Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
KIERAN
Andre doesn’t even bother with small talk when I step into his office less than an hour later, carrying the folder of evidence. He leans back in his chair, the glow from his desk lamp throwing sharp shadows across his face as he regards me with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity.
“Did we have an appointment?”
“Since when do I need one?” I toss the folder down on his desk.
“What’s this?” Andre picks up the folder and flips open the cover, his eyes quickly scanning the contents.
“A police interview transcript. I need you to verify the contents.”
Andre nods as he continues to read through the handful of papers inside. “How did you get this?”
“That’s not your concern.”
“It is if you want me to verify it’s real.”
I glare at Andre, but his attention is solely focused on the evidence in his hand, which only irritates me more.
“Riley Walsh.”
Andre lets out a low whistle that has me grinding my teeth.
“She used it as leverage as a way of getting my family to help her.”
His eyes scan the first page, and I watch as his brow furrows.
I took a quick look over the document once I was safely in the car and away from Riley, and it’s just what she said it was, a police interview transcript in which Sean O’Keefe confessed to murdering my father.
“And you never asked to see it until now?” Andre asks.
“Why does that matter?”
Andre lets out a humorless laugh before tossing the folder onto his cluttered desk. “Because it’s fake.”
“Fake? How can you tell just by looking at it?”
Andre flips open the folder and taps a finger against the top corner.
“This letterhead? The logo’s missing two key elements, and see the badge design? It’s the completely wrong size and font.”
“You’re sure?”
“Sure enough to bet my life on it.”
“That’s not exactly worth much.”
Andre huffs a laugh.
I snatch away the folder. “Clearly, someone wanted whoever had this to believe Sean O’Keefe murdered Seamus Sullivan.”
“Looks that way.” Andre settles back in his chair. “It’s a classic move. It’s just real enough to plant a seed, which means this could be used as a setup, or it could be bait.”
Bait.
The word sits like a lead weight in my stomach.
I tuck the document under my arm. “Thanks. That’s all I need to know.”
By the time I reach my car, I’m already dialing Riley’s number.
“Kieran?” The worry is clear in her voice as it comes through the speakers, but I don’t have time to comfort her.
“Where did you find the document?” I toss the useless evidence on the front seat before turning the car around and speeding back toward the penthouse.
There’s a pause, like she wasn’t expecting the question.
“I overheard my father talking about it before he died. I found it in a locked drawer in his study, and I…I took it. I thought it was the only way I would be able to secure your help.”
I grip the steering wheel tighter. “And you’re sure it was your father’s?”
“I’m sure. Why? Is something wrong?”
“It’s not real.”
Her silence stretches on, to the point where I wonder if the call disconnected. But then her soft voice filters through the speakers once again. “It’s…fake?”
“Yes. Clearly, someone went to a lot of trouble to make it look real.”
She shifts on the other end of the phone, her voice quieter now. “Because someone wanted my father to think it was true.”
“Exactly.”
“Or…my father knew I was listening and wanted me to think it was true.”
The car lurches as Riley’s words catch me off guard, and horns blare around me, but I barely notice.
I hadn’t even considered the possibility that Declan was the one behind the fake transcript.
He knew there was a chance he was going to die, and I know his hatred for my family ran deep enough that I bet he wanted to ensure we went down no matter what, even if he wasn’t around to see it.
“Pack a bag. I’m taking you to Ronan’s. It’s safer for you there until I can figure out what to do.”
“Kieran—”
“No arguments, Riley. Please.”
“Okay.”
By the time I pull into the parking garage, Riley is already waiting with her overnight bag over her shoulder. She’s clutching the straps so tightly her knuckles are white, and her face is drained of color.
I don’t waste time as I stop the car and pop the trunk.
Riley tosses the bag inside, and we’re back on the road in seconds.
Neither one of us speaks as I drive out of the city.
I should call Ronan to warn him we’re on our way, and I’m about to dial him when I notice the headlights behind us.
They’re not close enough to warrant my attention, but I’ve been followed enough times to know when someone is on my tail.
I change lanes just to be sure and glance in the rearview, silently cursing when I notice them doing the same.
My instincts start shouting before my brain has a chance to catch up.
“Is your seatbelt on?” My free hand finds the Glock tucked into my jacket.
Her head turns toward me. “Kieran—”
“Riley.”
“Y-yes. Yes, it’s on.”
I pull my gun free.
My eyes stay on the mirror as I watch the other car edge just close enough that I can make out the vague silhouette of two people inside. Then the gunshot cuts through the air, and my arm instinctively moves to cover Riley.
“Down!”
The first rounds punch into the rear panel of the car, and Riley screams.
Another burst follows.
The back windshield explodes inward, and glass rains over the interior.
“Fuck!” I twist in my seat, aiming a shot right through the back window.
Cars swerve left and right, and horns blare as I continue to fire shot after shot.
My pulse kicks into overdrive as I crank the wheel left, then right, forcing our attackers to adjust, but more bullets continue to land.
I slam my foot to the floor, and the car skids briefly before gripping again, the tires screaming against the asphalt.
The freeway is long and open. It’s too easy for them to keep a clean line of fire.
I need cover, or at least some obstacles so that I can force them into making a mistake.
I drop my window an inch, just enough to clear my muzzle, and fire two shots straight at their grill. It’s not enough to kill the engine, but it is enough to kill their aim for a few seconds as I jerk the wheel and make a hard right down a narrow turnoff that leads to an industrial district.
It’s not far from the warehouse where Finn is kept, so I know the roads well. The streets are tight and unpredictable, full of blind corners that I can use to my advantage.
