Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site


Irene Dawes is a criminal in the eyes of the town of Tomoha, Minnesota. The new handsome Marshal is struggling to find out why she is a criminal, and why he is so attracted to her. Is Irene being painted as a bad person, when really she is doing good? Can Dylan find out in time before his destiny becomes intertwined with hers? View table of contents...


Chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25

Submitted:Feb 10, 2013    Reads: 20    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


Dylan grabbed his pocket watch out his front pocket of his vest and looked at the time: 7:25. He sighed and put it back in the small pocket and looked around the dark and lonely town. The center of the town had a nice fountain that spurted water all the time, keeping the central area crisp and refreshing. Everyone would usually meet there if they were to have a date or meeting, but nobody was there tonight. The sky was dark, too dark for this time, which Dylan figured was a small storm coming.
"Hey," A familiar voice said and Dylan turned his head to the left and saw Irene, or Elizabeth, standing near him. Her hair was put up in a neat bun and her face had a faint smile. Her thin black dress made her look more proper than usual, and she wore excess jewelry. Well, she wore jewelry for once, so it was only excess to Dylan's mind.
"I thought you wouldn't come," Dylan smiled and kissed her cheek.
"As usual, I had a small hold up," Irene smiled more and touched his hand.
"What was it this time?" he asked.
"Them," she said and Dylan turned to see Sophie and Carter together, holding hands. Carter smiled as he saw Dylan and ran over.
"Hey Marshal," Carter waved, pulling Sophie with him.
"Sheriff," Dylan acknowledged.
"Miss Elizabeth, looking dashing as always," he smiled and gave her a slight bow.
"Thank you Carter," Irene said.
"Would you like to join us for dinner?" Sophie asked.
"No, thank you for the offer Sophie," Dylan smiled, "I just thought since it's my first day back from the dead, I would spend most of the night with her."
"Ah okay," Carter said, "I guess we'll be off then."
"Bye Miss Lizzie," Sophie smiled and walked off with Carter. Dylan slowly reached his hands towards Irene's and then softly squeezed it, feeling the cold from her bare hand.
"I have something to give to you," he said and his hand slipped from her grasp and his warm mittens escaped from her hand. He dug through his thick winter jacket and was looking for something. A smile appeared on his face as he obviously found what he was looking for. He pulled out a heart shaped glass container with a pink liquid.
"Perfume," Irene quickly noticed and had a faint smile.
"Well," he chuckled, "I don't know if you'll like it but it's the more feminine version of mine and I liked it, and I thought it would smell amazing on you, not like you don't already smell good."
"Let me try," she commanded and sprayed a small sample on her arm. Sniffing the small part of her arm, she smiled, "Not bad."
"Here," he gently grabbed her arm and smelled too, smiling while he sniffed, "I think it is perfect for you."
"Where did you get it?" she got close to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"I ordered it awhile back from France, where it originally came from Persia. I just thought you would like it."
"That's really sweet of you," Irene smiled.
"You deserve all the love you can get from me," he smiled back and kissed her cheek.
"Not really," she grimaced and moved her face away from his hot, tender, and prickly mouth.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, looking worried as always when she wasn't in the mood.
"I just haven't been completely honest with you, I mean I've been telling the truth I just haven't told you everything."
"Oh," Dylan wondered, "Well do you think we could talk about this somewhere more private then?"
"I don't really want to ruin the evening," Irene laughed nervously.
"The evening won't be ruined if you're still with me and vice versa," he smiled.
"I know a place we can go," she smiled slightly.
"So you own this hotel room?" Dylan asked, looking at the decorative, and expensive items in their room.
"I do. It was cheaper than paying for it every night a couple years back, and I still use it now sometimes if I need to change quickly, but it's not used for it's main purpose anymore."
"So," he took his boots off and sat in the the middle of the bed, having a little fun bouncing on it, "what do you wish to talk about?"
"Well," she took her beauiful flats of her feet and got on top of the bed to face him, "I guess I could talk about this room. It... has a lot of history in it."
"The Prostitution Room," Dylan muttered.
"How did you know about that?" Irene looked a little frightened that he knew.
"I uh... I just figured?" he asked and layed down on the bed.
"From earlier," she said and layed down next to him, keeping all eye-contact, "I don't deserve any love you give me because I abused love in the past, and I don't know what love is anymore... the true meaning of love."
"Can I tell you a secret?" Dylan whispered close to her ear.
"Mhm," she nodded.
"I got kicked out of military school in London," he said.
