Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
RONAN
My gun is drawn, and every nerve in my body is on high alert as I sweep through Mila’s apartment. Thankfully, it’s small, so there are very few places for anyone to hide, and from the looks of it, whoever was here is long gone.
If I didn’t know there was an intruder, it would look like any other twenty-something girl's apartment. Enough mess to indicate someone lives here, but not enough to suggest the place has been ransacked.
The door hasn’t been forced open, so either Mila forgot to lock it as she thought or whoever was here knew how to get in without making a sound.
Were they looking for something?
My first thought is Finn. Was he looking for Max’s laptop to erase the footage of him shooting him dead? It’s a possibility… But then again, no one knew about the hidden cameras except for Max, and now Mila.
There’s no logical explanation for why anyone would come after Mila, unless they just wanted to send me a message—one that I very much intend to reply to.
I tuck my gun back into the holster hidden beneath my jacket and make my way to the door.
Cormac and Brennan are back at Kieran’s place, and I promised I would call them with an update the moment I finished at the apartment. But before I can, my phone buzzes with an incoming call from Kieran.
Call it a gut feeling or the ability to always think the worst, but I know something is wrong before I even answer the call.
“Ronan, we’ve got a problem.”
My blood turns to ice as I immediately think of Ciara.
“How bad is it?”
“It’s bad. The safe house is compromised, and the owners are dead.”
I curse under my breath.
The fucking mole is one step ahead, again.
“It’s a slaughterhouse here. We need another location, now.”
"Get the girls back to the house now.”
“I thought the whole point of this was to get them away from the house?”
“Well, now I’m changing my mind! But I need eyes on them at all times, do you hear me?”
“I’ll call ahead to make sure Stephen has his guys ready.”
“Leave Stephen to me. But I want you to stay with the girls too, Kieran. I need someone with Ciara that I can trust without question.”
I wait for the fallout, where he tells me he’s too good for babysitting duty. But to my surprise, there’s none.
“It’s done.”
“What the hell happened anyway? Are the girls okay?”
“A little shaken, but they’re fine. It’s best if you see for yourself.”
I pinch the top of my nose with my fingers. “Fine. But have Cormac and Brennan meet me there.”
“Will do. I’ll call you when we’re back at the house.”
He ends the call, and I’m already out the door, sprinting toward my car. As I pull away from the curb, I dial Stephen’s number.
“Boss?”
“The safe house has been compromised, and the girls are heading back to the house.”
“Shit.”
“I need you to not let Ciara or Mila out of your sight. I don’t care that you’re all under the same roof; it’s not enough. Where they go, you go, understand?”
“Got it.”
“There will likely be eyes on the house, Stephen. But right now, it’s the only option we have. My wife’s life is in your hands.”
“I’ll protect her, Ronan.”
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel, fighting the urge to turn the car around and speed back to the house to take care of them myself.
"Make sure the outside team is doubled. I don’t want any blind spots.”
"Consider it done."
I end the call and grip the wheel so tightly it feels like my knuckles might crack.
The mole came after Mila. They were inside her damn apartment just to scare her, and now the safe house has been compromised? This isn't just about revenge anymore. This is a declaration of war.
By the time I pull up outside the safe house, Brennan and Cormac are already waiting, leaning against Cormac’s Mercedes. The second they see me, they straighten.
I barely nod at them before stalking toward the house, taking the front steps two at a time. I slip my gun out of its holster, Brennan and Cormac behind me, clicking the safeties off their own guns as I push open the front door.
“Fucking hell.” The smell of blood hits me instantly, and I choke on a breath.
Brennan whistles as we take in the scene before us. “Someone had fun.”
Kieran wasn’t exaggerating when he said the place had turned into a slaughterhouse.
My eyes land on the man lying dead in a pool of blood in the middle of the hallway before trailing upwards. The blood splatters continue up the walls as if someone took a paintbrush and started decorating.
I notice the woman at the top of the stairs, her head tilted at an angle. “Christ. Cormac, take a look at her.”
Cormac moves past me and heads up the stairs as Brennan and I move in on the man. Crouching down beside him, I notice that his throat has been almost entirely cut out.
Brennan shakes his head. “Was that really necessary?”
My eyes scan his torso. “I don’t think that’s what killed him.”
“Sure about that?”
I rip apart his shirt to expose his bloody torso and the very obvious bullet wounds in his chest. “Pretty sure. Cormac! Check the woman for bullet wounds!”
His voice comes from above. “I’ve got three in the chest!”
I straighten and stare around at the walls. “There wouldn’t be this much blood on the walls from bullet wounds.”
Brennan nods. “It looks like someone smeared it around on purpose.”
“I think that’s exactly what they did.”
“Why?”
“Because they could? And because it sends a bigger message.”
Cormac heads back down the stairs to join us, his hands already stained with blood. “Because two dead bodies isn’t enough of a message?”
“Finn’s been playing games all fucking day. First with breaking into Mila’s apartment, and now this?”
Cormac frowns. “You really think Finn could have done this?”
“Finn or not, whoever did this is taunting us. They want us to know they’re not afraid, which is very dangerous for us.”
"Have you heard from Lorcan?"
