Rouge: Act 3 – Scene 20

Kian

Leaving Lacey behind at the restaurant made my fingers twitch with anxiety, but my father called with urgent details on the Rouge murder and demanded I meet him this instant. I would normally obey an order from my dad without question. But as soon as Tolie calls me to say he’s bringing them the bill, I’m heading to Vincelli’s to take Lacey home, whether my father is finished or not.

Thank Christ for Tolie, though. He’s worked in this town long enough that he knows everyone. It was easy to convince the staff—many of whom were his friends—to let him take a table, especially after I promised to triple their tips for the night.

He helped me keep tabs on their conversation, but he also made Lacey less nervous. My poor tine was a bundle of pent-up energy sitting there by herself. Texting flirty banter seemed to help in the beginning, but once I saw her face turn sheet white at the sight of Monroe, I was thankful I already had Tolie in place. Now my nerves are running rampant and I won’t be able to relax until my wife is back in our bed.

I flip my silver chip up and down to busy my fingers as I enter the Red Room. Thanks to the porter, Hugo, it looks spotless, although it still has the sweet, smoky scent from the cigars this morning. The only other person here is my father, who sits at the poker table with his spectacles on, texting on his mobile in front of a partially made grid of cards.

“Dad, you call me to haul my arse over here when I’m in the middle of something and you’re playing poker patience? Not even playing, you’re texting. I can tell you right now emojis aren’t going to help you get any better at the game.”

My father grunts and glances over the rim of his glasses at me. He watches as I toss my chip in the air. Usually it calms me, but it’s not working right now.

“Anyone with you?” He bends to retrieve something from underneath his chair.

“Merek’s working my casino on Fremont and Tolie’s at Vincelli’s… where I should be.”

“Ah, with the O’Shea girl.”

“The McKennon wife, you mean.” I catch my chip and give him a pointed look before pocketing it.

“Of course,” he mumbles.

He put on a good show this morning and I know he believes I did what I thought was right. But Finneas McKennon isn’t one for loose ends and until we understand what ties Monroe to Charlie O’Shea, Lacey’s unpredictable loyalties make her just that in his eyes.

“What’ve you got for me, Dad? Seriously, I need to get back.”

“She’s in fecking public, lad. Calm down. She’ll be fine.” As my father gripes, he slaps a manila folder onto the felt poker table and I snatch it up to open it.

“Is this it?”

He nods in my periphery while I sift through the papers, scanning over reports as he briefs me.

“This is all the investigators have so far. I called you straight away because my contact is eating at one of our restaurants on the casino floor during his break. While he’s here, he’s allowing us to study the preliminary file, but he’s taking it with him before he leaves.

“Why wouldn’t you simply take pictures of the thing, then?”

My father scowls at me. “I don’t want this shite on my mobile. Our interest in a case that has nothing to do with us makes us look suspicious as it is. If we ever get subpoenaed and can’t get out of it like what’s been done to the Keeper, we don’t want a megadate trail, or whatever the feck it is you lads call it these days.”

I huff and shake my head. “I can’t be arsed about a metadata trail, Dad. Lacey’s eating dinner with fecking Monroe—”

“Read the file quickly then and get on with it. It’s not much, but it’s enough that I knew you’d want to take a look at it yourself. We only have the coroner’s notes since no autopsy has been done yet. For all intents and purposes, it looks like the victim was bludgeoned to death in one of Rouge’s dressing rooms. No witnesses.”

I stop mid-page flip at the first printed photo. My stomach knots at the brutal murder scene. The woman is sprawled out on the carpeted floor, her bride costume in disarray and her legs twisted at a painful angle. Every inch of her is bruised and bloodied, to the point that her face is unrecognizable. Terror knifes down my spine at the sight of her long, strawberry-blonde hair until my mind registers that it’s not my Lacey.

“Fecking hell. No wonder Moira O’Shea was in a state this morning.”

“The investigator said the victim dyed her hair… but that color is unique.”