"Doing what exactly?" Irene asked.
"I couldn't keep my jeans up," he grimaced.
"You?! Gentleman, Marshal Dylan you!? The sweetest, most dazzling and handsome man in the world, you couldn't keep your pants zipped?"
"Yeah," he whispered and stared at the ceiling. Irene couldn't really believe it, but the more she looked at his face, the more she saw that it was true, and he looked insanely guilty. She inched closer to him and wrapped her hand across his face and pulled it so she could look into his dreamy brown eyes.
"No matter how many girls you sleep or slept with, I don't care," she whispered, "I just want to make sure that you know what you're doing. Whatever makes you feel good, sometimes we need to do that after a long time of pain."
"The feeling you get, lasts maybe a couple of hours, and it feels really great and all, but it eventually dies and usually makes you feel more worse than before you did it. Every minute with you gives me a feeling, even if I'm just looking at you, but.. it's a different feeling; a better feeling. I know it might sound wrong, but you give me that feeling without me feeling guilty, that's what true love is. I stopped as soon as I came here, promising that I would never feel that pleasure until I was married or something, but when I first heard about you on my first week here, the way they said your name, there was a tingle about it. Then the picture just made my heart melt, and hearing your voice for the first time just completely froze time as my brain just stopped functioning. Our first kiss, whether it was in a jail cell or not, I just felt like I could never let you go.
"You give me a reason to wake up everyday Irene. I wake up knowing that as soon as I reach the Marshal's office, I would have the slightest chance of seeing you. Even if the chance of seeing you or talking to you was slim, I just wanted to make sure you were okay and just see you smile. Your smile and laugh is more precious to me more than gold or any material thing," at this she smiled and laughed slightly, "Nothing would make me more happy than to see you happy. I guess losing my mother was a hard loss, and pleasure was the only way to quickly cover it up, but with you, I just seem to forget of all the bad problems and focus on other things like how your hair looks or just what we were going to do for the day. You take my mind of pain, in a good way. Irene, I love you."
"I... don't really know what to say," Irene looked a little shocked but still held his face with her hand.
"If this is all overwhelming for you, I'm sorry, or you don't feel that way. It's just-"
"No, no," she smiled and stroked his rough face, "it's more of a huge relief that you said that. I always thought you were that type of guy who would just enter my life, and leave soon after, but... I don't want that to happen. I want this to happen as slow as possible, so I don't miss a thing and can just experience it all. I love you too, so much."
"I... can't even think what life would be life without you," he put his hand at the edge of her dress, and gently touched her leg.
"I couldn't imagine right now without you," she got on top of him and kissed him. His hand traveled up her dress more and she unbuttoned his vest. They both smiled and their hearts laughed together inside their ribcages.
"Take your coat off and stay awhile," she said. He smiled and used his abs to pull himself up, easily taking his winter coat off and throwing it on the floor. He immediately grabbed Irene's face gently and kissed her lips gently. She threw his vest to the floor next to his coat after unbuttoning it and all that was left was his long sleeve red formal shirt. They kissed for several minutes and didn't care. He kissed her more until he realized she wanted to ask something.
"Dylan?" she asked.
"Yes my love?" he smiled and asked.
"If you could go back and change anything, what would you do?"
"I would have met you sooner, and helped you prevent your father's death. I would've loved to know you before any of this happened," he whispered. Irene's reality hit when she realized she actually hadn't thought of her father for a while.
"I'm sorry," he said when he realized he hit a soft spot.
"It's, um it's okay," she tried to shake it off. Dylan gently pulled her off him and put her to his side. Facing her, he pulled her hair out of the bun and let the slightly curly black hair to drape down towards her breasts.
"What was your dad like?" he asked, as he played with her hair.
"He was the best. Whenever he was not busy, he'd be playing chess with me, teaching me how to ride a horse, take me hunting with him and his friends, or just even pretend sword fight. He let my imaginations run wild and let me do some of the dangerous stuff because he knew I could handle it. I know it's wrong of me to say this, but he finds me the favorite of my other sister. I guess, as Rebecca hung around more with my mother and followed her like a puppy dog, I admired my dad and just did whatever he did. He would always lead me in adventures. He was my best friend since nobody wanted to be my friend at school. They all thought I was some snotty rich girl, although I don't deny that I had a bad attitude."
"I would've been friends with you if you weren't a grade ahead you smart, brilliant girl," he smiled and wrapped his right arm around her neck.
