step inside. I go through each room, and when I get done, Molly asks, "Do you want a drink?"

"No. Molly, I have to go. Turn on your alarm. Get some rest." I nod and turn to leave.

"Nolan!"

I spin. "Yeah?"

She throws her arms around me. "Thank you for taking me. I'm sorry I'm such a cry baby."

I pat her back. "You're fine. Now get some rest."

She looks up but doesn't let go of me. "Okay. Thank you."

I step back, feeling slightly uncomfortable. I curse Gemma for getting in my head about my relationship with Molly. But then I think of Gemma alone in the house, and all I want to do is go home and make sure she's okay. I sternly say, "Good night, Molly. Lock up."

She reluctantly releases me. I leave, drive home, and go into the house.

Everything is dark. I glance at my watch. It's after ten. The lightning bursts through the sky, and the house rattles as the thunder follows. I'm not sure if Gemma will be awake or sleeping, so I slowly open her door.

I'm unprepared for what I see. At first, I think my eyes are playing tricks on me. But they aren't.

"What are you doing?" I growl.

Gemma jumps, and a handful of pills scatter all over the floor. The cup of water tumbles to the ground. She turns her tear-stained cheeks toward me. Her entire body is trembling.

I rush over to her and kneel in front of her. I put both hands on her cheeks. My heart races so fast it hurts. I repeat, but gentler than before, "What are you doing, princess?"

She shuts her eyes, and tears stream over my hands.

"Gemma."

She begins to sob, and my heart breaks.

I pull her into my chest and stroke her head. "Shh. Everything is going to be okay," I tell her, but I wonder if it is.

Her skin is clammy, and she only cries harder. I'm trying to figure out what could have led to this when her phone lights up on the bed.

I grab it and punch in her code while holding her tightly to me. My stomach drops.

An onslaught of text messages from Orla is on the screen. Hundreds of messages, videos of what I can only assume are women being raped in the Bailey whorehouses, along with two different messages.

Orla: In case you forgot what she sounded or looked like.

I gape at the screen, realizing Orla must have taken Gemma to one of their whorehouses to watch this.

The other message is also consistent.

Orla: You're next if you don't agree to marry who Dad wants you to.

Mixed in with all these horrors are pictures of Gemma's sisters and mother with captions about what men will do to them or how Orla may kill them.

There's a video of her father, in his orange jumpsuit, demanding she take her place in the family and marry his thug. Then there's another video of the man they want her to marry, telling her all the ways he's going to defile her.

My head gets dizzy as I keep scrolling what seems to be a never-ending list of threats. And they all arrived while I was gone.

Every five messages, the same text occurs.

Orla: You should kill yourself since you aren't good enough to be a Bailey.

My mouth is dry. I swallow the lump in my throat and continue trying to calm Gemma, but I don't know what to do. I turn off her phone and toss it on the bed. A rage I've never felt builds in my gut. It takes everything in me to stay calm on the outside.

A long time passes before her sobs turn into whimpers. I mumble into her hair, "I'm taking you to my room."

She says nothing. I rise, pick her up, and carry her to my bedroom. I get a T-shirt, remove her pants and top, and put it on her. I tuck her in bed, strip down to my underwear, then slide next to her.

I tug her into my arms and stroke her back. She's still shaking, and I pretzel all my limbs around her.

She finally looks up. Her blue eyes fill with more tears, and her face crumbles all over again.

"Shhh. Everything is all right," I whisper, holding her as tightly as I can.

For the first time in my life, I'm willing to break the one moral code I have left.

I'm willing to kill a woman. And God help Orla if she gets near Gemma or me. I won't show her any mercy.