Chapter 23 Ronan
Chapter Twenty-Three
RONAN
I rub a hand over my face and exhale through my nose as I lean back in my chair. I still feel the lingering heat from Ciara’s touch all over my body. She doesn’t even need to touch my skin to make me absolutely feral with need.
Should I have finished our conversation instead of fucking her? Probably. But I don’t regret taking her right here on my desk, her sweet scent lingering in the air even after she’s gone.
It’s like she’s marking her territory, making sure I can never get any work done because all I can think about as I sit in my chair is her spread out before me like my own personal feast.
I wish I had a chance to taste her, but she was too desperate for my cock, and who am I to deny my wife?
“Christ.” I grow hard once more.
I want nothing more than to go after Ciara and continue my apology by getting on my knees for her, but I made her a promise, and this is one I don’t intend to break.
I need to call Stephen.
Ciara was right about everything. I can’t keep blowing up every time another man is in the same room as her. It’s not fair, and it’s not sustainable. She deserves better than a paranoid wreck who throws punches first and thinks second.
So, before I can talk myself out of it, I reach for my phone, pull up Stephen’s contact info, and hit the call button.
It rings twice before he picks up.
“Hello?”
I wince at the bitterness lacing his tone. “Hey.” I awkwardly rub my jaw. “It’s me.”
There’s a brief pause, and I shuffle uncomfortably in my seat.
“I know.”
Fuck, why is this so awkward?
I’ve known Stephen for nearly a decade and consider him an honorary Sullivan brother. We’ve been through some shit together, so a quick phone call should be easy. But then again, I’ve never punched him or fired him, so this is all new territory for us.
“Look, I’m calling because I owe you an apology.”
There’s another pause, and this one is longer. The asshole is trying to make me sweat, and it’s working.
“No shit.”
I close my eyes as my anger flares, but I force it down. If I don’t go to Ciara with news that Stephen is coming back, then I might as well cut off my balls and hand them to her on a silver platter.
Taking a deep breath, I swallow the last of my pride and offer Stephen an apology that I hope will be enough to get him to take his job back.
“I was way out of line. I shouldn’t have put my hands on you, and I shouldn’t have fired you. That was an overreaction on my part, and I’m sorry.”
Stephen lets out a sigh. “Ronan, I get that you’re protective of Ciara. She’s your wife, after all, but I need you to admit that I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
It’s rare for anyone to talk back to me other than my brothers, but I can’t deny that I deserve it.
“I know that now, and I trust you. I wouldn’t have put Ciara’s safety in your hands if I didn’t.”
He doesn’t respond right away, and I fear that there might be nothing I can say to make this better.
“Come back,” I say before he can fill the silence. “You’re good at your job, and I need someone I can trust. Besides, Ciara clearly feels safer with you around.”
There’s another beat of silence, but this time, I have nothing left to fill it with.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. What happens the next time you get jealous and decide I’m too close to her again? Are you going to put a bullet in my chest?”
“Fuck, no.”
“You sure? Because the look on your face the other night says otherwise.”
Fuck, was I really that bad?
“I’m working on it. I’m not proud of how I acted, but I’m trying to do better. Besides, if you come back, I’ll make sure you get a raise too. A big one at that.”
That earns me a laugh. “Sure that’s not just the guilt talking?”
“Maybe. But it doesn’t make the money any less real.”
Stephen exhales.
“All right, I’ll come back. But if you throw another punch at me again, my wife will be pressing charges.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “That’s fair. See you later today.”
After I end the call, I toss the phone onto the desk and sit back, dragging both hands through my hair.
I might have cleaned up one disaster, but I feel little relief because I sense the next one brewing.
Sure enough, my phone starts buzzing again barely a minute after I hang up on Stephen, but this time it’s a call from Angus O’Malley.
I frown. I haven’t heard anything from Angus since our meeting in Vegas, so I can’t help but wonder the meaning behind this call.
I put the call on speaker. “Angus, what can I do for you?”
“Just checkin’ in. Wanted to see if ye’re still breathing.”
I huff a laugh. “Barely. Shit is hitting the fan left, right, and center.”
“I hope for yer sake it’s metaphorical shit.”
“At this point, I wish it wasn’t. It would be a hell of a lot easier to clean up than what I’m having to deal with.”
“Ye better start talkin’, Sullivan.”
So, I do.
I lay it all out for Angus, filling him in not just on Declan’s betrayal and the ambush at the wharf, but the fact that there’s a possibility of a mole among my own ranks.