"Thanks," she smiled," Anyways, my dad let me in a meeting once. I didn't know what anyone was talking about back then, but I thought I was the coolest person ever because I got hang around grown ups. Little did I know your father was going to be there... and well I guess you could say that's when we first met. I was around twelve."
"Is that when he hurt you?" he asked, stroking her cheek, hoping to keep her calm.
"No, but it was probably where the idea started," she grimaced, "I lied to you Dylan."
"About?"
"When you asked if I was afraid of anything when we first met and brought up your dad... I said he doesn't scare me, but before he poisoned me he asked me to do something..."
"He offered you a clean slate..." he whispered.
"Ain't you smart?" Irene slightly grinned, "Anyways, I was terrified when he asked that. He said, that he would also hurt you if I didn't, little did I know he poisoned my tea but... I almost said yes because I didn't want him to hurt you."
"Irene," he leaned close to her neck and whispered quietly, "No matter what the circumstances are, whether he has me at gunpoint or something else, and he offers that for my life. I will not let you do that. I would rather die than to see you with him like that. Our love will survive forever, but if you think doing that with him will protect our love, it would only shatter. It would break my heart."
"It's just so tempting..." Irene stuttered and a tear fell down her cheek.
"Irene, you can get through this," he lifted her face and smiled, "Nobody can touch you in a way that makes you feel like that. I know that the feeling is really tempting, but you have to promise you won't let anyone touch you like that, and I won't let anyone do that either. Every man who does that goes down into my killing list, and he won't make it off alive."
Irene slightly laughed and tried to change the conversation, "How's the groin?"
"Sore," Dylan smiled.
"Sorry about that," she grinned.
"It's okay," he smiled, "You have been touching down there lately."
Irene rolled her eyes, "It's accidental."
"Uh-huh sure," he grinned.
"It's true," she laughed and slapped his shoulder. Dylan didn't care because he liked to see her laugh.
"Where did Barry touch you?" he asked, "I'm not curious, I just want to know so my hands stay away from that general area."
"No need," she said.
"What?"
"There's no need to avoid that really, I didn't give him my permission, but you have always had mine."
"Oh," he said, "Well, I still want to take it slow...er."
"Good thinking," she smiled, "So do I."
"So... Lizzie, what do you want to do?" he asked.
"First off," she smiled and elbowed him hard in the groin, "that's your apology for making me think you were dead."
"Women..." he muttured under his breath and grimaced in pain, "Don't you understand how it feels?!"
"I'm Lizzie right now, I completely forgot our previous conversation," Irene giggled, "And trust me, it hurts down there for us too."
"Haha, very funny," Dylan smiled and wrapped his arms around her again but more tightly and kissed her cheek, "So, what do you want to do?"
"I just want to be with you," she whispered and started to unbutton his shirt.
"Ahem," he coughed, "You need permission to do that."
"I break laws all the time," she smiled and took his shirt off.
"You just want to stare at my amazing body," he grinned.
"Wow, you have been reading my mind all day."
"What can I say? I can sorta' read you now," he smiled as his hand went up her dress again.
"Can you now? Okay, what am I thinking?" she asked, grinning and touching his bare, slightly hairy chest.
"That you love me," he smiled.
"Close," she smirked.
"Close?" he laughed, "What is close to that?"
"I was thinking that you love me."
"Hmm... that is close, and true," he smiled and kissed her.
"Are you okay?" she asked, rubbing his shoulders.
"What do you mean?" he asked, "I feel great."
"Your shoulders are really tight," she said and squeezed the deep muscles next to his neck. He grimaced in pain and moved away.
"They're just sore," he said, gently rubbing them.
"Lay down," she commanded, "I promise I will not hurt you. I'll be gentle."
"You better," he said and lay down on his stomach, exposing his bare back. She got on top of him and gently used her fingers and palm to softly dig into the sore and twisted muscles. He took a deep breath and relaxed, letting her dig into her broad muscles.
"That feels good," he laughed.
"I told you it would," she laughed with him and then decided to lay on his back. She stroked the hairs on his big arms as his big lungs inhaled.
"This feels even better," he said and rolled over to face her. Her smile was so amazing that he immediately grinned and laughed.
"Is everything alright?" she laughed.
"Everything is perfect," he blushed and held her hands.
"You're blushing," Irene noticed.
"I know."
"Oh, well I just wanted to point it out."
"You are so cute," he laughed more.
"Is cute a compliment?" she asked, moving her long hair behind her ears.
"Yes. Being cute is very... cute."
"Very discriptive," she smirked and stroked his chest.
