Before he left, Daniel lifted her from the chair with ease and carried her to the bed. He made sure the remote control, phone, menu and anything else she would need was close enough to reach without moving.
Daniel took one last look over his shoulder at her, then closed the door behind him. The man was a complete mystery, which only made her interest in him more palpable. That in itself confused the hell out of her.
In twenty-five years, Amelia had never been the kind of girl who people wanted to be friends with. On the outside, she was average everything. Average looks, average height, and average weight. Nothing stood out, except her Irish heritage. With jet-black hair, pale skin, and deep blue eyes, almost anyone who saw her could tell.
On the inside, Amelia hid her advantage: higher than average IQ, technology whiz, and the keen ability to come up with innovative – not to mention incredibly profitable – ideas. Two days before her nineteenth birthday, she launched what had become into the world’s most popular online fantasy RPG. By her twentieth birthday, she was worth more than she ever dreamed.
But all the money in the world couldn’t get her what she really wanted and although it opened many doors, the people behind them were even worse than those she attempted to befriend while growing up. Was no one in the world just in it for the friendship? Did everything have to be about getting something of monetary value in return?
In the hour or so she spent with Daniel, Amelia began to wonder. Obviously he didn’t know who she was – thanks to the pseudonym she used for her professional life – or her net worth, but seemed genuinely concerned about her wellbeing.
Sure, he had a few secrets of his own, but in time, she could figure him out. And Amelia Quinlivan, known in the professional world as Alex Quinn, had enough time, patience, and technical know-how to find what she needed.
Right now, she needed someone and from the looks of things, so did Daniel.
The woman at the counter made eyes at him from the moment he stepped inside the small chemists. His best chance at not being recognised was to look like he had every right to be there. But how did he do that? He didn’t belong here, or anywhere.
Daniel knew it was a mistake to stay with the lass. A man branded as a terrorist had no right taking advantage of a young, pretty girl. He had no right staying the night with her either. The good lord himself, if he were paying attention, would surely strike him down for entertaining the thoughts he had around Amelia.
She reminded him of those dark haired angels lining the shelf at the top of the hutch his Ma used to hold the good crockery she pulled out on special occasions and holidays. So beautiful a person couldn’t help but stare, but the longer they did, the deeper they fell into insanity.
Amelia. He chuckled to himself. She had buckets of persistence and more stubborn grit and determination than anyone he knew. Aside from Ma.
God, how he missed her. He missed them all. The agonising pain he felt when the news first made its way to him subsided over time into a lingering heavy ache in his chest and a perpetual lump of anguish in his throat.
The woman cleared her throat, watching him.
Daniel nodded; mostly to himself.
He shouldn’t be here.
But he was; collecting the necessary items to treat her wounds. Antiseptic cleaner for the cuts on her hands. Bandages and gauze to dress her knee. The rows of chocolate near the register caught his eye. Dare he purchase some for her? Did she like chocolate? What kind?
Lord above! His mind raced, filled with the thoughts of a teenaged boy trying to impress a lass he favoured.
At the last second he took one of each and put them on the counter with the other items. He sent up a silent prayer to not be recognised…for all the bloody good it would do him. No doubt God himself abandoned Daniel on that day, and no amount of prostrating before this alter or that was going to see him back in the big man’s good graces.
“That be all?” the woman asked, scanning the items through and dropping them into a single carrier bag with the shop’s logo printed on the side.
“Aye,” he said. “That’ll be all, ta.”
Daniel gave her the money and accepted his change, and not until he stood outside the shop did he dare take another breath.
He spent fifteen years doing what others commanded of him. Fifteen years of being told where to take a piss and when and for how long. Fifteen years of confinement.
The simple act of going to the shops, of walking down the street, feeling the chill Irish wind whipping through his hair and over his cheeks invigorated him. But the price of this freedom was too high. And all too soon the exhilaration left him. He felt the ghost of emotion tugging at his soul, what was left of it.
Happiness, for a man like Daniel Byrne, had no home in this world, or the next.