Chapter 35 Sorcha
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
SORCHA
He pulls back, his hand still warm on the back of my neck.
The kiss wasn’t a kiss, more a punctuation mark on his statement, a seal on our new agreement.
My heart is hammering against my ribs, a chaotic rhythm that’s part exhaustion, part fear, and part something else entirely.
Something that feels dangerously like trust. I just handed him the keys to my weaknesses, and instead of using them against me, he looks at me like I’ve just handed him a crown.
He doesn’t let go of my neck. His grip is a gentle but firm reminder of the power I’ve just given him as he steers me away from the changing rooms. Axl and Cillian fall in beside us without a word, their presence a solid wall on either side. They heard everything. I can feel their approval.
They lead me to the dining hall, and the smell of cooked food and coffee hits me.
My stomach growls loud enough for Cillian to snort beside me.
I shoot him a glare, but there’s no heat in it.
Ciar sits me down at an empty table in a secluded corner and moves wordlessly towards the food counters, leaving me flanked by the other two soldiers.
My guards. My kings. This is surrender, and it tastes a hell of a lot like victory.
I have no idea what Ciar will return with, but I know I will eat it without complaint. I didn’t lie before. This cross country hell was an eye-opener at how useless I am when it comes to stamina. I won’t be the weak link in their chain.
Ciar returns with a tray in his hands, laden with a plate that could feed a small army. Steak, a pile of scrambled eggs, fried potatoes, thick slices of toast, a glass of orange juice and a mug of coffee. He sets it in front of me with a thud, a silent command.
“Eat,” he says.
I pick up my knife and fork without a word and cut into the steak.
The first bite is a promise. I chew and swallow, my eyes locked with his.
I am his to build, his to train, his to feed.
But my body will be my weapon, and I will be the one who wields it.
He watches me shovel food into my mouth, his expression a mixture of grim satisfaction and something else, something darker and more proprietary.
He’s won a battle I didn’t even know we were fighting, and the victory is written all over his face.
I don’t utter a word as I eat every last bite until the plate is clean.
I’m not their liability. I’m their fucking investment, and I’m about to start paying dividends.
“Better?” he growls.
I nod, being completely truthful. “Much. Thanks. You can go and get yourselves something now.”
He snickers at my command, but he and Axl rise, leaving Cillian to watch over me.
“Good girl,” he murmurs.
I lean forward, a smile curving my lips that some might say is seductive. “Say that again and you might get lucky.”
His eyes darken, a storm gathering in their blue depths. He leans closer, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through the table. “Good girl.”
My breath hitches. The words, coming from him, are a brand. Not a term of endearment, but a statement of ownership that ignites something primal deep inside me. He doesn’t smile. He just watches my face, his gaze stripping me bare, seeing the part of me that craves this control, this submission.
Before I can respond, Ciar and Axl return, their trays laden with food and one for Cillian as well. They slide into the seats, the intense moment between me and Cillian broken.
I turn my attention to them, all business.
“Today was a prime opportunity for someone to take a shot at me, and they didn’t.
So, this begs the question: are they just messing with us, got bored and found someone else to shoot at, has someone stepped in on our behalf to annihilate them, or are they lulling us into a false sense of security? ”
“You are still thinking like this is a hit,” Axl says, slicing into his steak. “This is a game of cat and mouse.”
“Okay, so why didn’t the cat chase us into the woods?”
“Too enclosed, maybe?” Ciar frowns. “I’ll admit, I was expecting something.”
“Exactly,” I say. “They are fucking with us.”
“Or they know they won’t get to you without going through us. That means they have to fight us, or shoot us,” Axl says. “All three of our dads have been informed of this shitshow. Waves are being made.”
“That might turn into tsunamis at this rate.”
“Tsunamis have a way of wiping the board clean,” Cillian says, his voice a low, ominous rumble. He stabs a piece of egg with his fork, his eyes fixed on me. “Sometimes that’s necessary.”
“True, but this isn’t their fight. They want me. The question is, what for?”
“They are definitely trying to isolate you,” Axl says. “Our theory is that the police call-out was to get you in a place where they could abduct you.”
My heart thumps. “But Cian got to me first, and they didn’t want to take him on.”
“Yeah.” He chews, his eyes narrowing as he swallows. “This Liam arsehole. Are you sure he is who you say he is?”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning could be undercover?”
“For who, though?”
“Himself.”
I blink as that sinks in. “Are you saying he might be running his own crew?”
“With a far reach.”
“It’s possible,” I say, slowly. I think back to Liam. He was a ghost, a drifter, always charming, always broke. He lived for the next score, the next lay. He wasn’t a leader. He was a follower. But was he just really good at duping me?
“Well, we’re going to look deeper,” Axl says. “We’re going to peel him back layer by fucking layer until we see what he’s hiding underneath.”
The violent promise in his voice is a comfort. It’s twisted, I know, but it’s the only kind of comfort that makes sense in this world. “He’ll be looking for me,” I say. “He’ll try again. I need to be more open to it.”
“Let him fucking try,” Cillian says, his voice a low, cold threat. “He’ll find us instead.” He looks at me, and his message is clear. He’s still pissed about the kiss, still hungry for a chance to put his hands on Liam again.
“No, she’s right,” Ciar says. “We use her as bait.”
