Chapter 23
Twenty-Three
Beibhinn
The Present
Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded…
—Edgar Allan Poe
“Are you sure about this, Beibhinn?” Rohan hovers behind me with his hands shoved into his pockets while I continue to load up Liam’s Mustang for my impromptu trip. “I can come with you. You don’t need to do this by yourself,” he insists, stepping closer.
Ignoring him, I pick up the two Jerry Cans of petrol and place them next to my hard-shell gun case and duffel bag.
“What’s your plan?” he continues. “Show up unannounced and hope you don’t get yourself killed? You’re smarter than that, B.”
Satisfied I have everything I might need, I slam the boot closed, and toss a glance over my shoulder that says it all. “Stop worrying, Rohan. It doesn’t suit your complexion.”
“For fuck’s sake. I’m allowed to be concerned. You’re walking into the unknown. Anything could happen.”
My eyes roll back as I round the car and pry open the driver’s door, ready to hit the road before it gets too late. There’s nothing more I can say to convince him I’ll be fine and don’t need a chaperone. Making this trip is something I need to do, and I need to do it alone. It was an executive decision that everyone agreed on—everyone but Rohan. For some reason, he thinks I need a chaperone, but I don’t. Once he stops fretting like a mother hen, he’ll realise it too. Monsters don’t hide in the shadows. They linger in the open, wearing masks while they inveigle their victims; there’s nothing to fear.
There’s a reason I want to traipse across the country and convince Seamus Murphy—the head of the Connacht syndicate—to help us avenge Liam’s death. I don’t feel whole in Killybegs, not anymore, not without my brother. This trip allows me to focus on what’s important—revenge.
Besides Lorcan Reilly, Seamus is our best shot at taking down my father and his accomplices: the current Leinster and Munster kings, Gabriel King and Finn Connelly.
Rohan may not like the plan, but the bottom line is we need Seamus to even the scales. His knowledge is critical, and without him, we’re well and truly fucked. Sure, I could be walking the plank, but that’s a worst-case scenario. For all we know, Seamus is the last piece of the puzzle we need.
I appreciate Rohan’s concern, I do, but I’m wasting daylight having this conversation with him, again. It will take me over two and a half hours to get to Kinvara, and it’s already dusk. I need to get on the road, but before I can lower myself into the seat, Rohan halts me by holding his arm out, blocking my path. “Why do I get the feeling there’s something you’re not telling me?”
“Because… you read into everything. I’ve told you what you need to know. After that, it doesn’t concern you.”
I hate omitting details and keeping secrets from him. But it has nothing to do with our current plan and everything to do with Cadden James Connelly.
All day long, he’s called and texted. Each attempt at communication more pathetic than the last. When it comes to our dynamic, I was never one for gossip. I’ve spent so long keeping our relationship—if you can even call it that—a secret that I don’t know how to talk about him with others. And now, the one person I would confide in is gone.
From over my shoulder, I spy Rohan’s eyes narrowing on me before roaming over me with a questioning stare.
What am I supposed to say?
The person I thought was the love of my life is responsible for my biggest loss. Maybe I should tell Rohan how my phone has been buzzing incessantly for the past hour with Snapchats I refuse to open, all from the villain in my love story. Would it be wise to let Rohan know it’s taking everything in me to ignore the irreparable gash in my heart caused by the person I would’ve once laid my life down for?
All of these scenarios make me weak, and that’s something I refuse to become.
I’ll deal with Cadden, but not yet. This trip is the perfect distraction. It allows me time to gather my shit before I have to face the dumpster fire that is my love life.
Twisting on my heel, I lift my gaze to Rohan’s. “Some secrets aren’t permitted to be told. Please, don’t ask questions because I don’t want to be put in a position where I have to lie to you.”
Rohan’s shoulders drop, and as his chest deflates, he mutters, “Jesus Christ, Beibhinn!”
“I’m a big girl, Rí. I can handle it myself. Besides,” I continue, “Saoirse needs you here.” I gesture towards the cabin. “My mam and éanna are busy rifling through years of paperwork looking for a way out of this mess. And Lorcan is dealing with his nephew, Keelan, in hopes of securing a position on the syndicate board.” I draw in a breath and fuel my lungs. “I’m the logical choice for this task. You need to trust that I can do this.”
“It’s not you I’m worried about. I’m aware you can take care of yourself, Bev. But in saying that, Seamus is an unpredictable man. We don’t know which side of this war he stands on. What happens if you get there and things go tits up? Not to mention the elephant in the room, but Cad?—”
I place my palm on his shoulder. “Don’t!” I warn him not to finish that fucking sentence. “I get that you’re trying to protect me, Rohan, but you’re forgetting who I am.” I square my shoulders and pull my bitch into place.
