Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
KIERAN
I take the long way back to the warehouse, weaving through side streets and turning back on myself twice as my eyes flick to the rearview mirror every couple of seconds.
At this point, I’m not sure if it’s from paranoia or instinct, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. Both have kept me alive for this long.
Every pair of headlights feels like a threat, making me tighten my grip on the steering wheel as the echoes of Riley’s screams fill my head.
Did I make the right call bringing her to Ronan and having him take her to the safehouse? What if they get intercepted on the way?
I almost turn the car around and head back to Ronan’s estate because the thought of losing Riley when I’ve barely even had the chance to know her is too much to bear.
She has no idea how much she gets under my skin, how much she’s tangled herself into places in me I didn’t even know were hollow until she filled them.
I shake my head. “Get your shit together, Sullivan.”
If I let myself unravel now, I’m useless.
By the time I pull up outside the warehouse, I’ve shoved Riley to the edges of my mind. Or at least, I’ve tried.
It’s eerily quiet as I make my way down the long corridor that leads to Finn’s cell, my footsteps echoing around me.
When I turn the corner and spot Doyle hovering outside the cell, looking like a man who’s trying not to shit his pants, I know something is very wrong.
I don’t even bother asking him what’s happened because I have a feeling I already know.
I storm past him and throw open the cell door.
The metallic stench of blood hits me before my eyes land on Finn, who is slumped in his chair. His head hangs forward at an unnatural angle as blood drips from the deep cut along his neck onto the floor.
Doyle appears at my side. “I swear, Kieran. I was only gone for five minutes. I had to take a piss. It was just five minutes.”
My fists clench at my sides as I stare at Finn. “And in those five minutes, someone got in here, killed him, and walked out without you realizing? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
My voice is like ice as I turn to stare Doyle down.
The man is trembling so hard I’m surprised he’s still upright.
“There was no sign of anyone around. Nothing. I swear. I came back and—” He gestures helplessly at Finn’s body. “He was like that.”
“He was our fucking golden ticket, Doyle!” I grab him by the collar and slam him against the concrete wall, knocking the air out of his lungs. “I don’t care if you have to piss your fucking pants; you were paid to not leave your post.”
“I-I thought it was secure.”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just slit your throat too. Because I’ll do it, Doyle, I swear to God.”
Beads of sweat start to coat his upper lip as his eyes flick to Finn. “P-please.”
“You must have heard something. A car at least? No one can access this industrial estate on foot.”
“There was nothing! I-I swear.”
“What about the door? You must have heard them break it down.”
Doyle furiously shakes his head. “T-they didn’t.”
“They must have, unless, of course, you gave them the key.”
Doyle’s eyes widen, and I have no doubt he would currently be standing in a pile of piss if it weren’t for the fact he had already emptied his bladder.
“The door was unlocked.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“I swear, Kieran! See for yourself.”
My fists tighten in his shirt, and for a split second, I consider slamming Doyle’s head against the concrete.
But that won’t solve the problem right in front of me.
“I hope to God you’re wrong.” I let go of Doyle.
He slumps against the wall as I stalk over to the door.
I run my hands over the lock and check the front and back for any sign of forced entry. But there is none. It’s completely intact, which means whoever killed Finn did, in fact, have a key.
“Fuck!” I kick the metal door.
The impact echoes around the cell, and a sharp pain shoots through my foot, but I barely notice.
Fury boils inside me, hot and unrelenting.
I walk over to Finn’s body and crouch down, noting the fact that his wrists and ankles are still bound.
“The locks weren’t forced, which means whoever did this had access to this cell.”
“You think it was an inside job?” Doyle asks.
“Is that a confession?”
“N-no, I swear, I didn’t do this! Kieran, you have to believe me—”
“Enough! I don’t have time to listen to your blubbering, Doyle.”
Doyle immediately shuts up, and I pull out my phone and call Ronan.
“Have you got the information?” Ronan asks.
“Finn’s dead.”
His silence stretches on for a beat too long, to the point where I’m not sure if he heard me or not.
“What?” he eventually asks.
I grit my teeth as I stare down at Finn’s limp and bloodied body.
“Slit across the throat. Doyle said he stepped out for five minutes to piss and came back to find him dead. The locks weren’t forced, so whoever it was must have had a key. Unless, of course, Doyle here is lying…”
I shoot Doyle a look over my shoulder and fight the urge to roll my eyes at how pathetic he looks.
