Illicit Captor by Maggie Cole

8

Aidan

Scarlet sleeps on my pec, her breath teasing my chest. I stroke her hair for the millionth time. All night, I've been unable to stop my mind from going a mile a minute.

The rooster crows, and she doesn't even stir. I gently slide her off of me and silently curse my erection. As much as I want her, I know it's not right. At least for the time being. She's too confused, and I don't want her to regret me. Yet now that I've kissed her, I know there's something between us. She felt what I did, and now, there's no turning back.

I grab my clothes and leave the bedroom, quietly getting dressed. I put the flannel jacket on and grab two boxes of matches out of the cabinet.

There's too much building up inside of me right now. The only way I can think to calm myself is through fire. So I put on my boots, and I leave the cottage.

Thick fog covers the yard. I cut through it, find the bonfire pit, and toss some logs into the hole. I squirt lighter fluid over the wood, and one by one, I light matches, letting them burn down farther than I normally do. My fingertips soon turn black from the soot.

The numbness is always there. My fingers have been calloused since I was a child and I struck my first match. My mom used to get upset with me. She'd always argue with my father about it, but it's like Dad knew I needed it. He always told her that it was part of me and to let it be.

I light another match and watch it burn. I can hear my mom shrieking at me to stop, our eyes locked as she gave me her horrified stare.

I toss the match into the bonfire as well as the empty box. I pull a fresh one out of my pants, open it, and strike another.

I don't know how to get Scarlet to realize she owes no loyalty to Tommy. I don't understand why she's so confused and doesn't realize she's not bound to him. What her da and Tommy did wasn't legal. That's not how Ireland or any church in it works.

Yet because of her da's power over her, she believes it's real. She thinks there's legitimacy to it, and there's not. Even with him dead, she still can't accept what he did was wrong and doesn't tie her to anyone.

And I hate that she's confused for so many reasons, not just because I can't have her right now. Her torment and pain flash behind my eyes, replacing my mother's stare.

My fingers burn through the numbness, and I toss the match into the pit. I reach for another one.

Scarlet's voice tears me out of my thoughts. "Aidan, what are ya doing?"

I spin.

She has on her coat and pajama bottoms. She hugs herself from the cold. It's still foggy outside, and I can't see the cottage behind her. I order, "Go inside. It's freezing out here."

Her eyebrows furrow. Her eyes dart between the matches in my hand and the fire pit, and finally come to rest on my face. "Aidan, I asked what you're doing."

The uncomfortable pull in my chest I always feel whenever anyone catches me doing this ignites. I answer, "What does it look like I'm doing, petal?"

She frets, "It looks like you're about to burn your fingers off."

"I won't. Now go back inside."

She defies me, stepping closer and curling her fingers over the back of my hand that holds a match. She quietly asks, "Why are ya doing this?"

I stare at her, unable to explain it, just like I never could to my mother or father when he took me aside and privately questioned me all those years ago. My brothers don't understand it either, but everyone has come to accept it. It's been a long time since anyone questioned me about why I have to have matches when stressed out. And no one's ever touched me while I'm in my fire zone.

She doesn't take her eyes off mine, questioning, "Is this something ya do often?"

I don't lie. "Aye."

"Why?"

I shrug and repeat, "Go back inside. It's freezing. I'll bring more wood inside in a minute."

"Come with me," she whispers, her eyes full of worry.

My voice grows firmer. "Scarlet, I need to do this right now, and I need ya to go back inside. Do ya understand me?"

She studies me for another moment, and I think she'll defy me again, but she finally takes her hand off mine, then turns and disappears into the fog.

The cottage door shuts, and I return to the bonfire, cursing myself. I'm not embarrassed she caught me, or shameful in any way, but I wish I knew how to explain it. I wish I understood why I'm compelled to stand here and light boxes of matches, but I don't.

I continue with my routine, but my rage doesn't dissipate the way it normally does. My questions don't stop swirling in my head about how to make Scarlet understand she's not held to any vow with Tommy, and no answers come. It only frustrates me more.

When I'm out of matches, I toss the empty box into the pit and return to the cottage.

I need more.

I open the cupboard where Devin stocked cases of the Maguire & Paterson's.

Scarlet reaches for my shoulder from behind me. "Aidan, you've burned enough."

I grab two more boxes and shove them in my pockets. I spin toward her, ready to return outside.

She puts her hands on my cheeks and pulls my head down so I can't avoid her, ordering, "Aidan. Stop."

The fire in my stomach matches the one in the pit outside. It's like she can see my goddamn burning soul, and I know it's burning. I know where I belong when I finally leave this earth. And she's not the first woman to realize where I'm going, but she's the only one who seems to accept it without any fear.

My heart beats harder, but my cock throbs, and I curse myself. I should have slept on the couch last night. The back pain would've been worse, but that's at least manageable. This is torture, adding to my already tormented state. I demand, "Step aside, petal."

She lifts her chin. "No."

"Why don't ya start breakfast? I'll be in later."

She doesn't move, shaking her head. "No, you're not going back out there."

I scoff. "Is that so?"

"Aidan..." She blows out a frustrated breath.

There's pity in her eyes, and that evokes anger inside me. I bark, "Ya don't need to feel sorry for me, lass. This is just how I deal with things."

"What are ya dealing with?"