"I got his voicemail, again." I pull out my phone and try him anyway, but the call doesn’t connect.
“I wish we could have his input, even if we can’t tell him everything.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t stay here. The mole is moving fast and could easily be heading right for Ciara.” The words taste like poison in my mouth.
Even though Kieran and Stephen are with her, it doesn’t feel like enough.
My control over this situation is slipping further and further out of my grip with each second that passes, and I don’t want Ciara to get caught in the crossfire.
I close my hands into fists. “It’s our turn to make a play.”
Brennan glances down at the mangled body at our feet and grimaces. “What do you suggest?”
“Do you still have your contact on the force?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Get him on ballistics. I want to know if the killer’s gun pops up anywhere."
Brennan nods before ducking back outside, his phone already at his ear.
Cormac crouches by the stairwell, plucking a shell casing that fell behind the console table. "Clean rounds. They’re military grade."
“Why am I not surprised?”
"There are no signs of forced entry either. So, either they were let in, or they were already inside somehow."
I walk down the hallway and peer into the living room, noting the bottle of wine on the coffee table and the two half-empty glasses. “They thought they were safe.”
"Until someone made an example of them."
I ball my hand into a fist, slamming it against the doorframe. “I really need Lorcan to answer his fucking phone. He’s our best chance at finding Finn.”
“What about the other names on the list? Do we abandon them and throw all our resources into tracking Finn down?”
“No. I don’t want to narrow our focus. For all we know, the mole could be using Finn as his scapegoat, and I’m not willing to take any more chances. We’ve already lost three lives; I don’t plan on losing any more.”
“Good idea.”
“Look into the rest of the names on the list. I want to see if any of them have airtight alibis for the last twenty-four hours."
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and Cormac takes that as his cue to start digging.
I hope it’s Lorcan finally getting back to me, but when I catch the name flashing on the screen, a wave of relief washes over me.
“Ciara.”
“Hey. Kieran said to call and tell you that we’re back at the house.”
“That's…good.”
It’s not, but I don’t want to worry Ciara. She’s already been through a lot, and I don’t want her to panic when it’s not necessary. I want her to think I have this completely under control, even though I feel anything but.
“There are like twenty people just hanging around downstairs. It’s a lot.”
“Good. That’s what I want."
"Ronan…”
“Yes?”
“It was bad, wasn’t it?"
"Yeah. It was. But it’s over, and you’re safe now."
She exhales shakily, and my chest tightens.
The last time I saw her was when she showed me the security footage of me beating up Max. There’s so much I want to say to her, and yet I know there’s nothing I can say to make up for what I did.
But I have to at least try because at the pace the mole is moving, I can’t help but fear that I might not get the chance.
“Ciara, I’m s—”
“Don’t.”
“You don’t know what I’m going to say.”
“I do know what you’re going to say. And I’m asking you not to say it.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re making it feel like I’ll never see you again.”
I say nothing because that’s exactly what it feels like.
“So, I’m asking you not to say it just yet and to save it for when I next see you.”
I exhale slowly as I look at the glasses of wine on the table, trying not to picture Ciara and me meeting the same fate as the couple whose blood coats the walls around me.
“How are you and Mila? All things considered…”
She sighs. "We’re fine, just shaken up. Kieran’s trying to get us to eat something, but I’m not sure I trust his cooking."
I let out a shaky laugh. “Well, eat if you can, and also try to rest.”
“You say that like it’s easy.”
“Because if you’re asleep, I know you can’t go digging into things that I’d rather you stay out of. I know you better than you think, Ciara.”
“I want to help.”
“I know you do, and I appreciate that. But this situation is escalating, and I can’t afford to get distracted.”
“By what?”
“You.”
“Oh…”
“My focus is already divided enough as it is. Every second you’re not here with me, I’m thinking about you, worrying about you.”
“You don’t have to worry about me…”
“But I do. I’m your husband; it’s my job. So, for the sake of my sanity, I’d appreciate it if you’d do as you’re told for once.”
Ciara is quiet for a moment, but I don’t fill the silence. I’m content to listen to the sound of her breathing through the phone.
"Ronan?"
"Yes, Tine Bheag?”
"I know the timing is all wrong and I want you here to tell it to your face, but I need you to know that I love you."
I close my eyes as I let out a breath.
God, hearing those words feels like a break in the storm.
"I love you too, Ciara. So fucking much. And more than telling the words to your face, I want to show it to you. Every fucking day. So, wait for me, Tine Bheag. I’ll be home as soon as I can so you can tell it to me again and again.”
“Yeah?” Ciara’s voice is hesitant.
She exhales on the other end of the phone as if she was scared I wouldn’t say them back. But if anything, those three words don’t feel like enough. They barely scratch the surface of what I feel for Ciara.
“Yeah, sweetheart.”
But as much as I want to cling to the words, the dark clouds are drawing in closer, and I’m running out of time.
Looking down at the mutilated body at my feet, I know that I would take that pain a thousand times over for her. I would have my blood paint the walls before anyone ever laid a hand on my wife. Because a world without me in it would probably be better off, but a world without Ciara?
That’s not a world I want to live in.