Illicit Captor by Maggie Cole

24

Aidan

Devin gets back in the car.

"Well, what did ya find out?" I inquire.

He shakes his head. "The registrar said that ya have to go to Dublin to find out if Tommy filed the paperwork."

"Why can't they tell us here?"

He shrugs. "Different government, different system. But she asked me if it's the same Scarlet O'Leary who married Tommy."

I groan and put my hand over my face. "Goddammit."

"You're never going to escape that one," Devin states.

"Shut the fuck up."

"Well, she was married to him."

"She was forced to marry him. It wasn't her choice," I bark.

Devin puts his hands in the air. "That may be so..."

"It's not 'that may be so.' It's the truth," I declare.

He keeps his hands where they are. "Yea, I get that. Sorry. Wrong choice of words."

"Ya should be sorry, ya fucking rat."

"Are we back to this again? I thought ya were past that situation."

I grip the steering wheel tighter and growl, "I don't want to go down to Dublin today."

"We can't go to Dublin anyway. Somebody else will need to go. Ya know ya can't show your face there with everything going on."

"I'll show my face wherever I fucking want," I claim.

He shakes his head and points at me. "Sometimes you're dumber than I think ya are."

"Shut up," I order again.

"We've got to send one of our guys down there. If ya show up in Dublin, there will be issues, so focus on what ya can. Ya have to find Tommy right now and take care of him. And ya know ya can't take any undue risks."

I hate that my brother's right. I stay quiet for a while.

He adds, "I don't know why ya want to get married anyway. It's a stupid ritual."

I turn my head and scowl. "That's because you've never met the woman who's supposed to be yours forever."

He grunts. "No one's supposed to be anyone's forever. That's just a fallacy."

"You're a moron." I shake my head.

"Not as big of one as ya are. You're not only getting married, but you're also marrying an O'Leary."

I smack him across the head.

"Jesus. What the fuck was that for?" he hurls.

I jab his chest. "Don't ya ever talk about my woman that way again."

"I just stated a fact. She is an O'Leary."

"She's not an O'Leary anymore."

"Oh, sorry. She's an Ahern."

I smack him again, this time harder.

Fire erupts in Devin's eyes. "Goddammit. I swear to God, Aidan, if ya don't stop..."

"You'll what?" I taunt.

His face hardens. He shakes his head harder. "You're losing it over a woman."

"Ya need to grow up," I tell him, then turn on the car. I pull out of the parking lot in the opposite direction of the house.

"Where are ya going? I told ya we can't go to Dublin today. Don't be stupid," Devin restates.

"I'm not going to Dublin," I say and continue down the road.

"Then where are we going?" he questions.

"To pay Father Michael a visit."

He groans. "He's going to pray those stupid prayers he reserves specially for us. Don't make me sit through all of that."

"Yea, well, maybe it'll be good for someone to pray for your soul," I state.

He grunts. "That's funny coming from ya. Pretty sure he should pray for your soul more. You're the one who will be burning in flames before ya even get there."

I ignore his remark about my pyro habit, but the itch to burn something suddenly fills me, and it pisses me off.

Devin knows exactly how to get under my skin.

For several minutes, all I can think about is fire. I haven't lit a match in a while. Something about Scarlet has calmed me in certain ways, but right now, I'd do anything to light a match and then toss it on my brother. I snarl, "You're lucky your blood."

"Whatever."

I veer through the busy Belfast streets, avoiding cars and going through traffic lights.

"Jesus, why do ya have to go so fast? You're making my breakfast churn. It's not like Father Michael will be doing anything except praying all day."

"Stop being a pussy."

"I'm not a pussy."

"How do ya know his schedule anyway?" I question.

Devin snorts. "Because that's what he always does."

"And ya keeping tabs on Father Michael? Is there something ya want to tell me?"

Devin scowls. "Shut up. Every time we have to go there, he's kneeling in front of the candles and reciting the rosary. It doesn't take a genius to know what he'll be doing."

I lean closer and taunt, "Or, maybe ya are keeping tabs on him."

"Put your money where your mouth is, then! I guarantee ya a hundred pounds that he's praying and saying a rosary when we get there."

I don't take my brother's bet. I know damn well Father Michael will be doing just that. I continue through the streets and pull up to the church. I park and get out of the car.

Devin stays where he is.

I open his door. "What are ya doing?"

"I'm not going in. This is your gig, not mine," he retorts.

"Aye, ya are. Get your ass out of the car."

He grumbles, "Why do I have to go in?"

"Because someday you're going to have to do this, ya dumbass. And ya need to learn how to do it."