"What do ya think I'm dealing with?" I blurt out before I can think about it.

Her eyes turn to slits, and she studies me until my cock's throbbing harder, and every ounce of blood in my veins flows through me quickly, burning how my fingertips feel.

I step forward, and she takes several steps back until she's against the refrigerator.

Her breath hitches.

I reiterate, "I said to stay inside."

She squares her shoulders, pushing me. "What is bothering ya, Aidan?"

I shouldn't say it, but I do. "You've made it pretty clear where your loyalties lie."

Her expression drops.

I instantly hate myself.

This is why I need to be outside at the pit and not in here.

I add, "When I'm like this, petal, I say things I regret. I'm choosing the wrong words right now, and I'm not trying to hurt ya, but if I don't go outside, I can't guarantee I won't."

"Ya told me ya wouldn't hurt me."

My chest tightens. I admit, "Not physically. But I can't guarantee I won't say stupid shit. Now, please stay inside while I do what I need to do."

She puts her hands back on my cheeks, asking, "You're doing this because of me?"

I freeze, breathing harder, as time seems to stand still. My heart pounds so fast I hear it.

She stands on her tiptoes, tugs my head down, and presses her lips to mine. For a moment, I'm unsure what to do.

She retreats an inch, studying me, then moves her lips back against mine, sliding her tongue into my mouth.

I kiss her back, but not as intensely as the night before.

She pulls away and looks at me again.

I murmur, "Don't kiss me again, petal. You're playing with fire right now, and I assure ya, it'll burn ya hotter than any of these matches."

"So now you'll hurt me?" she challenges.

My pulse skyrockets, pounding hard against my ears to the point I feel dizzy. My one fist curls behind her back, and I refrain from tugging on her hair.

I release a breath and growl, "I'm warning ya. I'm in a mood, and I need to go outside."

She doesn't listen. She keeps her fingertips pressed against my skull and brings her lips back to mine, flicking her tongue back into my mouth.

I lose the fight inside me. I grab her ass and pick her up, pinning her between the fridge and my body. Her legs wrap around my waist, and I kiss her as if it's the last kiss I'll ever give anyone.

The fire in the hearth flickers, and something gleams from the corner of my eye. Anger fills me again. I retreat and turn my head, breathing hard and accusing, "Why is that on the counter?"

Her breath matches mine. She furrows her brows again and admits, "I-I didn't know what to do with it."

"Ya felt the need to bring it out here?"

"I didn't put it on my finger! Even though I know Tommy will kill me if he ever found out I don't have it on!" she cries out, and her conflicted expression returns.

I hate that ring. It represents all the shit Tommy put her through and the problem between us.

"I thought ya didn't want it on my finger."

The comment makes me angry. "Do ya want it on your finger?"

She lowers her voice and blinks hard, answering, "No."

"Then why is it on the counter, reminding us of what he did to ya?"

She glances at the ring, then back at me. "What do ya want me to do with it, Aidan? Tell me. Do ya want me to go throw it in the garbage? Hide it in the vent? Should I bury it in the yard? Toss it down the loo? What?"

"I want ya to tell me ya don't ever want to see it again," I seethe.

She looks at me, swallowing hard. For a brief moment, I think she'll tell me she can't do it, that maybe she wants to see that representation of everything wrong in her life or that Tommy's hold over her is too strong for her to even consider escaping it. But then she lifts her chin and proclaims, "I want ya to get rid of it and never let me see it again."

Relief fills me. I kiss her, then gently set her down, still worried she's too damn skinny. But in the last few days, she seems to have gained more strength than when we first arrived.

I make sure she's steady on her feet, and I reach for the ring, ordering, "Put your coat on."

She looks at me in question but obeys. She zips it, and I grab her hand and lead her out of the cottage and through the blanket of fog.

We get to the bonfire pit, and I put the ring in her hand, stating, "Hold this."

She wraps her fingers around it.

I pour lighter fluid all over the fire, which erupts in flames. I instruct, "Toss it in."

She stares at the blaze, frozen with fear.

"I'm not doing it for ya," I quietly state.

She takes a deep breath and then tosses the ring into the flames. It lands on one of the logs.

I hand her the box of matches. "Light one."

"The fire's already hot."

"I don't care, light one," I insist.

Her hands shake, so I put mine over hers and help her light the match.

Unlike my fingers, I know hers aren't used to the heat, so I only let it burn a second before I order, "Toss it."

She does.

"Again," I say.

She looks at me. "Why?"

I take a match out of the box and hold it out to her. "Light it, petal."

She takes another deep breath and obeys.

"Again."

She doesn't question me again.

We get through two boxes of matches, but a fire of this caliber won't melt gold or destroy the diamond. And I want all of it out of sight forever.

So I pick up the shovel and put it in front of her. I wrap my hands around her body, position her fingers on the shovel, and dig into the pit. We dump the ashes over the log, and when the ring is buried under the hot embers so deep it isn't visible, I toss the shovel to the side.

I spin her into me, asserting, "There's no vow for ya to keep. A promise not made from free will isn't valid. From here on out, ya do what ya want, not because of what ya were forced to be tied to."

She swallows hard and slowly nods her head.

I tug her into me and lead her through the fog and back into the cottage, determined to make her mine and finish Tommy off sooner rather than later.