Aidan (Knight's Edge Series Book 3) Read online

  She had endured more of her fair share of humiliations and pettiness.

  She had buried her head in the sand to stay in a loveless marriage for the sake of her kids. At least, until they were old enough for Moira to take action.

  Staring at the damning piece of paper, she realized she couldn’t wait that long.

  She wouldn’t wait another day.

  Enough with the pretense.

  Except, she would be wise about it. She wouldn’t grab her kids and go. She would kick the bastard out.

  As soon as Bob stepped inside her house, with his two VIP clients in tow, she put her plan in motion. Having two conservative pricks as witnesses was the best thing that could have happened to her, the perfect scenario for her performance.

  She could not care less for what Bob did with his life, or where he stuck his dick. She needed to convince her audience otherwise. She needed to make a case of the scorned wife, in case she went to court for her rights.

  “Honey, I’m home.” His singsong greeting rang in the silent house.

  For precaution, Moira had taken the kids to a neighbor’s house. Good old Mrs. Oliveira lived next door and was always at the ready to lend a hand whenever Moira needed someone to watch over Danielle and Felipe. She didn’t want them to overhear the ugly confrontation she was about to unleash.

  “How could you do this to me?” she yelled at Bob, brandishing the pink piece of paper under his nose. “Who’s this woman? Why did she write those things to you?”

  As part of her act, Moira had underdressed and left her hair piled up in a messy bun on top of her hair. She had pinched her cheeks to get them flushed and had been biting the inside of her mouth for a while before Bob came home. Her eyes were convincingly moist, but not over-the-top red.

  “Moira, darling. It’s a misunderstanding.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He was also playing for their audience. “You’re too distraught, not fit for this conversation right now. I’ll explain it later. Let me take Mr. Camargo and Mr. Almeida back to their hotel, treat them to dinner, and then we’ll talk.” He slowed down his speech as if talking to a little kid. “In the meantime, you calm down, all right? There’s no reason to worry. We’ll get it sorted out.”

  “We could call a taxi to go back. You’ve got a lot going on here,” one of his clients suggested.

  “Nonsense. She’s overreacting. You know how women get on certain days of the month, am I right?” He winked at the man, who didn’t display the same chauvinist attitude toward females.

  “Your wife might not agree with that statement. In any case, this is a matter you should discuss in private.”

  “That’s precisely my point. There’s nothing to discuss. Moira has got her wires crossed here.” She swatted his hands away when Bob tried to embrace her. “But, you and Mr. Almeida shouldn’t have to endure her ravings. That’s why I suggest we go back to the hotel.”

  Taking a couple of steps back, Moira eyeballed Bob and squared her shoulders. Plan was going exactly like she had hoped.

  Chin up, she delivered her killer blow. “In fact, there’s no misunderstanding this little note from your very young lover. She describes explicitly what you two have been doing behind my back. There’s nothing to sort out, Bob,” she deadpanned, as she handed him an overnight bag she had packed for him with his toiletries and a couple of shirts. “Let me make things easier for you. Take your clients to the hotel right now. You can order dinner and entertain them in your room there, because you’re not setting foot again in this house until I talk to a lawyer.”

  Bob hesitated and, for a second, Moira thought he’d fight for her.

  Bob caved in. “I don’t want to cause a scene. I’ll spend the night at the hotel, but I’ll come back tomorrow morning, and we’ll discuss this.”

  He didn’t come back, not the following morning, not for weeks or months.

  Moira eventually made peace with the fact Bob Mathias was never coming back. Wilma Fernandes vanished from sight about the same time. Moira wondered if they had run away together, or if they had run into trouble together.

  Bob’s advertising agency continued to prosper, his name stayed on the letterhead. If Silvio Fernandes hadn’t changed the name of their business, she figured he never learned about Bob’s affair with his daughter.

  Unless, that was all for show.

  Silvio Fernandes was a ruthless man with connections to people who lived by their own laws.