Bait.
It hits me with a shot of ice to my veins. But that is exactly what this is.
“No,” Cillian growls.
“This is my plan,” I point out. “I need to know if Liam is being used or if he’s behind this entire thing and has been from the start.
It’s smart. It’s tactical. It fucking makes sense how he knew exactly who I was all along and how he found me here.
The more I think about it, the more I think I’m onto something.
Liam isn’t who I thought he was. He is a bigger fish than he made out, I’m sure of it. ”
Cillian’s jaw clenches, the muscle ticking beneath the skin. He doesn’t like it. None of them do. But the truth is sitting heavy between us like a stone in water.
“If Liam is behind this,” I continue, leaning forward, my voice dropping low enough that only they can hear, “then he’s been playing me from the start.
Every fuck, every conversation, every moment was calculated.
He wasn’t some lowlife thug that randomly found me in England. He was positioning himself.”
“What’s the play?” Ciar asks, getting on board with this faster than Cillian. Axl is still weighing his options by the looks of it.
“My flat,” I say instantly. “I go back and wait for him to show up. Technically, I still live there. That’s the address St. Bart’s has for me. That’s the address he will know.”
“No fucking way,” Cillian snaps, his hand slamming down on the table hard enough to rattle the plates. “You’re not going back there alone.”
“It’s the only way,” I counter, keeping my voice steady even though my pulse is hammering.
“And if he brings back up?” Axl asks, his tone deceptively casual, but I see the calculation in his green eyes. “If this is bigger than one man with a hard dick?”
“Then we find out exactly how big. If Liam thinks I’m alone, isolated, he’ll make his move. None of you can even be in the vicinity. You have to be out in public, where everyone can see you.”
Ciar leans back in his chair, his massive frame radiating tension. But I see the moment he accepts it, the subtle shift in his expression. “That leaves you completely alone.”
“I can handle Liam,” I grit out, although now I’m not so sure. “I’ll play into his hands, let him think we can pick up where we left off. I’ll find out his plans—”
“If he lays even one hand on you, I will rip it off, shove it up his arse and pull it out of his mouth,” Cillian growls.
“He’s going to have to lay his hands on me,” I grit out. “Do I like it? No. Will I let him get close enough to feel things are going his way? Hell, fucking, yes.”
“No,” Ciar says, shaking his head. “You don’t know where that will end up, and I can assure you, if this ends up with you opening your legs for him, I will skin you alive.”
I meet his gaze. “That won’t happen,” I say steadily. “Do you trust me?”
The question hangs in the air. I don’t even know if they do or don’t, and that’s scarier than Ciar’s threat.
Before he can answer, I say, “I know I won’t betray what we’re building here.
If things get out of hand, I will gut Liam without a second’s hesitation if things go past what I’m willing to tolerate, even if that means I lose out on getting the information.
Even if that sentiment wouldn’t be returned, I’m not a fucking cheater. ”
The silence that follows my declaration stretches like a knife blade between us. Ciar’s eyes bore into mine, searching for the lie, the crack in my armour. He won’t find it. I meant every word.
“I believe you,” he finally says, his voice rough. “But that doesn’t mean I like it. And don’t ever question my loyalty to you, Sorcha. No one will ever have a claim on me again.”
“That goes for all of us,” Cillian growls. “I fucking hate this.”
“You don’t have to like it,” I say, my hands flat on the table. “You just have to let me do it.”
Axl taps his fingers on the table, a rhythmic pattern that draws my attention. “She’s right. If Liam is the key, we need to turn it. But we need insurance.” His gaze shifts to Cillian, then Ciar. “We wire her flat. Cameras, audio, the works. We’ll be watching every second.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “If he is a pro, he will check for all that shit. We do this old-skool.”
“That leaves you completely alone,” Axl states.
“I know. If anything happens to me, you have my permission to cage me in your townhouse cellar, take away all my freedoms and feed me constantly until I’m too big to move.”
Ciar snorts. “Oh, you know we will. I also enjoy the fact that you know we know starving you won’t bother you.”
We share a smile and bond on a really weird level that makes me warm and fuzzy inside, despite the danger of what I’m proposing.
I push my empty plate away and lean back, letting my gaze drift over the three of them.
They’re all tense, wound tight like springs ready to snap.
I’ve just asked them to do the impossible—to let me walk into danger alone, to trust that I won’t get myself killed or worse.
“When?” Cillian asks, his voice tight.
“Now. I’ll go back to my flat now and just wait.
Who knows when or even if he will turn up, but we have to give him as much opportunity as possible, especially after Cillian flattened him.
” I watch the tension ripple through all three of them, a wave of masculine protectiveness that would be suffocating if it wasn’t so fucking intoxicating.
They don’t want me to go. Every fibre of their beings is screaming against it. But they also know I’m right.
“Fine,” Ciar finally says, the word forced through gritted teeth.
“Sorcha—” Cillian starts, but I cut him off.
“This is my call,” I say firmly. “This is all about me, and I need to find out what the fuck is going on before I drive myself nuts wondering what the play is.”
Axl sighs. “Okay, sunshine. But you check in every hour. Text, not call. If we don’t get that text, or we find anything suspicious about it, we’re coming in hot.”
I nod and breathe out that they are done fighting me on this. “That’s fair.”