When I finish, Angus whistles low under his breath. “Jesus. Ye’ve got yer hands full.”
“No kidding.”
“Ye really think someone on the inside tipped him off?”
“I don’t just think, I know. Walsh has been a step ahead too many times, and after what happened at the docks with my shipment… I dread to think what he’s going to learn next.”
“Fuck.”
“Exactly.”
There’s a long silence on the other end of the line.
“I need someone outside of my circle on this. Someone who can dig without raising suspicion. My brothers and I can’t investigate my own people without them noticing, and I can’t afford for any more whispers to circulate.”
“Any more?”
“Let’s just say a lot of people are watching me right now.”
“Well, that was always going to happen. Ye have very big shoes to fill, Ronan.”
“I’m aware. So, what do you think?”
“About what?”
“Doing some digging for me.”
“Ye want me to look into yer mole?”
“Can you?”
“Are you asking for a favor or a job?”
“Both.”
Angus grunts. “I’ll see what I can dig up.”
“I appreciate this, Angus. The mole has proven they have access to sensitive information, which means they interact closely with me and my brothers. I need to find a link between them and Walsh as soon as possible before they ruin my reputation.”
The thought that I could be interacting with the mole daily enrages me, but hopefully, with Angus's help, I’ll finally get some answers.
“All right. Give me a day or two.”
“Sooner if possible.”
“I’ll call the moment I find anything.”
I end the call and sit in silence, letting the weight of everything settle on my chest.
It’s been a few days since we ambushed Declan at the docks, and he’s been silent ever since, but I know better than to think we scared him off.
Our attack is only going to anger him, but I’m hoping that anger will make him sloppy, leaving him wide open for me to take him down once and for all.
Before my phone has a chance to interrupt me again, I get to my feet and head into the kitchen, where I find Ciara standing at the island, buttering some toast. Her hair is damp around her shoulders from her shower, and she’s wearing a lavender tank top and matching leggings that show off her mouth-watering curves.
I stroll over to her. “You could have warned me you were taking a shower.”
She looks up at me, and there is a flicker of worry in her eyes as she searches my face.
It’s gone just as quickly as it appeared, but I clocked it, and to be honest, I don’t blame her for being wary. Punching Stephen didn’t portray me as the protective husband. If anything, it made me look hot-headed and unpredictable, which is not what Ciara deserves.
She deserves a husband who gives her the space to let her guard down, and I hope that by making amends with Stephen, I can show her I’m taking the steps in the right direction to give her that space.
“I called Stephen.” I lean against the island and fold my arms over my chest.
She digs her knife into the butter and spreads more on her toast. “Yeah?”
“I apologized and offered him his job back, which he agreed to only after I offered him a massive raise.”
Ciara sets down the knife and finally looks up at me as a huge smile spreads across her face, and her green eyes light up.
“Just warning you now that we might lose the house from how much he’s going to cost me.”
Ciara laughs as she walks around the island and wraps her arms around my waist as she rests her cheek against my chest. “That must have been hard for you. I’m proud of you for doing it.”
I rest my chin against the top of her head and breathe in the fruity scent of her shampoo.
“I’m going to try harder. I know I’ve been…difficult.”
She chuckles softly. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“I’m serious. I’m not proud of the way I reacted.”
Ciara pulls back to look up at me, but she keeps her arms locked around my waist, pressing her body flush against mine.
“I know you’re not, but you’ve taken steps to do better, and that’s what counts. I want you to know that I appreciate the effort.” She offers me a smile, and the sight of it breaks me a little.
She shouldn’t look so happy just because I managed to act like a halfway decent human being for once, and that’s when it hits me.
I’m setting myself up to fail.
I can promise Ciara I can change all I want, but the second the fear creeps in when she offers someone else an innocent smile or laughs at a joke that isn’t mine, I lose my goddamn mind. It’s like some animalistic instinct takes over, and I forget everything except the need to protect what’s mine.
I’m not sure that’s something I can fight, and even if I could, I’m not sure I want to.
Ciara is mine, and I want the whole goddamn world to know it.
She reaches up to cup my face, offering me a smile and brushing her thumb along the slight stubble coating my jaw. “We’re going to be okay.”
I nod even though I don’t fully believe it.
The truth is, between the mole, the war with Declan, and my own mess of a brain, I don’t know if I’m going to be okay, but for Ciara, I’ll keep trying.