Why the fuck we keep someone so spineless on our payroll is beyond me, but maybe after today, that will change.
“Doyle doesn’t have it in him. Which means someone else on the inside must have done it.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“Fuck, it’s Stephen all over again.”
“How the hell does this keep happening? We’re going to be a complete laughingstock if we don’t get a handle on this.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Ronan retorts. “Whoever it was must have known about the contract you drew up.”
“You think?”
“Finn has been in our possession for months, but the second he’s about to hand over information, he gets his throat cut? Yeah, that’s not just a coincidence. Whoever it was wanted to make damn sure that Finn wouldn’t talk.”
“Fuck.”
“Who else knows about the contract other than us, Brennan, and Cormac?”
“Jackson and Riley.”
“Well, we can rule the pair of them out.”
“What about Lorcan?”
“He doesn’t know. Besides, he wouldn’t kill his own stepson.”
Ronan exhales sharply down the line, and I glance back at Finn.
I was counting on the information he had, and now that it’s gone, I’m not sure what our next move is.
“Are you sure that the safehouse is still secure?”
“As of a few minutes ago, I’m not sure of anything anymore,” Ronan mutters.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Has something happened to Riley? I swear to God, Ronan—”
“Nothing has happened to Riley. But just before you called, I got word that a document was leaked, and the information on it is spreading fast.”
“What kind of information?”
“A list of every one of our safehouses, along with details of each occupier. People are already pulling away. Allies won’t touch us. We’re on our own.”
My blood turns cold. “You’re telling me that every safehouse is blown, but that Riley is completely safe? You’re full of shit!”
“I’m getting the girls out now. Do you really think I would leave them there when their current location is likely in the hands of Sean O’Keefe right about now?”
This has just gone from bad to worse.
“No. If Riley is in danger, I’m going myself. I’ll bring her back.”
“I’m closer. Think, Kieran. You can’t afford to be reckless, not when whoever killed Finn could be waiting nearby to ambush you.”
I’m barely listening to a word he’s saying as I storm back out of the cell and head through the warehouse to where my car is waiting.
“She’s mine, Ronan! I won’t sit here while she’s exposed—”
“You think I don’t get that? You think I don’t care?” The strain in his voice is clear as day. “Ciara’s out there too. My wife. My kids. I’m telling you the truth. You can’t reach them faster than I can. Let me handle it.”
I rake a hand through my hair, breathing hard.
Everything in me is wired to fight, to get behind the wheel and put distance between myself and Finn’s corpse until Riley’s safe at my side. The thought of her without me, of someone else touching what’s mine, makes me see red.
“Call me the second you’ve got her,” I say through clenched teeth. “Not a minute later. I need to hear her voice, Ronan.”
“You will. She’ll be fine. I promise.”
The call ends, and I stand in the quiet, my free hand trembling at my side.
He says that like it’s a promise he can keep. But promises don’t mean shit if someone already has her.
I kick at the dirt beneath my feet as I call Brennan.
Until all of my brothers are caught up, there’s not much I can do.
It’s clear that whoever is on our tail is starting to overtake, and we can’t afford to miss any details, so I’m going to need as many eyes on this as possible.
Brennan picks up on the first ring. “What happened?”
“Finn’s dead. It was an inside job, and now every safehouse we’ve got is burned. Ronan’s bringing Ciara and Riley back to his place.”
“Jesus Christ. Everything’s gone to shit.”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
“This has to be related. There’re too many moving parts for it not to be.”
I scoff. “No kidding. Meet me at my place. We’re going to need to regroup and come up with a plan.”
“On my way.”
I hang up and immediately dial Cormac.
Normally, I would have Ronan take care of informing him of any significant issues, but seeing as he’s currently focused on keeping Riley safe, that job is now up to me.
The line clicks once before the automated voice comes on, informing me that the number has been disconnected.
I pull the phone away from my ear and frown.
What the hell? Why would Cormac’s number be disconnected?
I hit the call button again and immediately get the same message. I try a third time, hitting the call button harder as if that will somehow reconnect the number, but of course, it doesn’t.
A cold dread snakes through me.
First, Finn is found dead, then the safehouses have been exposed, and now Cormac has gone dark?
Everything is unraveling faster than I can hold it together.
But one thing is certain. Whoever is orchestrating this is coming for my family.