33. Fiona
Chapter Thirty-Three
FIONA
After Cormac’s subtle warning this morning, I’ve been on the verge of throwing up all day. Just hearing him say Lorcan’s name has me running to the bathroom.
I can’t keep doing this, claiming to be on both sides when the reality is Lorcan has me wrapped in chains.
Even if I wanted to run, he would find me, and I’m not stupid enough to think he would be merciful and kill me quickly.
He would make examples out of the people I care about the most, taking them apart piece by piece, but keeping me alive so I can drown in the grief.
I brace my hands against the sink and stare at my reflection in the mirror.
My eyes look hollow, and my already pale skin has a grayish tint to it.
I can pretend all I like, but my body knows the truth. It’s been carrying it for weeks now, but at some point, it’s going to break.
I’m running out of time, and if I’m not careful, the choice to tell Cormac the truth on my own terms will be taken from me.
“Fiona! You promised to play astronauts with me,” Scout yells from the other side of the door.
I quickly wipe the few stray tears from my cheeks and force a smile.
A strangled laugh escapes me as I catch my reflection again. It’s pathetic, barely convincing, but it’s the smile I give him anyway because no matter what war I’m fighting in my mind, Scout doesn’t get to witness it.
Cormac doesn’t get home until I’m plating up dinner. He looks exhausted and distracted, but somehow he still manages to give Scout his full attention even though I can practically see the weight sitting on his shoulders.
While Cormac takes Scout up to bed, I quickly clear the dishes and head upstairs to my room.
My face is aching from forcing smiles all day, and I’m desperate for a quiet night in. One where Cormac and I curl up on the couch with a blanket and watch a corny rom-com and pretend like the outside world doesn’t exist.
I have a feeling he needs it even more than I do. He’s barely spoken two words to me, and I can tell from the faraway look in his eyes that something is bothering him.
But I know better than to ask questions.
I take a quick shower, towel-dry my hair, and pull on one of Cormac’s T-shirts I stole from his closet. It hangs off one shoulder and comes down to my knees, but I don’t care. It smells of him. And tonight, I need the extra comfort.
The penthouse is dim, lit only by the lamp in the upstairs hallway.
I pad down the last few steps and freeze when I find Cormac standing by the elevator with his coat on and his keys in hand.
Was he planning on leaving without saying goodbye?
“You’re…going out?”
He stiffens, then turns his head toward me.
His eyes drag over me slowly, taking in my damp hair and the oversized T-shirt hanging off one shoulder. But instead of seeing that familiar need in his eyes that I’ve grown to crave, I see nothing but the cold, distant look he wore over dinner.
“Yeah. I need to take care of something.”
A knot forms in my stomach. “Now?”
“It can’t wait.”
I step off the last step, unsure why I suddenly feel like I’m intruding. “Were you even going to say anything?”
“I was going to tell you.”
That sounds like a lie, but he won’t look at me long enough for me to get a read on him.
“Is everything okay?” I ask softly.
For a second, his brows pull together as if he’s in pain, but he shuts it down with brutal efficiency, making me question whether it was ever there in the first place.
“Everything’s fine.”
I don’t believe him because it feels like he’s miles away, like I’m losing him.
It’s a far cry from the way he was this morning, kissing me and reassuring me that everything is going to be all right.
Something has happened to make him pull away from me, and the only explanation I can think of is the one I’m hoping is not true.
“Cormac…” I try again, but my voice cracks.
Is this it? Is this the last time I’ll ever see him?
I’d rather he takes the knife that I know is in his pocket and just slits my throat because the not knowing is torture.
“Cormac, please. Tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
There it is again, offering me that same vague reassurance when I know what he really wants to say is don’t ask questions.
“Will you be back soon?” I hate how small I sound.
“Later.”
That’s all I get. He doesn’t even say goodbye, let alone offer me a kiss. And suddenly, the cozy night I imagined we would share feels na?ve, stupid even.
I stand there for a few seconds long after the elevator doors slide shut, listening to the silence he leaves behind as my heart cracks open inside my chest.
I run a hand through my damp hair and try to swallow past the lump in my throat.
I thought we were… I don’t know, growing closer, shifting into something real. But the distance he just put between us? That wasn’t an accident. That was deliberate.
And it hurts like hell.
I make my way into the kitchen, hoping a glass of water will help settle me. But it doesn’t.
My hands shake so much I spill some on the counter while my thoughts start to spin out of control.
Considering how late it is, there’s no way Cormac is off to do something that isn’t illegal or dangerous, or both, and I can’t help thinking I’m the reason he’s out there tonight.
I’m the reason he’s spiraling. If I hadn't gotten tangled up in Lorcan’s threats, if I hadn’t agreed to spy, if I hadn't lied…
My stomach twists hard.