"Okay, just because you are the smartest person for your age, does not mean you can tease me about my learning and brain abilities."
"I'm not making fun of you," she got close and whispered, "I would never tease you in any hurtful way."
"But you would tease me in a joking way," he laughed.
"As long as it wasn't hurtful," she smiled and tapped his chin, "and I never really teased you on your smartness."
"Okay, okay, so maybe I exaggerated a little," he said, "I just wanted to see what you would say." There was a slight pause of silence as they stared and smiled at each other.
"Do you think this will actually work?" Irene looked deeply into his eyes and whispered.
"What do you mean?" he lifted his body up and got close to her once more.
"Us. Do you think it will work? If it could work?"
"I don't know," he shook his head but smiled, "but... I want it to work, and I will never give up on you, on us."
"I want it to work too, but I am afraid it will be too hard and everything will be on the line. It seems like a big risk because I don't want to lose you."
"Not if we keep it a secret," he whispered and stroked her cheek.
"How long will that last though? We can't hide it forever with this town getting bigger, and both of us being the most popular talk and people in this entire section of Minnesota. Someone is going to eventually find out I'm Lizzie, then see us kissing, or something else."
"Then I could act that I had no idea you were her," he smiled.
"Oh yeah, like you couldn't recognize me," Irene rolled her eyes.
"Nobody will find out. I promise."
"Your dad knows though," Irene blurted out, but soon regretted it as soon as she said it.
"He does?" he slowly asked.
"I-I overheard him with Barry talking, and he assumes you know. Barry saw me kiss you... which is my fault."
"No Irene, trust me, I would have kissed you too. You're irresistible," he smiled.
"Don't you understand Dylan? If your father knows, he could fire you! You could lose your job and everything!"
"Irene, he can't do that. He ain't the Mayor."
"Have you personally ever met the Mayor?" Irene asked.
"No, he's always too sick to come to city hall and meetings," Dylan said.
"So who speaks for him?"
"My... dad. Holy - you don't think that he's the Mayor!?"
"Wow! Congratulations detective!"
"That was a little hurtful," Dylan said.
"I'm sorry," she apologized.
"It's ok, it's just a lot to take in..." he sighed and shoved his face in a pillow. Irene could tell that there was confusion but also frustration coming from his grip on the pillow. She put her hand on his shoulder and could feel the muscles tense up.
"Dylan, I really am sorry," she whispered.
"I know," his voice muffled through the feather pillows, "I can't trust my father anymore. The only person I can trust is you." Irene gluped in her throat slightly and sighed deeply.
"I wouldn't even trust myself Dylan."
"Irene, you've saved my life countless times and never disappointed me in anything, whether facts or information, you always told the truth. I can trust you," he gently laid the pillow down behind him and looked at her. She looked back at him, and had almost scared eyes.
"Everything will be alright darling, I promise," he whispered and kissed her forehead, "We should probably get some sleep, it is almost eleven-thirty," he said.
"Wow, time went by kind of fast," she said.
"I know," he smiled, "Too bad it doesn't go slower when we are together."
"Yeah," she whispered, "that would be better."
"Are you tired?" he asked.
"No," she yawned.
He laughed softly, "You are tired."
"No... my eyes are just feeling droopy and I accidentally yawned."
"Yeah, sure. Irene, get some rest," he said and kissed her.
"Don't leave me then."
"I won't leave you here," he smiled.
"Don't leave me ever," she whispered.
"I unfortunately have a job, but... I will never leave you like that."
"Without you, I'd be nothing."
"Go to sleep," he said as he cradled her in his arms and she fell asleep.
"Do you notice something wrong with Miss Elizabeth?" Carter asked Sophie as he took a sip of his brandy.
"No," Sophie shook her head, "Do you notice something?"
"She just... I don't know. She's very defensive around Dylan," he shrugged.
Sophie rolled her eyes, "Carter, for two days Lizzie thought he was dead, I'm pretty sure they have a lot to talk about."
"True," he smiled, "I never thought of that. You are so smart. I think you don't deserve to be a maid of a governess of Embasssy. You deserve to be something else, but something is holding you back."
"Thank you for the compliment Carter," she laughed, "but nothing is holding me back."
"Are you sure? Is Lizzie holding you back."
"Not at all," she said a little firmly.
"Okay," he smiled and looked at his glass, "I just think you could achieve more."
"Thank you Carter."
"No problem."
"No I mean thank you for dinner," she thanked him.
"No problem then, it was rather enjoyable."