“Makes you wonder if they got the wrong target.” My eyes flick to my father’s raised, bushy gray brows before I continue through the report. “Any idea who the murderer was?”

“The police are questioning her fiancé. The man has a criminal history of domestic violence and he didn’t make it to his shift last night. From what my contact said, they’re going to arrest the suspect after they finish interrogating him.”

“And what do you think?”

He rubs his eyes underneath his glasses. “I don’t know, son. There’s history between the victim and the suspect, the experts think they’ve got their man, and it’s also not a typical Garde murder. Too sloppy. All initial signs point to the Baron not being involved.”

“Monroe isn’t a typical Garde member. He’s not accustomed to our ways yet.”

My dad shrugs. “That’s true. But coincidences happen.”

I shake my head. “I don’t buy it. Monroe all but admitted it earlier today on his call with Lacey. I think it’s more than a coincidence.”

“Maybe a warning then? To teach her that she can’t defy him? Garde men have done much worse to willful wives.”

“She’s not his wife,” I growl and my father holds up his hands.

“I know, son… but he doesn’t.”

The truth makes my lip curl and I yank at my hair. This plan chafes against everything I believe.

“Charlie told Lacey that we broke off the engagement and that Monroe was the only one who was willing to marry her.”

“What a fecking gobshite O’Shea is,” my father mutters. “Of course he’d lie to his own daughter.”

“Yeah, but why?”

“Well, as a father myself, we never want our children to see our flaws. Maybe the truth would taint him in her eyes. But we know there would’ve been plenty of suitors, so why did he pick Monroe?”

“I think Monroe has something on the O’Shea. Lacey mentioned she would do anything to protect her family and it’s not her secret to tell.”

“That kind of loyalty may keep her alive… or not.” My father grunts. “I’ve got to say, I didn’t anticipate such a difficult hand when I gave you the queen card a year ago. We’ll have to figure out her secrets on our own, then, won’t we?”

“Or, I ask the Keeper of secrets himself.”

My dad’s lips purse and his eyes narrow. “You think the O’Shea will talk to you?”

“I’ll make sure he knows his son-in-law won’t take no for an answer. I should refresh my memory about his case before I go. Lacey thinks he’s been framed.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me, although he’s certainly no saint. We’re all guilty of something. Being in the Garde gives certain freedoms, but I’m not keen on my son getting roped into this mess. Charlie might be our king, but we’re all one bad police search away from getting caught for something ourselves.”

“I want to find out from the source, Dad. It’s only been hours and I’m already tired of hiding my marriage.”

My father points to the teeth marks on my bare forearm and chuckles. “Clearly not hiding too hard. I see she’s already taken a liking to you.”

I smirk. “My wee wife bites back, that’s for sure. You should see my suite. I’m going to need the cleaning crew to come before one of my cousins brings their wee ones over again.”

“If she’s as fiery as your mother, you’ll have to woo her, you know. Not just steal her.”

I huff. “I already bought her a whole bloody wardrobe and she wasn’t pleased at all. And I don’t know how much wooing I can do with our marriage under wraps.”

“Women don’t need much, son, and Garde women already have everything they want. But your mam taught me that thoughtfulness always wins. That’s all she’ll need.”

“She needs to be safe with me,” I growl. “And away from fecking Monroe.”

Dad laughs and shakes his head. “Don’t worry about the Baron, lad. No matter what influence he has on the O’Shea, he would’ve never been able to take Lacey on. Not without stomping her spirit.”

“Now he won’t get to do either.”

A smile reaches my father’s eyes as he removes an ace of hearts from the grid in front of him. He lays it closer to me and taps it.

“Who would’ve guessed the wild ace had a heart?”

His grin sparks my own and I pull another card from the grid to place the queen with the red camellia in her hand upright beside the ace.

“Only for his queen of diamonds. An ace-queen offsuit is a good starting hand, you know.”

“True…” My father seems to weigh the statement. “But, still… difficult to play.”