His lips tip to the side. “I know who you are. You’re Beibhinn fucking Devereux.”
A malevolent smile tilts the edges of my mouth, matching his. “Damn straight I am.”
Finally, Rohan dips his chin and steps aside. “Call me the second you get there. I mean it, Bev. If I don’t hear from you by midnight, I’m coming after you.”
“Deal.” I wrap my arms around my cousin, and once I have him close enough, I whisper, “Don’t let Saoirse push you too far away from her, Rohan. The dark is a lonely place when you’ve to walk it alone. Take her hand and make sure she knows you’re there… every step of the way.” With those parting words, I step from his arms and lower myself into the driver’s seat. As I close the door behind me, my gaze snaps to my mother standing on the porch watching our exchange. Arms crossed over her chest, I feel the intake of breath as her shoulders rise. Her mouth forms the words I need. “You got this, baby.”
A soft smile narrows my lips, and I acknowledge her faith in me with a nod.
Tearing my gaze from hers, I throw the Mustang into reverse and focus on the rearview mirror, where Liam’s miniature MMA gloves swing like a pendulum. My eyes close for a brief moment, just long enough to hear his voice in my head. “Time to bust some balls, Bevy.”
I’m barely on the road a half hour when my phone starts pinging incessantly with notification after notification that I know I should ignore. but thanks to the position of the phone holder, I see each one as they appear on the screen. Throughout the course of the day, Cadden hasn’t let up. Only now, from what I can see, his messages seem to be more and more frequent.
If I knew where the fuck I was going, I’d turn my phone off and deal with them later. Unfortunately, I need to follow my Google Maps, so that’s not an option. I stick to my guns for another few minutes, but after the twentieth notification disrupts the satnav directing me, I succumb to curiosity. What the hell is he sending me?
Even though I know I shouldn’t be on my phone while driving, I can’t help myself. I reach for the phone and click on the last Snap to come through. Loud music and raised voices of partygoers bleed through the car’s Bluetooth connection. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I sure as fuck wasn’t ready for the sight on my screen.
My eyes flick between the road ahead and the video where Cadden’s face fills the screen. He’s swigging from a bottle of his favourite whiskey as the camera sways in his unsteady grasp. “I’m not a liar, Pretty Poison. You are.” Gravel laces his words. “ You told me forever, and you lied.” Another sip from the bottle. “ You —you know what… Fuck. You! Fuck you for giving up on us. Fuck this feeling in my chest. Fuck my dad for fuckin’ this all up. Fuck this party in this manor. Fuck the drugs and the alcohol I’ve taken because all they do is remind me of the promises you broke. And”—he pauses before bringing his heterochromatic eyes back to the camera—“and fuck Liam for being in the wrong place at the wrong fuckin’ time.”
The video continues for another few seconds, but because of his state, all I see is a blur of nameless faces as he sways from side to side. Anger takes the wheel, and I push my foot to the floor. Within seconds, I reach the next T-junction, and I’m faced with two options. Taking a right will bring me towards the road that leads to Kinvara and Seamus Murphy. But if I turn left, it will take me towards the M7 that goes straight towards Cadden’s.
All logic goes out the window. I’m consumed by the words he tossed out in the video. Not only is he out of his mind with God knows what flowing through his veins, he’s throwing a fuckin’ party days after he killed my brother. He’s living it up while I try to mend the damage he caused me. It’s then I realise what day it is… the annual beginning-of-summer party the Connelly family hosts every year. Fitting really—the anniversary of when it all started becomes the day it all ends.
Before I can stop myself, I signal left, press down on the accelerator, and ignore the protest of the oncoming traffic as I pull out into the intersection. “Motherfucker.” Looks like I’m taking a detour.
With every passing mile, I hear Cadden’s voice echoing in my head. “ I’m not a liar, Pretty Poison. You are.” I’m a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one of them.
The fucking audacity. He’s the one who sold me a fairy tale then wrapped it in tragedy. Now, he’s mad because I’m done playing pretend. I thought I could ignore what the future holds and hide from the life I once believed was written in the stars. No more. Tonight, I will bury the version of Beibhinn and Cadden who hoped for happily ever after. By morning, nothing will tie me to the tortured poet—not even the promises I made as a foolish girl. I’ll purge the memories from my mind. I’ll do whatever it takes to extinguish the flames that have seared my soul. Then, I’ll pack up the pieces of my broken heart, and stitch them back together with the thread of revenge.
My mother once said, when a man shows you who they truly are, believe them. Cadden painted himself a hero, but that’s not the real him. He’s the villain in my tale… unfortunately for him, the bad guys never win.
After all, what’s a king without his queen? Historically speaking… Fucked!