"Excuse me," Barry grabbed Sophie from her bar stool and pulled her to him, "Miss you are under arrest."
"What?!" she shrieked.
"Barry!" Carter yelled and shoved him, "What are you doing?!"
"I'm arresting her obviously," he sneered.
"You have no authority! You aren't part of this police anymore!"
"Maroni ordered it, so I'm doing it since Dylan is having a romantic night with his sweetheart."
"What are the charges?" Sophie asked quietly, trying not to get attention even though the bar was silent now.
"You have been conspiring with Miss Dawes and helping her escape multiple times."
"What?!" Carter shoved Barry harder, "Sophie has never conversed with Irene nor met her. The only time they saw each other was when-"
"When she attacked me," Sophie said and stared into Barry's eyes. He stared back and saw that her eyes weren't trembling. Barry was extremely good at telling if someone was lying, hiding something, or scared. Sophie was neither of these things.
"She attacked you?" Barry asked.
"Yes, Carter, Dylan, and I were heading to a restaraunt when we took a shortcut and she attacked me for money. If it wasn't for Carter, I would've been dead. If I was conspiring with that freak why would she attack me?!"
"You saved her? Where was Dylan?"
"I got a hit on Irene, and she realized the fight was not worth it. Dylan was making reservations," Carter nodded.
"Sorry for the interruption then," Barry tipped his cowboy hat to Sophie and realized his mistake, "Carter, may I speak too you outside?"
"It'll be my pleasure," he said and walked towards the door with him. Carter turned around to give Sophie an okay sign and smiled. She grimaced and sat down on her barstool, having a drink of Carter's brandy.
"I need you to do something," Barry said.
"How can I trust you?" Carter grunted, "You almost raped a girl today."
"A criminal," Barry snorted.
"It's still a crime," Carter crossed his arms.
"I know where Irene will be tonight," he said quickly and grinned.
"Really?"
"Mhm..."
Dylan couldn't sleep. After Irene told him the news of his father knowing, he was thinking of all the possible scenarios that could happen and how he could avoid them. His head hurt from thinking too much and he couldn't force his body to sleep. Irene fell asleep quickly but still wrapped her arms around him. He somtimes gently touched and rubbed her cold hands or shoulders, but he was mostly afraid of waking her up, knowing she was a light-sleeper. His thoughts were interrupted however as there was a rapping on the door.
He waited to see if it was his imagination or if it was real.
The person knocked again, louder.
"Irene," he whispered and gently shook her.
"I know," she said and opened her eyes quickly. Dylan could see that she didn't even feel tired, or look tired for that matter. She threw the covers to Dylan's side and got out of bed, still in pajamas (Dylan didn't recall her changing into her nightgowns). Walking over to the door, she grabbed a small pistol laying on a table and reached the door.
The door pounded.
"Okay, shut up already, I heard you the first twenty times," she yelled.
"Open the door!" the stranger commanded.
"Yeah, why don't you go away peacefully and then I'll open the door," she said more quieter.
"I got the place surrounded Irene," he said, "Just come quietly and nobody get's hurt."
Suddenly, something started to faintly beep. Irene turned around and looked at her closet. She motioned Dylan to go in the closet. He jumped up immediately and went in there. After many seconds, he came out with a piece of paper.
It's Carter, don't hurt him seriously. He is alone.
Irene groaned slightly and handed to paper back to Dylan.
"What do you want me to do?" Dylan whispered.
"Nothing, go hide," she commanded. Dylan in his heart wanted to help, but obeyed what she said and hid in the darkness. Irene reached for the door knob, hesitating whether to open it or not.
"I have a gun, sir, and I will use it on you if that be the case," she said and pulled the door knob. Suddenly the door was thrust back into her face and knocked her off her feet. Carter ran in and grabbed Irene's nightgowns and thrashed her around, shoving her into the wood floors repeatedly, bashing her head onto the hard ground. Irene kicked him away, but her vision blurred from the repeated head bashing and she slowly tried to get up, but blacked out. Carter smiled and pulled out handcuffs and a knife.
"I got you this time," he told her, even though he knew she probably didn't hear it, he still wanted to brag about it.
"Not so fast," Dylan said in a deep voice and punched Carter in the face. The room was completely dark, so complete visage was nearly impossible, which gave Dylan an advantage. Carter tried to fight back but Dylan anticipated every movement and counter-attacked every throw. Eventually, a Carter swung the knife high and it barely scraped Dylan's arm, leaving a sharp pain. Dylan had enough of the fight, he punched Carter again in the face, this time with maximum power. Carter flew and hit the wall, knocking himself out.