As expected, the other car barrels after us, so I drop another gear as I speed up, leading them deeper into the industrial district.
“Hold on.” I slam on the brakes as we hit a point between two warehouses, causing the tires to shriek.
The tailing car overshoots, and before they can adjust, I twist in my seat and lean across the console and fire three more rounds toward their driver’s side windshield.
The sound inside the car is deafening, and my ears ring as I land a shot that shatters the glass and another that sends the car spinning out of control.
Their return fire ceases, and I take that as my cue to get the hell out of here.
I slam my car into gear and speed back the way we came, leaving a cloud of dust in our wake.
Behind us, their engine noise fades into the distance until there’s nothing but the sound of the wind howling through the busted rear window.
I don’t relax even when we’re safely back on the highway, heading toward Ronan’s.
My eyes keep flicking to the rear mirror, scanning for any sign that whoever was following us wasn’t alone.
Riley slowly pushes herself up into her seat and brushes her hands over her thighs. “That was close.”
“Too close. Are you hurt?”
“I-I’m fine. Who the hell was that?”
“No idea, but I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.”
I can feel Riley’s eyes on me as I drive, as if she’s trying to gauge whether or not I’m shaken.
On the inside, my chest is hammering, and every nerve feels like it’s on fire, but she doesn’t need to know that. Right now, she just needs me to be in control.
When Ronan’s driveway finally comes into view, my shoulders loosen just enough to let me breathe properly.
After parking up, I get out first and scan the perimeter before walking around the car to open Riley’s door.
She’s barely out of the car before the front door opens, and Ronan comes storming toward us, his expression one of pure undiluted rage.
“What the fuck happened?”
Before I can even answer, he turns to Riley.
“Are you hurt?”
She shakes her head, but that does little to calm my brother.
“You better not have been fucking followed here, Kieran. Not when my pregnant wife is asleep inside.”
Riley flinches at my side, and I reach out to grip her hand, squeezing it once in silent comfort as I shoot Ronan a look.
“We need to talk.”
“No shit.”
“Can we at least go inside?” I flick my eyes to Riley, and Ronan’s jaw ticks, but he dips his chin before turning his back on me and stalking back inside the house.
I keep hold of Riley’s hand as we follow Ronan, not wanting to break the contact.
Her skin feels cold to the touch, and she looks seconds away from bursting into tears or vomiting, or both.
Ronan turns to head to the hall. “We should talk in my office—”
The sound of footsteps has us looking up to a very pregnant Ciara.
“You should be sleeping,” Ronan scolds as Ciara approaches, looking just as angry as Ronan.
“Well, I’m not. Now, what is going on? Why does Riley look like she’s seen a ghost?”
Ronan narrows his eyes at me. “Kieran was just about to tell me.”
“Well, I want to know too.”
His eyes soften, just barely, as he turns back to her. “And I want you to go back to bed.”
“Don’t argue with me right now, Sullivan. You won’t win.”
Ronan lets out a breath before reluctantly climbing the stairs and placing a supportive arm around Ciara’s waist.
I wait patiently beside Riley until Ciara reaches the foyer, and then I’m being forced aside as the two girls embrace.
“Are you okay?” Ciara clutches Riley as tightly as her huge bump will allow.
“I’m fine.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
Riley glances anxiously over her shoulder at me before looking at Ronan. “We should talk.”
Ronan leads us all into the lounge, where he settles Ciara on the couch with a plethora of pillows behind her before perching on the arm.
“Sit by me, Riley.” She taps the space beside her.
Ronan places a protective hand on Ciara’s shoulder. “What’s all this about, Kieran?”
I take a seat in the chair closest to Riley. “The evidence Riley found in Declan’s office was fake.”
Ronan curses, and I catch Riley flinching out of the corner of my eye.
I shoot Ronan a warning look.
“I’m so sorry, I had no idea—”
“Don’t be sorry,” Ciara assures her. “How were you to know?”
“My first thought was that the evidence was planted for Declan to find,” I say, and Ronan nods.
“That makes the most sense.” His expression darkens.
“Unless my father was the one to plant it for me to find,” Riley adds, and Ronan’s mouth snaps shut.
The room falls quiet as her words linger in the air, and my chest tightens at the look of guilt on Riley’s face.
“Even if that’s the case, this isn’t your fault, dove.”
“But—”
“But nothing.”
Riley’s eyes shimmer with tears, and I can see how hard she’s trying to hold them back.
“If anyone is to blame here, it’s your father, and Ronan already made sure he paid the price for what he’s done.”
Ronan nods before turning to me. “The girls need to go somewhere safer. Whoever is behind this is ahead of us.”
“I agree.”
Ciara lifts one hand as she shakes her head. “Hold up. I’m not going anywhere.”
Ronan closes his eyes for a moment, likely trying to keep a hold on his temper.
“I love you, Tine Bhaeg, I really do. But right now, I need you to stop arguing with me just this once. Can you do that?”
“You’re an ass, Ronan Sullivan.”
“I know.” He presses a kiss to her temple, then turns back to me. “I’ll take the girls to a safehouse, and you go and get the truth from Finn. Take my car.”
He reaches into his pocket and tosses me the keys.
I snatch them out of the air and meet Ronan’s eyes as I pocket them, a silent agreement passing between us.
This isn’t even close to being over, but we’re not going to stop until it is.
I get to my feet. “Please, keep Riley locked down tight, Ronan. I’m not losing her over this.”
“You won’t. Now go.”