“Depends on the player. And I’m the best.” I wink at him and he barks out a laugh before I return the manila folder to him. “It sounds like you lot are sure the police have got their man, but I want to be one-hundred-percent certain Monroe had nothing to do with it. I’ve got to go back to Vincelli’s now, so keep me updated if there’s anything new.”

“Will do, son.”

The moment I step outside the Red Room, Tolie calls and I answer it on the first ring.

“Update? I’m heading back now.”

Tolie swears on the other end, “Fuck, Key, you’re not gonna like it.”

My anxiety spikes, made all the worse as I pass by a slot machine with a jarring jingle. I shove my hand into my pocket to smooth my fingers over my chip.

“Tell me.”

Tolie sighs. “I rang up the check and was about to text you, but when I looked back, there was only cash on the table. He took her.”

Adrenaline floods my veins and I pick up speed, navigating the flashy slot machines and the drunk patrons in their Halloween gear.

“What the feck are you going on about?”

“I mean, Monroe took Lacey. I followed the best I could. He took her to the Baron Suites—’

I hang up before he can finish and my fingers fly over my screen.

Calling her could put her in danger, and I’m hoping that cheeky stunt I pulled when I entered my name as “My Husband” in her contacts doesn’t feck everything up. I already risked texting her once when I messaged her on the way out of the restaurant to tell her I’d return.

She hasn’t texted me back yet, but I message Merek to get a team on the Baron Suites. When I finish, I stare at my screen, no longer caring if I bump into anyone as I walk.

Sweat beads on my brow and my mouth goes dry, but I refuse to look to a bar for relief. My finger presses on my chip so hard that I begin to lose feeling in my thumb. The urges never truly go away. They lie dormant, like a snake in a hole, biding its time to strike, and stress has always made me the perfect prey.

Feck, if she doesn’t message me back—

As soon as the text comes through, I’m reading and typing at the same time.

My mobile vibrates as she calls me. The candid picture I took of Lacey’s gorgeous sleeping form fills my screen before I answer.

“Talk to me, tine.”

She sighs. “I can’t for long. He said I wouldn’t be able to have internet, so I’m glad I can get texts and calls at all. I haven’t found cameras yet, but I’m thinking he might not have them because he’s got bodyguards that are going to check in on me every hour. I was able to sneak off into the bathroom—”

“Who? Who has bodyguards on you?”

Even though I already know, my breath pauses with hers before she answers in a voice barely above a whisper.

“The Baron. Someone took a picture of us at Rouge. He didn’t recognize you, but someone recognized me. It’s in the press.”

My pulse skyrockets. If I hadn’t been so preoccupied all day, I would’ve caught the press coverage. I should’ve caught it, but finally having Lacey in my grasp has consumed my thoughts. I haven’t been paying enough attention to my opponent’s moves and the motherfucker just stole my queen.

“What did he say?”

“He’s decided that I’m too much of a liability for his reputation, so he’s putting me up in the Elephant Room, one of the suites on his floor.”

“Fuck.” I tear at my hair and stagger to a wall to lean on it. “Is he staying there with you?”

“No, thank God. It’s a nice-sized studio with a bed, bath, living space, and kitchenette, but it’d be way too small for the Baron’s big head to stay here. Although I’m not sure what suite he entered after he locked me in this one. The Garde doesn’t allow us to live together, so this was the closest thing he could think of to keep an eye on me.”

“Jesus,” I mutter. Intervening will cause a war, but I don’t care. “Okay, I’ll get you out of there—”

“No!”

My heart stops. “No? What do you mean, no? I’m coming to get you and that’s that.”

“Why? So you can lock me up instead? What’s one gilded cage for another, right?”

My fingers squeeze and my mobile creaks in my hand as I growl into the receiver.

“You’d rather be tortured in my cage than Monroe Baron’s, I promise you that.”

“Did you find anything out about that woman at Rouge?”

Her sudden topic change gives me whiplash and I scoff.