Dylan sighed and shook his sore wrist, trying to shake the pain away from the impact from Carter's face. He grabbed Carter by his collar and started to drag him out of the room.
"Sir! We heard a ruckus and came straight away," a young bellhop came running by, "Is everything alright?"
"Yes, I just need you to take this Sheriff to the hospital, he was attacked," Dylan said and handed the young boy Carter's limp body.
"Right away sir!" he said and left dragging Carter's body. Dylan turned around and headed back inside the room, locking the door. He saw Irene's body on the floor motionless and ran straight to it. Lifting her head up gently, he tried to wake her up.
"Irene, darling, are you okay?" he asked and gently shook her while holding her head. She awoke startled and frightened, looking around the room dazed, but tried to get up.
"Steady Irene," Dylan commanded, "not so fast. You blacked out."
"Yeah, I know," she whispered.
"Here," Dylan said and lifted her up and laid her on the sofa, letting her head rest on the arm of it, "I'll get something for your head."
"Dylan," she said and grabbed his arm, "I'm fine."
"No, you're not," Dylan sighed.
Irene felt a drop of liquid drip on her arm, "Are you bleeding?"
"Uh..." he said and looked at his arm as blood gushed out of the wound.
"Oh my," she got up immediately, "You are. "
"Irene, it's just a scratch," Dylan groaned and sat on the couch while Irene ran to her bathroom. She came back with a wet cloth and small containers. Lighting a candle, she lit up the room with a faint luminence and Dylan noticed that there were two small containers: one was obviously salt, but the other one she didn't know what it was.
"Salt?" he asked.
"I just want to make sure there was no poison on the knife," she said and gently dabbed the wound, letting the blood seep into the cloth. Pouring salt on the now red cloth, she observed the reaction occuring.
"Good," she said, "it wasn't poison."
"What it if was?" he asked.
"I would try and suck all of it out of your blood," she said.
"That's... gross," he shivered.
"Hey, we do anything for the people we love," she smiled, "Like hurting your best friend."
He grinned, "Or raiding a large group of Spaniards to save me. I never thanked you for that actually."
"Sure you did," she sat next to him and started to grab some wraps she could use as bandages, "just think of tonight as the thank you."
"A simple night in a hotel room is not enough," he said.
"That expensive perfume was good enough," she smiled and grabbed the other bottle, "and love is enough anyways. Who said this was a simple night in a hotel room anyways?"
"What is that?" he asked.
"Alcohol," she said and started unscrewing the cap.
"Ooh," Dylan smiled.
"Don't get your hopes up, this won't be so enjoyable," she grimaced and pour some onto the cloth. She gently applied the cloth and he yelped in pain, shoving her hand away.
"Stop! God damn it!" Dylan shrieked.
"Dylan, I know it hurts, but I need to put this on here so it doesn't get infected," Irene whispered, a little annoyed.
"No, that burns too much," he breathed deeply.
"Dylan, sweetheart, look at me," she said. He rose his head and looked at her, his heart trembling from the sting in his arm. Irene sighed and then started to kiss his neck gently, then tried to get him relaxed with her left hand while gently applying the alcohol. He barely budged but wrapped his other arm around her lower waist and pulled her in closer, kissing her.
"There all done," she whispered and kissed his cheek.
"I didn't even feel it," he smiled and kissed her cheek back.
"That was the point," she said and back away, her hands moving away from his face and started to wrap his arm. She tied a knot tightly and he flinched slightly, "Sorry."
"It's quite alright, sorry for being a twit with the alcohol and all," he said.
"Don't worry about it, Birdy cried for about an hour," Irene smiled.
"That's because she's a girl," he laughed.
"Oh," she rose a brow.
"I didn't mean to offend you, I mean, well you are a woman, a very beautiful, strong, powerful woman," he laughed nervously and touched her hand.
"Again, very observant of you," she giggled.
"Oh, so we head back to that conversation," he smiled and pulled her closer back as soon as she put all the medical supplies back on the table. She put her knees on the couch as he leaned back while she leaned towards him.
"How did you change into nightgowns?" he asked and rubbed her back, "I was awake the entire time."
"Dylan..." she laughed, "You fell asleep after about five minutes."
"What? No, I was up," he said.
"When I got up, you were fast asleep almost falling off the bed. I pulled you over towards me, and you instantly cuddled me," she laughed.
"Oh," he rubbed his head, "sorry."
"Don't be, it was rather cute," she smiled and kissed the side of his lips.
