Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
CIARA
Standing at the window in the living room, I look outside at the line of black SUVs that crowd the circular driveway. The estate is lit up by spotlights as men with earpieces pace the perimeter.
Stephen appears in the doorway to give Kieran yet another update. “My guys have just finished another full sweep of the grounds. And I’ve doubled the guards.”
Kieran paces back and forth in front of the fireplace. “Triple it. I want someone stationed outside every damn room.”
I look between them. “Is all this really necessary?”
“Yes, it is. Ronan would kill me if anything happened to either of you. Not that he would have the chance because I would never forgive myself either.”
I nod at Kieran as Stephen continues with his update, which I only half listen to.
Mila clutches a hand over her mouth. “I think I’m going to throw up.”
“Let’s get you to a bathroom,” I put a hand around her waist and guide her toward the door.
When Stephen falls into step behind us, I turn around.
“Seriously?”
He shrugs. “Ronan’s orders.”
“I think she can throw up alone.”
“I know she can.”
“It’s okay, Ciara,” Mila assures me. “You don’t need to see this.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“Ciara,” she says more firmly, and I let out a sigh.
“Fine.”
“I’ll wait outside the door.” Stephen follows Mila out of the room.
When they are gone, I walk toward the kitchen.
Immediately, Kieran’s heavy footsteps follow behind me, and I want to groan.
“I’m guessing it’s going to be like this for a while.” I lean against the island and reach for the box of crackers that I left out earlier.
“At least until Ronan finds the son of a bitch responsible for slaughtering those innocent people.”
I glance behind me at the two guards who are stationed in the foyer with machine guns strapped to their backs as if they’re standing at the front line.
I nibble on the edge of a cracker, more out of need for the baby than out of appetite, which is nowhere to be found. “I don’t even feel safe in my own house anymore.”
“I’m sorry about that, but we are doing everything we can to keep you stay alive.”
“I know. I’m sorry, it’s just so frustrating.”
Kieran nods as he walks past me toward the fridge to get a bottle of water and sets it down in front of me. “If you’re hungry, you should eat something with more nutritional value than crackers.”
“I feel like I’m going to throw up, and I was hoping these would help. Unfortunately, they aren’t.” The slightly salty smell only makes my stomach churn, so I push the box away.
“That’s to be expected. I also know that people tend not to eat when they’re put in high-stress situations, but it doesn’t mean they don’t need the nutrition anyway, so what can I make you?”
“I’m fine for now. Maybe later.”
Kieran narrows his eyes at me as he folds his huge arms over his chest.
I want to lighten the mood, even if just to take his mind off giving me food. “You know, you’re pretty good at the whole protective older brother vibe.”
“Don’t mistake duty for warmth.”
“You say that like you’re not secretly a softie.”
Kieran shoots me a look that is sharp enough to slice steel, but there is something shining just beneath the surface.
I hold my hands up in mock surrender. “Jeez, you could just take the compliment.”
“Or you could come up with better ones? Nothing good has ever come from being soft, if you know what I mean.”
There’s a wicked gleam in his eye, and despite myself, I smile.
He shakes his head. “You should rest; you look like hell.”
“Gee, thanks.” I push off the counter and head toward the door.
Kieran falls into step beside me. “You know exactly what I mean, besides, I’d take the chance now. It’s not like you’ve got anywhere else to be.”
“I’m well aware.”
I find Mila curled up on the couch in the living room, looking pale.
Stephen kneels before the fireplace, building up a stack of logs and kindling to start a fire. Perhaps he’s hoping that it will make the place feel more like a home rather than a prison.
Kieran turns to walk down the hall. “If you need anything, I’ll be in Ronan’s office.”
“He’s not as scary as he looks,” Mila says as I curl up beside her.
I glance toward the hallway. “No, he isn’t. But he wears the mask proudly.”
A few hours go by with still no word from Ronan.
The sky has long since gone dark, and the fire is slowly turning to embers in the hearth, but I’m still wide awake, and so is Mila. We pass the time by playing a few games of poker, but it’s impossible to be distracted from the impending danger hanging over all of us like a dark cloud.
Mila’s cheeks are flushed, her fingers tapping out an absent rhythm on the edge of the couch as she looks at her cards. “Okay, what have you got?”
I lay down my cards, and Mila curses at my third winning hand in a row.
Mila narrows her eyes. "You’re hustling me."
"It's because you have a terrible poker face. You’ve always been easy to beat, ever since freshman year.”
“At least we’re not playing for real money; otherwise, I might have to ask for a loan.”
I force a laugh, but it does little to ease the tension in the room.
Stephen is even quieter than usual as he stands just inside the doorway to the lounge, his arms folded and his eyes sharp as he surveys the room.
I’ve tried to catch his eye a few times to offer him a smile, but he’s avoiding my gaze. I try not to take it personally, considering the fact that he needs to keep his focus.
Kieran, on the other hand, radiates nothing but restless energy, pacing back and forth in front of the window like a caged predator.