  Moira wouldn’t want to cross Silvio Fernandes.

  He was not a forgiving man.

  5

  Aidan - Summer – 2016

  Riding the rental bicycle south along Beira Mar Norte boardwalk, Aidan could not take his eyes off the green waters of the bay to his right. The city of Florianópolis had developed on a small island off the south of coast of Brazil, spilling off to the continent. One of the bridges that connected the two parts of the town bore a striking resemblance to the Golden Gate bridge in San Francisco. The inhabitants of Floripa, as the Brazilians referred to the city, had won Aidan over with their warmth, their willingness to communicate with him, even when they didn’t speak of a word of English, and their wonderful sense of humor. Qualities which made him feel right at home, being akin to Irish traits.

  Too bad his sabbatical year was almost over, and he had to start preparing to head back home.

  He didn’t want to go.

  As the bicycle lane bended gently to the right, the wooden pier came into view. Aidan sighed and slowed his speed to a crawl.

  He really didn’t want to go.

  His cell phone rang, and his mom’s picture popped up on the screen. “Hey. Your sixth sense is uncanny. I was just thinking of home.”

  “Never underestimate the ‘momdar’.”

  He burst out laughing at their private joke. Ever since he could remember, Joan would tell him that moms had an internal radar that beeped whenever their kids were bullshitting them. When he got old enough to go out with friends, she would say the ‘momdar’ also detected shenanigans.

  He replied. “Never did. How is the book going?”

  “Almost done. It’s taking me everything I’ve got to finish it, though. It’s got angst, and suspense, and romance. I’ve got a feeling about this one, that it will speak to people, you know?”

  Aidan got off the bike and plopped on a bench facing the shady waters that the late morning sun hadn’t lit up yet, as it still climbed the sky behind the tall buildings that lined the waterfront avenue.

  “I’m sure the book is going to be another bestseller.”

  “Thank you, but I meant something else. I’ve got a feeling this story will move people, touch people’s lives.”

  “That’s what every artist wants to do, Ma. Touch people’s lives, make a difference, leave an impression.”

  “Spoken like one who knows his trade. I’m proud of you.”

  “I sometimes wonder if I will ever make it, though. The two bands I was in never went anywhere.”

  “You were fifteen when you joined The Loosers. The name might have sounded a clever pun, but it turned out to be a twisted premonition.”

  He guffawed. “Oh, God, that is so right. We were a sad bunch.”

  “Also, not exactly rock and roll.”

  “Nope. Too depressing to be rock. Then, when I got to college I thought I had found the perfect match, only to end up in a dead end. They went from rock band to jazz ensemble. What the fuck? Who does that?”

  “I know it may still be too recent to joke about, but I’ll go ahead and say it. You might have missed out on something big with that group.”

  Aidan had a hunch he would regret asking. “Meaning?”

  “You might not be a big fan of jazz, but you’ve got the right attitude for it.”

  “Very funny. Hey, listen. I’ve got to return a bicycle I rented, but before we hang up, how’s dad?”

  “He’s doing great. Don’t worry about him. Focus on enjoying your last days there. You always sound so passion
ate about Brazil. I’m curious to visit now.”

  Aidan heard the concern in her voice, so he knew something was off. Also, she suddenly changed the topic. He didn’t want to pressure her, though. He didn’t press it.

  “Ma, I should get going.”

  “Talk later.”

  Aidan pocketed the phone and climbed on the bicycle again. As he approached the wooden pier, the crowd got denser, so he dragged his stare from the bay to the lane ahead of him, swerving around infants, dogs, and other bikes. The annual musical festival turned the usually busy boardwalk into a bustling congregation of people. During the day, people could go wall climbing, skate boarding, and bicycling. At night, the proper festival showcased local as well as international talents. He had heard good things about the festival’s headliner, a rapper from Floripa who was making waves in the Brazilian musical scene. He was curious to check the young man’s work later in the evening.

