Page 7 of Faithless Vows

The clatter of dishes pulls me awake.

Something feels off before I even open my eyes. The bed is too soft beneath me, and the air smells faintly of powder and perfume. When I open my eyes, the ceiling above me looks wrong, and for a second, I just lie there, stupid with sleep, trying to place the ivory plaster and the thin cracks running through it.

What the hell?

Outside the room, I hear the Andrews Sisters playing. Then a woman’s voice joins in, and I’m suddenly wide awake. I snap upright, and the comforter slides down my body, pooling at my waist. My eyes drop to it.

Pink.

Shit.

And I’ve got nothing on under the damn thing.

My pulse kicks hard as I scan the room, taking in the green-and-pink wallpaper dotted with tiny roses, the lace curtains on the windows, and the white vanity in the corner, crowded with bottles and brushes.

This isn’t my room. Not even close.

I need to get the fuck out of here.

The woman keeps singing as I shove the comforter back and swing my feet onto the cold floorboards. My trousers are crumpled beside the bed, and I grab them and pull them on.

My shirt’s next. I find it thrown over a chair, shove my arms into the sleeves, and start on the buttons. I’m only halfway done when a floorboard creaks in the hall.

I look up just as a woman steps into the doorway.

She’s curvy, with dark curls loose and messy around her face, and a pink robe slipping off one shoulder. She’s carrying two mugs of coffee, steam curling over the rims. Her eyes dropto my trousers, then to my half-buttoned shirt, and a flash of irritation crosses her face before she covers it with a flirty smile. “Morning, handsome,” she says, holding one of the mugs out to me.

Ignoring it, I keep searching for the rest of my clothes. “Sorry, no time for coffee. I’ve gotta get going,” I mutter over my shoulder. “But thanks for last night…”What the hell was her name?

I find my tie on her dresser and loop it loose around my neck before pushing my feet into my shoes, not bothering with the laces. I pat my pockets to make sure I’ve got my wallet, then start for the door.

She hasn’t moved. She just watches me, waiting for me to finish what I was saying. Waiting for her name, probably. Doesn’t matter. I’m not giving her anything either way. The silence stretches long enough that her lower lip pushes out in a pout. “You don’t even remember my name, do you?”

I look past her into the hall. “Look, I really gotta get to work,” I say, my voice clipped.

And still, she doesn’t get out of my way. I watch her take a small sip from one of the mugs she’s still holding, then rest her hip against the doorframe, acting like I didn’t just tell her I had to go. “It’s Kathleen,” she offers, like I asked. “But like I told you last night, you can call me Kitty.” A sly smile pulls at her mouth. “You know, I was starting to think you’d never notice me, Ronin Byrne. We’ve actually met before. My da’s Sully O’Malley. He works for your father down at the docks.”

Plenty of women know my name. That isn’t the problem. It’s the way she says it, like it should mean something between us, and the fact her da works for mine. She’s pretty enough, but that’s trouble I don’t need. “Ah, right. Sully. Yeah… good man,” I say, clearing my throat as I check my watch. I don’t really read the time. I just need something to look at that isn’t her. “I really do have to go.” This time, when I walk toward her, she makes just enough room for me to squeeze past.

I keep going, down the short hall toward the front door, and I’ve got my hand on the knob when she calls after me. “You’ll come back, yeah? Door’s always open for you.”

I’m sure it is.I don’t answer. I pull the door open, step out, and shut it behind me before taking the narrow stairs down from her third-floor apartment two at a time.

By the time I hit the street, I’m already working out what I need to do next. Figure out where the hell I am, find a phone, and call Mick for a ride. Then I get a look around and realize I don’t need one. The docks are close, maybe ten minutes on foot, and my office is in one of the warehouses there. Good enough. I can wash up, change into the spare clothes I keep there, and get on with the day.

I turn toward the docks and start walking, leaving Kathleen O’Malley and last night behind me.

Chapter Four

Alannah

At my vanity, I work my way through my reply to Grandmam’s latest letter. I’ve answered her questions about school and how I’ve been, and asked after everyone back home. That leaves the part I’ve been waiting to write. I pause, pen in hand, and smile as I lower it back to the page. Now I can finally tell her how things have been with Ronin and me.

Ronin finally finished the work he’d been doing on his Cadillac, and last week he drove me to the shore in it as a surprise. He remembered I told him on our first date that I missed the sea. Can you believe that, Grandmam? It was lovely. Standing there with the water in front of me, I almost felt like I was home again. And he’s promised to take me to the fair at Castle Island this weekend—

There’s a knock at my door. “Alannah, love, are you busy?” Mam asks as she opens it and stands in the doorway.

I cap my pen and look up at her. “No, Mam. I’m only writing to Grandmam. What is it?”