Chapter Four
RONAN
Ciara’s soft breathing is music to my ears.
I didn’t think it was possible for sex with Ciara to keep getting better, but somehow it does. Maybe it’s the fact that I came so close to losing her that having the chance to feel her against me again makes my blood burn inside my veins.
I can’t get enough of her. Hell, I can’t even look at her without wanting to rip her clothes off and bend her over the nearest surface to bury my cock deep inside her.
But it’s not just her body, though her curves drive me insane. It’s the way she gives herself to me completely, like I’m the only thing grounding her in this world. And the way she gasps my name when she climaxes…
She is all I think about. Every second she’s not beside me, I’m wondering what she’s doing, who she’s with, whether she’s safe. She’s got her claws in deep, and I don’t know how I let it get this far. I haven’t been this affected by a woman ever, and that scares the shit out of me.
Because with Ciara McCarthy comes risk.
She doesn’t play it safe, and the last twenty-four hours proved that. For those she loves, she charges headfirst into chaos with nothing but her stubbornness and steel will for company, and this time, it almost got her killed.
My blood runs cold at the thought.
What if I hadn’t gotten to her in time?
She may have been the one holding the gun, but it wouldn’t have taken much for the asshole holding Mila hostage to disarm her.
I’d love to give Ciara the benefit of the doubt, but when it comes to her life, I’m not taking any chances. She was so close to death, and I don’t think she has any idea.
This entire situation should have been avoided, but she kept the truth about Max from me. Perhaps I made it hard for her to tell me the truth and shut her out because I didn’t want to hear something that challenged what I thought I knew, but dammit, she should have tried harder.
We’re supposed to be in this together.
A team.
An immovable force.
I look down at my sleeping wife and exhale a long breath.
Her heavy breathing soothes my nerves, but it’s not enough to dissipate my anger because, in truth, she’s not the one I’m truly angry with.
Someone is clearly trying to fuck with me and has been for a while. This whole situation makes me feel like I’m being led on a wild goose chase.
Whoever it is made it look like Callum McCarthy is the mastermind behind all of this to tear our new alliance to shreds from the inside, and it’s working. I’ve been so focused on Callum that they slipped through the cracks, and it almost cost Ciara her life.
It can’t be a coincidence I found proof that my father was involved in shady business with the McCarthys, and now he’s dead.
It makes me think this is all connected.
Whoever orchestrated this is behind my father’s assassination.
It’s clear they want to destroy what’s left of the McCarthy legacy, but mine too.
I stay beside Ciara until I’m sure she’s fast asleep. I need to head back to the warehouse to clean up the rest of this, but the thought of leaving her makes me sick to my stomach. I know it’s unreasonable, but I never want to have her out of my sight again.
I stroke my fingers up and down her bare back, watching as her skin pebbles beneath my touch.
Even when she’s asleep, her body still seems to react to me. If she wasn’t so exhausted, I’d roll her onto her back and bury myself between her thighs once more just to hear her moan my name as she comes. But she needs the rest, and I have work to do.
I wince at the dull throbbing in my temples as I drive back to the warehouse where Brennan is keeping Mila’s kidnapper hostage. I’ve been awake for over twenty-four hours, and my eyes feel dry and heavy, but sleep is not high on my priority list right now and likely won’t be for a while.
I don’t lift my foot off the gas until the industrial complex where Mila was taken comes into sight, and I slam down on the brakes, kicking up a cloud of dust behind me. Before today, I didn’t even know this place existed, which only adds to my unease.
Who the hell owns this place?
So far, I have no leads, but I’m hoping the guy inside will be the key to unlocking some answers.
Reaching into the glove compartment, I pull out my handgun and a spare magazine, as well as a knife, and stuff them into the waistband of my pants, though I have little intention of using any of my weapons.
I’m in the mood for a good old-fashioned fistfight to blow off some steam.
As I enter the warehouse through the side door, Brennan is waiting just outside the room where Mila was kept. His hands are stained with blood, and his dark hair is a little disheveled, as if he’s been running his fingers through it.
“Is he alive?”
He tucks his hands into his pockets. “He hasn’t said much. Even after some…encouragement.”
Why am I not surprised?
“I think it’s time to change that.” I push past Brennan.