What if he gets hurt? What if he ends up like my sister because I wasn’t careful enough? And god, what if Scout ends up caught in the crossfire of all this because Lorcan decides I’m no longer useful?
A wave of nausea hits me so sharply I grip the counter as I fight the urge to vomit.
I can’t live with that.
I won’t.
I need to fix this. I need to untangle this mess before it swallows all of us whole.
But how? I don’t know where Lorcan is. All I have is a burner number he uses to pull my strings. Even if I did want to find him, I don’t have any idea where to start?—
My head snaps up as an idea sparks in my mind.
Zoe.
Or, more importantly, Zoe’s uncle.
He’s not exactly a law-abiding citizen, but from what Zoe has told me, he can track down the untraceable and expose secrets even people like Lorcan want to keep hidden. And if Zoe’s constant dramatic stories are anything to go by, he’s damn good at it too.
Maybe he could find Lorcan, or at the very least, give me something, anything, to work with.
I shove away from the counter and hurry upstairs to my room. I shut the door quietly behind me and sit on the bed with my phone gripped in both hands.
I can’t believe I’m about to do this, but if my gut feeling is right and Cormac is starting to question my loyalty, I need to move fast.
I scroll to Zoe’s name before I can second-guess myself and hit call.
“Fi! Perfect timing, I swear to God, you wouldn’t believe the?—”
“Zoe.” My voice cracks, and I suck in a breath as I’m hit with a wave of panic. “I—I need your help.”
The shift in her tone is instant. “Fiona… What’s going on?”
“I need your uncle’s number.”
There’s a beat of silence until Zoe speaks again. “Is this because of Joe, or because of Cormac?”
I close my eyes as the tears start to stream down my cheeks. I can’t tell her. I can’t drag her into this nightmare.
“I just need it. Please.”
She must hear the desperation in my voice because for once, she doesn’t push for answers.
“I’ll text it to you.”
“Thank you.”
“But just tell me this… Are you safe?”
No.
“I’m okay. I’ll call you later.”
I hang up the phone before she decides to start asking questions.
A second later, her uncle’s number pops up in my messages.
My hands tremble as I press call. It rings only twice before a deep, firm voice answers.
“This is Carl.”
“Hi. Um… I’m F-Fiona Callahan, I’m a friend of Zoe’s.”
“What do you need?” he asks without hesitation.
“I need to find someone. I don’t know anything about him except his phone number.”
“Is he dangerous?”
“Very.”
“Send me the number.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it. I’ll call you when I have something.”
“I-I can pay?—”
“No. You’re Zoe’s friend. There’s no payment necessary.”
I swallow hard. I’m not used to asking favors without there being a catch. But it seems that for once, there isn’t one.
“Thank you.”
He hangs up, and I exhale as I set the phone down on the bed.
Maybe there’s a chance that this could work out. Maybe I can beat Lorcan at his own game, and Cormac can find some way to forgive me.
It’s a thin hope, but right now, it’s all I have. If I let it go, the guilt will eat me alive for what I’ve done not just to Cormac, but to Scout too.
My feet move before my mind catches up, and I creep down the hall toward Scout’s room.
I push the door open and peer inside.
The soft glow from the nightlight illuminates the small mound of blankets that Scout has buried himself beneath. He’s curled on his side with his mouth slightly open, and his dark hair sticking up from sleep in the same way that Cormac’s does.
His stuffed dinosaur is tucked securely against his chest with his little fingers wrapped around its neck, as if he’s afraid it might run away in the night.
He looks so peaceful. So completely untouched by the web of threats and secrets that is forming around his family.
My chest tightens until it aches.
What if Lorcan’s mess leaks into this room and steals his innocence away?
The thought nearly makes my knees buckle.
I step fully into the room and kneel beside the bed, brushing a strand of hair from Scout’s forehead. “I’m so sorry. I’m going to fix this. I swear.”
I should have realized how much power I was handing over to Lorcan when I asked him to get information on Amber, but I was so blinded by grief and my own helplessness that I convinced myself I was doing the right thing.
Instead, I became exactly what Lorcan wanted.
A pawn.
But I refuse to make that mistake again.
I can’t let Scout become collateral damage because of me, because of the choices I’ve made.
Debt or no debt, this ends now.
I failed Carly, and I failed my nieces, and that is a truth I have been running from for far too long. I should have fought harder instead of letting Joe shut me out. I should have clawed my way back into their lives instead of using my grief over Carly’s death as a crutch to excuse my inaction.
And now my choices have caught up with me.
There’s nowhere left to run except straight through the fire I’ve been avoiding, because there is still a chance, however small, that I can keep Scout safe. That I can protect Cormac. That my nieces won’t suffer the same way Carly did.
I’ll make sure of it.
Even if it costs me my life.