"So... you have a telegraph in your hotel room?" he asked.
"Yes," she moved her hair out of her face, "as you can see it is rather useful."
"Yes, it is."
"Get some sleep, you're tired," she whispered.
"No, I have to make sure your head is ok," he smirked.
"My head is fine, get sleep," she commanded.
"Sleep with me then," he commanded back and kissed her.
"Deal," she whispered and kissed him back. He smiled and picked her up, using his strong arms to carry her weight. Walking towards the bed, he gently laid her down on it as he removed the messy covers. She just lay there, staring at him deeply. Laughing, he got under and pulled her close and he could feel her gentle breath.
"I love you," she whispered and slightly giggled.
"I know," he smiled and kissed her, "I will see you in the morning darling."
"Hopefully," she grinned. He grinned back and closed his eyes.
Irene woke up to a familiar smell if she was in her own kitchen: tea. She lifted her head up and her messy hair covered her face. Removing her hair she saw Dylan pouring some tea, with a huge smile on his face.
"Good morning gorgeous," he ran over and kissed her on the forehead.
"Morning," she smiled and got out of bed.
"How is your head?" he asked.
"A little sore and heavy, but other than that, it's functional," she said.
"Of course," he grinned and walked over to the tea pot, "Want some?"
"Yes, please," she walked into her bathroom and shut the door. Dylan knew the tea was ready and poured it into two teacups for her and himself. He asked the bellhop if they had any tea if they usually served Irene and they in fact did. So Dylan just thought that it would be sweet of him to make one of her favorite tea.
She walked out of the bathroom still in her pajamas, "How is your arm?"
"Still kind of stinging but... it's not painful," he said.
"That's good," she walked behind the couch and wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.
"Here," he smiled and handed her a tea cup. She gladly took it and had a quick sip, enjoying the warmth and comfort it gave, which made Dylan happy knowing he made her somewhat comfortable.
"That is really good," she smiled, "Thank you."
"Anything for you," he smirked and had a sip of his tea as she sat down next to him.
"You might want to change your outfit, just in case someone gets second thoughts what we did last night."
"What would be bad if someone thought that?" he smirked.
"It's a little immoral," she said.
"But you and I are anything but moral, except maybe you and your Christian morals, which maybe one day I wil learn from you," he smiled.
"I would say to come to church with me but... everyone there knows I'm Irene, and you are... yeah, that would not go so well," she laughed.
"I understand," he said, "but back to the earlier conversation... I did not bring extra attire. I did not know it would be needed."
"Here," she got up and grabbed some clothes from her closet, "You seem to fit around my dad's size, try some of his stuff on."
"Alright," he grunted and got off the couch, "Don't look then."
"No promises," she said and turned her back, sipping the rest of her tea.
"Fits fine," he put the jeans over and grabbed a more formal shirt.
"Good," she said and turned around.
"I have five minutes until work," he groaned.
"Wait!" she said running to the closet, "Give me a moment to change, I want to go with you."
"I don't know, I only got two minutes," he jokingly objected.
"I accept that challenge," he heard her laugh and enjoyed her enthusiasm for wanting to come with him.
"Well hurry up then sweetheart!" he yelled in a joking manner.
"Done," she smiled and walked out in a nice outfit, just not really warm.
"Are you going to be warm in that? It's supposed to be cold today," he asked.
"I'll be fine, the Marshal's office is not that far," she said.
"Okay, let's go," he smiled and grabbed her cold hand. They left the room and walked out of the hotel to the cold chilly morning. Dylan sighed, then took his winter coat off and put it on Irene, because he obviously saw she was freezing.
"Told you," he grinned.
"Don't rub it in," she laughed and gently elbowed him.
"Ok, sorry," he smiled.
"Don't be, it was rather sweet of you," she smirked and put her small arms in the huge jacket, but felt warmth and smelled the residue of Dylan's perfume.
Dylan smelled her neck and smiled, "You are wearing it."
"Of course," she grabbed his hand and laughed. They walked holding hands until they reached the office and it was exaclty eight o'clock.
"Dammit I have to go," he sighed.
"I'll see you around surely," she said and took his jacket off to give to him. He gladly accepted it and put it on himself.
"Lunch today? One o'clock sound good? And dinner at ten?" he asked really fast.
"Hmm... I'll have to look into my shcedule," she smiled but then quickly frowned when she saw a familiar face.
"Irene," Maroni acknowleged, "son."
"Dad," Dylan tried to smile.