The room reeks of sweat and piss, and the kidnapper is slumped in the very chair that Mila was tied to. His legs are completely limp, his pants soaked with blood, and his head lolls forward with one eye completely swollen shut.
If it weren’t for the slight movement in his shoulders indicating he’s breathing, I would think he was dead.
For a moment, I stare at him as I loosen the lid on my rage.
This fucker almost made Ciara a murderer, and that alone is enough to warrant a bullet between the eyes.
The adrenaline pumping through my body narrows my focus, and I pull back my leg before slamming my foot into the leg of the chair. The metal rattles, and it’s enough to jolt the guy back to consciousness.
He groans, though he’s barely stirring. His one good eye is still closed, and his breathing is becoming shallower by the second.
I’m running out of time.
I grind my teeth as I crouch in front of him and reach into my pocket for the knife.
I slice through the ropes binding his feet. “Wake up.”
“What are you doing?” Brennan asks from behind me.
“He’s too far gone to do me much damage.”
The guy groans again as I get to my feet and walk behind him to slice through the rope around his wrists.
“Go and keep a lookout. I don’t need an audience for this.”
My brother does as I ask, closing the door behind him on his way out.
I finish freeing the guy’s wrists, and the second the rope falls to the floor, his body slumps forward, sliding off the chair.
A breath leaves his lungs as he hits the concrete, but I don’t give him a chance to recover before bending down and sinking my fingers into his shirt.
He’s a big guy, around my height and weight, but I barely notice as I haul him to his feet.
The adrenaline in my veins is making me numb to everything except my rage.
I tighten my grip on his shirt and drag him across the floor, leaving a trail of blood in our wake, before slamming his body into the concrete wall, knocking the last of the air out of him.
His shattered kneecaps mean he can’t hold his weight, so I pin him against the wall.
“You’re going to talk, or I’ll keep you alive for as long as I can, just so you beg for death every second.”
His breath rattles in his lungs, and for a second, I think he’s going to pass out. But then he finally speaks. It’s barely above a whisper, and I have to lean in close to hear him.
“If I die…the others… will come…for you.”
I freeze.
“Others?” My voice is deadly calm, though my heartbeat thrums in my ears.
He doesn’t answer, so I pull him away from the wall before slamming him against it once again.
His head smacks against the concrete, and I curse when his one good eye rolls in the back of his head.
If I’m not careful, I’m going to accidentally kill this guy before he can give me any information.
“You just became useful to me, so I suggest you elaborate.”
He lifts his head just enough to look at me with his one good eye.
“Fuck you,” he spits, bloody drool dripping down his chin.
I huff a laugh. “Wrong answer.”
I squeeze his shoulder just enough to hurt, but not enough to worsen the bleeding.
He screams.
“Tell me who you work for. You’re dead either way. You can choose the easy way if you just answer my question.”
His breathing is now so shallow when he slumps in my arms, I’m sure he’ll be dead in a matter of minutes.
This is a waste of my time. I want to go home to my wife, but I wanted some closure first.
I stare at him for a moment, adrenaline still surging.
Sighing, I witness as his last breath leaves his body, and I turn back and walk out of the room.
Brennan is waiting in the hall outside, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the wall. He says nothing when I approach, only lifts a brow.
“Clean it up.”
“Did he talk?”
I shake my head and grind my teeth.
Brennan pushes off the wall. “I don’t recognize him.”
“Me neither, but he said there were others.”
“Doesn’t surprise me.”
“But whoever they are, they’re not going to show their faces now.”
He nods before jerking his thumb toward the exit. “What about Callum? Kieran is waiting for orders.”
I sigh, dragging a hand over my face. I had almost forgotten about Callum.
While he might have been up to something shady, it’s clear he had nothing to do with what happened with Max. He was just a convenient scapegoat, a pawn to distract us, and it worked.
“Tell Kieran to let him go. But tell him we’ll be in touch.”
Brennan doesn’t question it. He just nods and disappears into the room to take care of the mess I left for him.
I head back outside, needing to breathe in some fresh air.
My pulse is still thrumming in my ears, and my thoughts are racing, which isn’t good. I need to keep a clear head if I have any chance of finding out who is behind this.
Whoever it is, they’ve been manipulating all of us like puppets, and so far, I’ve let them.
But not anymore.
From now on, if anyone is going to be the puppet master, it’s going to be me.