He scoffs. "Bullshit. I'm never getting married."

"Dad will have something to say about that," I state.

"I don't care what Dad says. I'm not getting married. Marriage is for losers who aren't part of this century and have no balls."

"No balls?" I question.

He nods. "Aye. Losers without balls because a woman snagged them for life."

I step back and snarl, "Get your ass out of the car before I beat it."

He slowly gets out, but he's not happy with me. That's okay though. I'm not happy with him either.

Feeling antsy, I put my hand inside my pocket and grip my lighter.

We enter the church, and Devin nudges me. Arrogance washes over his face. He points to Father Michael, who, sure enough, is kneeling in front of the candles.

"Stay here," I quietly say. I go to the front of the church, kneel next to him, then take my lighter out and ignite several candles. I toss a bunch of cash into the box.

Father Michael turns toward me. "Well, if it isn't Aidan O'Connor."

"Father," I say, nodding my head in reverence.

He puts his rosary down and then makes the sign of the cross.

To appease him, I do the same.

He puts his hand on my shoulder. "Dear Lord, please protect this man's soul. He knows not what he does."

I hold in my comments as the silence ensues, and Father Michael keeps his eyes shut. It's the same damn prayer he always gives me. He knows I'm going to hell, yet he always prays to God to save me.

"Amen," he adds.

"Amen," I repeat.

He stays frozen, surely praying harder for me in his head.

When he finally opens his eyes, I announce, "I have a private matter I need to talk to ya about."

"Aye, I'm sure ya do or ya wouldn't be here," he states in disapproval, then adds, "Ya should be coming to church on Sundays and Holy Days."

I ignore his comment. I get up, go over to the front pew, and nod for my brother to join us.

Father Michael booms, "Well, Devin O'Connor. I didn't know I would be graced with your presence as well." He makes the sign of the cross and then puts his hand on Devin's shoulder and prays, "Dear Lord, please make this young lad find his way and see the ways of his sins."

Devin grunts, and I give him a dirty look.

Father Michael opens his eyes and arches his eyebrows. "Is there something else ya want me to pray for ya over?"

Devin's face hardens. He shakes his head. "Nah, that works. Let's not change things."

Satisfaction overtakes Father Michael's face. He says, "Amen."

Devin doesn't echo the sentiment.

Father Michael crosses his arms and glares at my brother.

I nudge him.

"Amen," Devin grumbles.

Father points to the pew. "Please, lads, sit. Something's obviously on your minds."

"Not my mind. I was pressured to come inside," Devin confesses.

"Shut up," I say.

"Please watch your language in the house of God," Father Michael reprimands.

I make a note to keep my comments to myself, especially when I need him to do what I want him to do.

We all sit down, and Father Michael asks, "Now, what can I do for ya?"

I take a deep breath and say, "I'm getting married."

"Well, congratulations. It's about time. Does your da know?"

I nod. "Yea, he met her this morning."

Father Michael's eyes lighten. "And who is the lass?"

"Let's get to that in a minute," I state.

Curiosity fills his expression. He squints at me.

I announce, "We're getting married as soon as possible."

"Ya must love her very much, then."

"Aye. I do," I admit.

"Well, marriage classes are starting—"

"No, we're not doing classes," I interject, narrowing my eyes.

He objects, "Everyone has to take classes."

"Let's not beat around the bush. I know there's an expedited process."

He gives me a challenging stare and glances around to ensure we're alone. He states, "Aye. For special circumstances I can accommodate. However, there's a big donation for that."

"Aye. I'm not daft. How much?" I ask.

"Well, it depends."

"What do ya mean it depends?"

"How fast ya want it to happen, what her previous situation is, and her current religion. There are a lot of factors that come into play."

"For a fucking priest, ya sure do know how to take people for their money," I blurt out.

He scolds, "Do not use that language in the house of God."

I sit up straighter. "Sorry."

He gives me another disapproving look and asks, "So I'm not going to ask ya again, Aidan, who is the woman?"

My stomach flips. I hate having to admit who Scarlet is. Not because I'm ashamed of her but because of the situation. I know this is going to get more complicated. But I answer his question. "Her name is Scarlet."

His eyes narrow. "Scarlet, what?"

"Scarlet O'Leary."

His head jerks backward. "Ya mean Ahern?"

"No, O'Leary," I say.

"Didn't she get married to Tommy Ahern, the O'Leary underboss?" he asks.

I fist my hand next to my thigh with my lighter in it, stopping myself from flicking it. "She was forced to get married. It wasn't legal."

"But she's married, correct?"