“You can switch subjects for now, but we’re getting back to this one before we finish talking. The authorities think the murderer was the victim’s fiancé. My dad thinks they could be right. It was too… messy for the Garde to have been involved.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her my suspicions, but it does her no good if I’m just being paranoid.

She sighs on the other end. “Okay, okay, good. That makes me feel better then.”

“You feel better? Great. I’ll come fetch you and you can feel better in my arms at home—”

“Kian…” My name is a whispered plea on her lips and it makes me stop to actually listen. “I… I need to tell you something.”

Her normally strong voice wavers at the end and I rub the ache in my chest. I hate that this secret hurts her, but worry and pride war inside me at the fact that she’s finally confiding in me.

“What is it, tine?” I murmur.

She exhales. “I talked to my dad tonight. He admitted he broke the contract. The Baron made a deal with him three years ago that he would testify on my father’s behalf to get him free, but only if I married him.”

“Bloody fecking hell.”

It makes so much sense, but any respect I ever had for Charlie O’Shea goes up in smoke.

“And I couldn’t tell you this earlier, but with everything the Baron said tonight—”

“Tell me.”

“He’s supposed to testify on my father’s behalf, but now he’s holding it over my head, threatening to refuse or wait until after the trial when I’ve proven I can have his heir. Which means there’s no guarantee he’ll even honor the bargain if I marry him. I always thought he’d have to testify if he was subpoenaed.”

“There’s a lot normal people are required to do that the Garde finds ways around.”

“So, that brings me to my decision.” Her voice shakes and I know I’m not going to fecking like this one bit. “I need to keep up appearances. Play the Baron’s game and keep our marriage quiet—”

“Fuck no,” the objection snarls out of me.

“You said yourself that your father wants us to keep things low key until we learn what’s going on between my dad and the Baron. Well this is it. My dad is innocent. I know it. I need to find out what the Baron’s evidence is so I can figure out how to get it into the trial without him.”

The meeting with my father and the heads of households comes to mind. I trust those men, not with my life, but with my secrets. And as much as I hate to admit it, we all need to know what Monroe is up to. If he has the kind of pull to decide whether to free or take down the Keeper of the Garde, what’s to stop him from turning on any of us? He needs to be brought to heel. And the only way to do that is to trick him.

But I have to know Lacey is safe before I agree to anything.

“Has Monroe touched you?” I ask.

Her hesitation makes me growl, “Lacey—”

“Just my forearm. That’s it.”

Strike two.

“Which one?”

“What does that matter?’

“Which… one?”

“Um, okay, my left one, if it’s that important.”

I make a mental note and nod. “Thank you for telling me. And he isn’t staying with you, right?”

“No, that’s the good part about all of this. He says he’ll come back from New York every now and then for photo ops and press junkets, but mostly he wants to teach me a lesson and isolate me—”

“—which you’ll hate.”

“Ugh, yes, but I’ll put up with it until I have answers. Once I find out if he has cameras, I’m going to search for evidence here.”

“And if he doesn’t keep any there?”

“Well, um, then I will… uh…”

I don’t let her stammer long, just enough for her to realize she needs me. When she stops talking altogether, I make my pitch.

“While you look for evidence where you can, I’ll do what I can—”

“No. You don’t have to get involved. All I ask is for you to be okay with keeping our marriage quiet. You don’t have to—”

“I’m helping you. I don’t want you to do this alone. And all I ask is that you call or text me every day. The day you don’t will be the last you’re out of my sight. Do you understand? In the meantime, I can find out shite a lot quicker than you can up in that tower, Rapunzel. I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back into our bed.”

There’s another pause before she whispers, “Even if that means freeing my father?”

“I’m not doing this for your father. I’m doing this for you.”

“Well, I know your family hates him and… and he’s not perfect—”

A dark chuckle escapes me. “Believe me, tine, whatever your father’s done? I’ve done worse. Stay safe and I’ll take care of everything down here. But once all this is over and you’re back in our bed, I’ll get my hands on Monroe Baron and he’ll find out exactly what I’m fecking capable of.”