Every few steps, he stops to glance over at Mila and me before returning his gaze to the window, squinting into the darkness as his hand hovers over the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans.
It’s unnerving having your own home feel like a cage and every shadow feel like a threat.
Mila gathers the cards. “Do you want another game?”
I know she needs the distraction just as much as I do, so I nod. I’m well aware that the stress I’m feeling right now isn’t good for the baby, so I try my best to keep my breathing steady, but my mind isn’t so easily fooled.
Until Ronan walks through the front door, I won’t be able to relax.
I glance at Kieran, noting his clenched jaw. Though he doesn’t say a word, I can see the storm simmering beneath his calm exterior. It’s the same storm I see in Ronan, silent but deadly.
Mila catches my eye and offers me a shaky smile that I force myself to return, though what I really want to do is stand on the coffee table and scream at the top of my lungs for everyone to get the hell out of my house.
The security is suffocating.
When they are on their regular posts, they are easy to ignore, since I hardly come across them. But now?
Four guards stand posted in the foyer with another two outside the door to the lounge, the soft hum of their radios constantly crackling in the background.
Mila shuffles the cards a little too long. “Do you think Ronan will figure it out? Who’s behind all this, I mean?”
I swallow hard.
“He has to, for all our sakes.” But even as I say it, the doubt claws at me.
Ronan’s pride keeps him from showing weakness, but I could hear the desperation in his voice when I called him earlier.
The attack at the safe house has raised the stakes, and it’s only a matter of time before the mole takes out someone closer to Ronan.
Someone like me.
Kieran turns to us. “He will take care of it.”
I glance over at him. “I know.”
He offers me a curt nod before returning to his spot in front of the window.
I take the cards from Mila and start handling them because I need something to take my mind off my racing heart. But my palms are sweaty, and half of the cards end up all over the floor.
“Crap.” I reach down to pick them up, and a searing pain in my stomach has me crying out.
“Ciara?” Mila reaches for me.
Both Kieran and Stephen are at my side in an instant.
Kieran frowns. “What is it?”
“It’s…nothing.” I gasp as I force a smile, though I know he can see the beads of sweat that coat my forehead.
I try to exhale slowly, breathing through the pain, but another sharp cramp hits, and I double over, clutching my stomach.
Stephen holds me sitting up. “We need to take you to the hospital.”
“No, I-I’m fin—”
My stomach twists again, stealing the breath from my lungs.
Kieran shakes his head. “No one is leaving this house. Ronan’s orders.”
Stephen growls. “Fuck the orders, she needs a doctor.”
I flinch at the murderous look Kieran gives Stephen.
“I’m fine,” I choke, though the pain in my stomach is so bad that I can barely get the words out.
“You’re not fine, Ciara.”
Kieran folds his arms over his chest. “What the hell is going on?”
I glance up at him and see panic on his face as he looks down at me. I want to tell him the truth, but the words stick in my throat, choking me as I think of my baby.
Something’s wrong.
Something’s wrong, and Ronan isn’t here.
“Oh, God,” I sob as I clutch my stomach.
Kieran crouches down in front of me so his eyes are level with mine. “Ciara, talk to me. Are you sick? Is this something we need to call Ronan about?”
I shake my head, swallowing hard against the lump rising in my throat. “No…please, don’t call him.”
I glance over at Stephen, who looks deeply concerned.
Kieran catches the look, and his expression hardens. “Ciara, you’re going to tell me what the hell is going on right now.”
I lower my gaze. “I’m pregnant.” My eyes come up to meet his. “I haven’t told Ronan yet, and…I’m scared I might be losing the bab—”
My voice breaks, and I clamp a hand over my mouth to muffle my sobs.
Mila’s arm is around my shoulders in an instant as I break down, my body trembling with the force of my tears.
For a moment, Kieran says nothing, his jaw clenched so tight I’m surprised he hasn’t cracked a tooth.
When he finally talks, his voice is strained as he looks at me. “You didn’t tell him?”
“No.”
He curses as he runs a hand through his hair. “Ciara, this isn’t just your secret to keep. Ronan needs to know.”
“I know.” Tears start to roll down my cheeks. “But not now. Not with everything that’s going on. He already has enough on his plate, and he needs to focus. Please, Kieran… I just need time.”
He exhales sharply. “You’re putting me in a very tough position here, Ciara.”
“I don’t want to keep secrets from him. But if Ronan finds out this way… If I lose the baby and he’s blindsided, it’ll break him. I’m begging you, Kieran. I need you to help me.”
He stares at me for a long moment until his expression softens just enough for me to know that I’ve bought myself some more time.
“You’ve got twenty-four hours. If you don’t tell him by then, I’m doing it for you.”
His words hang in the air, heavy and final, but I nod.
“Thank you.”
He lets out a rough breath as he gets to his feet before jerking his chin at Stephen. “Take her to the hospital, now. And you better hope that everything is okay because I do not want to be the one to tell Ronan that his wife miscarried his kid on my watch.”