  After returning the bicycle, he glanced at his phone and realized he still had to wait another three to four hours for the concerts to start. He should try one of the other activities. He would not be able to stand on a skateboard even if his life depended on that, so that was out of the question. Wall climbing it was then.

  It should be fun.

  Finding the area wasn’t difficult with the fake wall structure towering over the pier. He approached a table and asked the volunteer sitting behind it, “Do you speak English? My Portuguese is still non-existent.”

  “Sure. How can I help you, sir?”

  At twenty-two, that title sounded inaccurate, but the volunteer didn’t look a day older than fifteen, so Aidan didn’t correct him. “Where do I sign for wall climbing?”

  “How many in your party?”

  “Party of one.”

  “Oh, that’s fine. The reason we ask is because the climbing is actually a competition between two contestants. When people come in groups, we ask them to sort out who’s going against whom. We don’t want to be breaking up any friendships,” he explained.

  “I hear you.” Aidan grinned. “Smart move.”

  The volunteer handed Aidan a form on a clipboard and a pen. “If you could go ahead and fill this one out for me, I’d appreciate it.”

  Aidan skimmed the English version of a standard waiver form stating he was aware of the dangers involved in the activity and would not seek monetary compensation from, or engage in any other legal action against the company, in case of an accident. He signed on the dotted line and rubbed his hands. “What’s next?”

  “Just go ahead and join that group.” The volunteer pointed to the almost two dozen people gathered around the climbing wall. “One of the instructors will guide you through the process.”

  Aidan did and found out the process consisted of waiting his turn until someone willing to climb didn’t have a partner with whom to share the adventure. Among the Brazilians, he overheard some people speaking in other languages. Two tall Americans drew his attention as the younger did his best to convince the older one to climb with him.

  “Afraid of heights, Big T? I never pegged you for the coward type.”

  “You’ve got some nerve there, Baby Face. I don’t feel like kicking your sorry ass in wall climbing today. That’s all.”

  “Maybe, you just don’t want to admit age is finally getting to you. After all, you’re almost forty.”

  “Not even thirty-nine.”

  “Same difference.”

  “You’re not that much younger, so cut the crap.”

  They laughed, and the younger one glanced about as if searching for a partner in crime. His stare zeroed in on Aidan, who smiled and nodded. The American dipped his head and waved for Aidan to join them.

  “Hey.” Aidan accepted the silent invitation. “Looking for a partner to climb the wall?”

  “Yep. You up for it?”

  “I’d love to. I’m Aidan Gallagher, by the way.”

  “Noah Cartwright,” the American replied, shaking Aidan’s outstretched hand. “This is my former friend Tristan Knight, the traitor. He agreed to doing this only to get cold feet when he checked the wall up close.”

  “Hey, what’s up?” Tristan also shook Aidan’s hand. “Don’t listen to the goofball. He’s got it backwards. I don’t feel like doing this. I’m glad you want to, though. Noah has been nagging me about climbing the fucking wall for the last hour or so.”

  “Let’s do this.” Aidan gestured for Noah to follow him as he searched for an instructor.

  A woman with pink hair, and body covered in colorful tattoos, showed them to the preparation area.

  Noah flashed a wide smile at the older woman and said something in Portuguese that went way over Aidan’s head. A streak of pink cut the air as she shook her head and replied, handing him the safety equipment. A crestfallen Noah drooped his shoulders and began to fuss with the straps.

  Aidan was halfway through adjusting his harness, but watched the exchange with curiosity and amusement, even though he got lost in the translation.

  “What the hell was that all about?”

  “I told her I’d rather climb without a harness, and she said it was not an option. These straps cling to all the wrong places, man. I hate them.”

  Laughing, Aidan slid the helmet on and looped its strap before replying. “Guess, you’d hate a cracked skull more.”

  “Easier for him to crack the pavement instead.” Tristan’s amused remark sounded right behind Aidan. “He thinks his head is harder than the ground.”