"Sorry to bother your moment, but may I speak to my son, Miss Dawes?"
"The pleasure is all yours," she rolled her eyes and step a few feet away, although she could hear perfectly fine from where she was.
"How long have you known?" Maroni grabbed his son's arm hard.
"When she saved me from people you sent to kidnap me," he said and shoved his father's hand off him.
"I didn't send anyone, you know I was out of town, it would be impossible," his father said, "So, are you going to break up with her then?"
"Does it look like I will?" Dylan asked harshly.
"Well, if you were the smart son I think you are you would. She's trouble, obviously, and she's a criminal. A highly wanted criminal. Now, I can tell from the way she looks at you, that she is using you, I don't want to see my son get involved in a poor relationship only to see him die, get used, or heartbroken."
"I won't. I love her too much, and she is not using me."
"Says who? Her? You can't trust a woman like that, if I were you, I would especially stay away from her hotel room. She's using you for sex, I can see it," Maroni spit at the dirt.
"You don't want me to sleep with her because you want her all to yourself," Dylan was actually shocked that he said that, but he was even more shocked that his own father slapped him. Irene broke them up, as Dylan was ready for a fist fight against his own father.
"Stop it, you're family, no matter what the circumstances are," she said and gave Dylan a look.
"She's right, for once," Maroni said. Irene turned and gave him a dirty look, while he smirked.
"Well, I better get going," she smiled and turned to Dylan, dropping something in his pocket, "in case you get bored." Dylan grabbed the key out of his pocket and saw it was an extra hotel room key. He smirked and then she kissed him, better than usual to make Maroni mad, which it did because Dylan kissed her back, smiling.
"I'll see you around," she said and walked off. Dylan just whistled slightly and grinned.
"Break up with her," he commanded.
"Or what? Fire me?" he fought back.
"No, I won't fire you, you're too good at your job for me to do that," he said, "I was going to use a more harmful way, if you know what I mean."
"If you hurt her, I will kill you," Dylan grabbed his father's collar.
"You would really choose an infamous criminal, who sleeps her way through to stay alive, over the man who raised you when your mother died?" Maroni asked, "How pitiful."
"You didn't raise me, you sent me to a private school far away to get rid of me."
"And see what you have become: a nice, strong, compassionate man who has a brave heart," Maroni smiled.
"The complete opposite of you," Dylan sneered and left his father speechless and in the cold.
"Hello darling," Irene heard as she started packing up her horse. She turned to see Maroni leaning against the corner of a wall.
"Goodbye," she said and got ontop of her horse.
"Not so fast," Maroni ran and grabbed the reigns, "we should chat for a moment."
"There's nothing to discuss."
"Other than the fact of my son dating you," he sneered and grabbed her leg.
"That is none of your business, and really it's your son's choice not yours," Irene sneered back.
"I want my son to see the true nature of you, the disgusting and dangerous side of yourself."
"Maybe your son likes that kind of stuff," Irene smiled.
"He hasn't seen that side of you yet," he said, "and I do not want to see my son heartbroken by a bitch who thinks she can use every man in the state of Minnesota for her own damn benefit."
"I am not using your son," she said.
"So you truly do love him? How wonderful," he smirked.
Irene jumped off her horse, "If you kill him, I swear I will come after you."
"Like you already aren't," he smiled, "but no, I will not kill my only son, no matter how much he can cause distress to my heart."
"You are just jealous that my heart belongs to your son than to you," Irene growled.
"It won't for much long," he smiled, "you see... I have convinced him that there is no way for you two to be together without one of you dying, so sadly I have convinced him to break up with you."
"He won't," Irene smiled, "He will never give up on me, he loves me too much."
"I can agree on that too, my son loves you way too much, enough to get hurt."
"Just accept the fact that you will never get me into a bed, and then into prison. I ain't going to let you, and Dylan won't let you do that to me either."
"Not if he is extremely hurt," Maroni smiled.
"You said you wouldn't-"
"I said I woudn't kill him," Maroni smirked. His face was serious, and there was no hidden poker face at all. He was not lying.
"Good luck with that," Irene grabbed her horses reigns and started walking away.
"Just remember how he loves you too much, and how heartbroken it would be to have you just disappear," Irene could hear his evil and menacing laugh.
"Again, good luck with that," she grinned but was stopped by Barry. Irene reached for a pistol in her saddle but was instantly punched, knocking her away from her horse.
"Not this time Irene," he smiled.




0

| Email this story Email this Novel | Add to reading list



Reviews

About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.