"She isn't. It wasn't of her own free will," I repeat.

His face softens. "Aye, I'm sure it wasn't. However, ya got a problem on your hands, lad."

"I know what problems I have on my hands. How much is it going to be for ya to expedite our marriage classes?"

"It's not about the money."

"Sure it isn't," I snap.

"Watch it," he warns again.

I sigh. "What's the problem, then?"

"Before ya get married, she needs to be divorced. Or widowed," he adds, with hope in his voice. Father Michael may be a man of the cloth, but he hates the O'Learys as much as we do.

"I'm taking care of that," I claim.

He nods. "Good. It's best for everyone. The people of Ireland don't need that man around, and neither does your soon-to-be wife."

"Agreed. So ya do your part and I'll do mine. How do we get this done?" I question.

He studies me for a while. Then, without emotion, he says, "It's going to cost ya fifty thousand pounds."

"Fifty thousand pounds? Are ya insane?" Devin blurts out.

"Ya need to watch the level of your voice in the house of God," Father Michael scolds him again.

Devin crosses his arms. "That's highway robbery, and ya know it."

"Is it? Seems to me ya can either go through the classes the way you're supposed to, at the time that you're supposed to, or ya can pay the small fee for a luxury—"

"Small fee? That's not a small fee," Devin claims.

"Be quiet," I say through gritted teeth.

Father Michael turns to me. "I think I misread the situation. I meant to say sixty thousand pounds."

"Are ya a blackmailer too?" Devin asks.

"Goddammit, Devin, get the fuck out of here," I order, annoyed.

Father Michael threatens, "I'm not going to warn ya again, Aidan. Ya need to watch your language inside this church. Have some respect for our creator."

I scrub my face. "I'm sorry. Devin, leave."

"Gladly." The sound of my brother trudging out of the church and then slamming the door fills the air.

"That will be another ten grand for him slamming that door. That's an old door. He probably broke it."

I look back at the heavy wooden door. I assure him, "The door is fine."

"Is it now?" Father Michael asks, arching his eyebrow.

My chest tightens. The longer I'm here, the higher the price will get. I know how Father Michael operates, so I hold my tongue.

He studies me. "Are ya sure ya want to marry an O'Leary?"

My gut tightens. "She has no allegiance to the O'Learys. She was forced to marry that thug. I would think ya, of all people, would have some sympathy for the situation."

A look of pity crosses his face. "Aye, I do have sympathy for her and that situation. However, facts are facts. You're bringing a lot of problems into your life."

I retort, "Nothing I'm not taking care of. And ya should watch your mouth. Do I need to remind ya that Brody is married to Alaina, her sister?"

Father Michael stays quiet, but he doesn't stop giving me his challenging stare. And I've got to give it to the guy. He knows how to play a lot of sides. He doesn't back down or look scared, but he still maintains his saintly priest's routine perfectly.

I assert, "Fifty thousand. I'll have it to ya by tomorrow."

"I think it went up to seventy," he claims.

In a firm voice, I insist, "No, fifty thousand. I'm not going a penny higher."

He arches his eyebrows. "I thought ya wanted to get through the marriage classes without waiting and attending all seven sessions."

I shake my head. "There are other churches around here. There are other priests. My guess is that you'd prefer to have fifty thousand pounds in your church versus another church. A lot of things ya can do with that amount of money."

"Aye, but it's going to be seventy," he declares, sticking to his guns.

I take my chances and rise. I hold out my hand. "Good to see ya, Father Michael. I guess I'll report to my father that we need a new family priest."

He rises and glances at my hand. "Who else are ya gonna go to? I'm the priest for the O'Connors. No one else. Your da will tell ya that."

"It might be time we got another priest. And come to think of it, I don't need to tell my dad. Brody and Alaina are in charge of Ireland now, with full authority. And I know neither will look favorably upon this. Especially Alaina...ya know how she is." I stare him down and wait.

He stays quiet, not flinching.

"I'm walking out the door in three seconds. Three...two..."

"Fine. Fifty thousand pounds. I need it by tomorrow. Cash."

"I know the drill," I reply, patting him on the back. "Good doing business with ya, Father. I expect our one session to take place two days from now."

"Two days!" he exclaims.

"Aye. I'm marrying her as soon as possible, and I don't want anything holding it up."

He asks, "What about the fact she's still married? I can't marry ya if that isn't taken care of. That's illegal and on paper. It's a different set of rules and laws. No amount of money will buy ya out of that."

I scoff. "We'll see about what money can and can't buy. Ya do your part, and I'll let ya know when the nuptials can take place."