  “Not as hard as yours,” Noah retorted, then turned to Aidan. He leaned close to Aidan’s ear and cupped his mouth as if to tell a secret, but spoke loud enough for Tristan to hear him. “I’ve been trying to convince him to start a rock band for almost two decades. He just won’t listen.”

  That sent Aidan’s pulse racing and piqued his already keen interest in the two Americans. Their dynamic evidenced their long term good relationship, which Aidan considered essential for a music group to thrive. His previous two experiences died before they had a chance to start mostly due to internal rivalries and inflated egos. Noah and Tristan’s friendship constituted a positive sign the universe was sending him, if Aidan ever needed one. He would stick around those guys to learn more about their plans.

  “Sounds awesome. I want to hear all about it after I kick your ass in this competition, though.”

  “Ah, the naiveté of youth. I miss it.” Noah clamped a hand on Aidan’s shoulder. “You think you can beat old Uncle Noah here just because you barely left kindergarten, eh? I’ll show your sorry Irish arse who’s the boss of wall climbing around here.”

  “I bet you’ve been doing this way longer than me, but that doesn’t mean you’d do it better. Or faster.”

  Noah and Tristan boisterous laughter was contagious. Aidan laughed along, not sure why he did though.

  “What?” he inquired, when the Americans looked at him funny.

  Tristan set the record straight. “Noah’s never climbed as much as a fence.”

  “You guys ready?” the lady with the pink hair asked in English this time.

  Aidan nodded, and Noah seconded him. They followed the woman, and she deftly hooked their harnesses to the ropes dangling from the top of the twenty-three feet wall. With no more than eight feet in width, the climb could become cramped for the two men and their wide shoulders.

  Dragging his stare all the way to the top, Aidan assessed the difficulty and decided he had done much worse than that route. The inclination was not as steep as the wall in which he used to practice for the college competitions. The top was not as overhanging as most of the competition walls Aidan had won in the past.

  Glancing sideways, he spotted Noah’s knitted eyebrows as he also surveyed the challenge ahead of them. “Care to make this more interesting?”

  “Sure, but I don’t bet money,” Noah promptly explained.

  “Me either. You’ve got something way more valuable to me though.”

  “Which is?”

&nb
sp; “A rock band.”

  “I don’t have it yet, but I intend to. If I get my blockheaded childhood friend around to agreeing to start it, of course.”

  Aidan swept his gaze around and confirmed Tristan wasn’t within earshot.

  The pink-haired instructor raised an arm above her head. “On your marks.”

  They stepped ahead to the two yellow lines marked with tape on the wooden floor of the pier.

  Before she told them to get ready, Aidan turned his head to the right, and dropped his voice. “How about this? If I win, you let me join your band. If you win, I’ll help you convince Tristan to start a band.”

  The woman shouted, “Go!” And he didn’t wait for Noah’s reply before sprinting forward and upward.

  Years of training and competing in the college circuit gave Aidan an unfair advantage over his naïve American competitor, but he didn’t consider that cheating. He had plans for their future together, and he wouldn’t apologize for coming on strong to get their band where he envisioned it should be.

  At the top. Which Aidan reached before Noah got to climb the first third of the wall.

  Laughing his head off, he high-fived the monitor standing on a platform on the top of the wall. But, he didn’t join her there. Instead, he looped the rope under his butt and between his legs, then secured it inside the pulley above his head, locking it. He swayed on the impromptu rope swing, his feet dangling free, the ocean breeze cooling the sweat that made his shoulder-length dark hair cling to his neck. Luckily, the ponytail kept it away from his face, so he drank in the breathtaking view of the bay and the bridge in front, and the mountains behind.

  When Noah got close enough, Aidan stretched his hand and pulled him up, helping the monitor hoist the out-of-breath American onto the flat platform. He joined them without effort.

  As they unhooked the ropes and climbed in the open elevator to get down, Noah grinned like a little boy unwrapping a birthday present. “Impressive. Where did you learn to climb like that?”