13. Fiona
Chapter Thirteen
FIONA
I press my hand to the cold glass of the upstairs window, holding my breath as I watch Scout and Cormac in the garden below.
Scout’s chasing a bug along the stone patio, completely oblivious to the mid-February chill. Even with the window closed, I can hear Scout’s laughter, so light and carefree.
My chest tightens because, for a while, I thought I would never hear that sound again. And while I may no longer have the relationship with him that I once had, even just getting to witness his smile from afar is enough. At least for now.
Cormac follows closely behind Scout, barely leaving more than a yard’s distance between them as his eyes constantly scan for danger, as if he’s terrified someone is going to jump out of the bushes and snatch him.
Even with the extra security precautions he’s taken, I wonder if that fear will ever truly go away.
I haven’t interacted with Scout once since he came home. I know Cormac is trying to rebuild his son’s world and sense of safety, but it hurts to watch from the sidelines.
I wonder if he’s asked for me, if he catches sight of me around the house on the rare occasions I’m brave enough to leave my room.
All I can do is hope that he doesn’t think I don’t care, because that couldn’t be further from the truth.
As I stand at the window and watch Scout play, I realize how badly I want to reach out, to scoop him into my arms and apologize for all the ways I’ve failed.
Suddenly, Scout stumbles, and my pulse spikes as I watch him start to fall onto the hard stones.
But Cormac’s hand shoots out instinctively to steady him, and then he’s off again, waving his net around in front of him as he resumes his task of bug catching.
Cormac hangs back for a moment, offering Scout a rare moment of independence. Then he turns, and his eyes flick upward to the window where I’m standing, watching.
Our gazes lock through the glass, and my body freezes, my breath catching in my throat.
He doesn’t wave or offer me a smile. He just…looks.
For a fraction of a second, the world narrows to just us, and then just as quickly it’s gone, and Cormac is jogging away to catch up to Scout.
Later that afternoon, I find myself in the laundry room, folding towels and endless onesies straight from the dryer. I stack them in neat piles, finding the repetitive work helps to quiet my thoughts.
Though, the peace is short-lived when Cormac’s voice cuts through the quiet.
“Fiona.”
I glance up, unsurprised to see Cormac standing with his arms crossed and his expression unreadable. I can’t remember the last time I saw him smile, and that thought makes my stomach sink, because he’s even more handsome when he smiles.
“What are you doing?” He looks from me to the mountain of laundry, and back again.
“I’m helping fold some clothes. I need to feel useful.”
He gestures to the neatly stacked laundry. “That’s what the maids are being paid to do.”
I shrug and continue folding the clothes regardless. “Trust me, there’s enough laundry to go around.”
“If the maids are slacking—”
“Cormac,” I snap.
He freezes, surprise flickering in his eyes.
I sigh. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to… Sometimes, I just need to feel like I’m doing something right. That I’m being useful in some way.”
I chew on my lower lip as I add another pile of folded onesies to the basket.
Cormac doesn’t say anything, but I can feel him watching me.
“Was there something you needed?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I don’t know why I even asked.
The only reason Cormac seeks me out these days is that he needs something from me, whether that’s sex or to sprinkle some extra breadcrumbs for Lorcan to follow. Considering we’re waiting on Lorcan to reach out, that means he’s here for sex.
Was it too much to have just an hour to myself where I could fold laundry and pretend that my life is normal and not on the verge of blowing up?
I lift a pile of clean burp cloths and add them to the basket to be taken to Riley’s room. “Fine. Can I take these upstairs first? Or are you that insatiable that we’re going to fuck on top of the washing machine now?”
For the first time in weeks, I see the corner of Cormac’s mouth twitch. It happens so quickly I almost miss it.
“I don’t want sex.”
“Then what do you want?”
“What makes you think I want something?”
“You’re seriously asking me that question?” I snatch up the basket of clean laundry. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I have something for you.” He tucks his hands into his pockets.
“You literally just said you don’t want sex.”
Cormac pinches the bridge of his nose, as if he’s the one whose patience is fried.
Has he tried living with himself recently? One second, he’s telling me he can barely stand to look at me, and the next, he’s bending me over every available surface just so he can fuck me.
“I don’t.”
“Cormac, I’m tired. I want to go and give these to Riley and take a shower. Can this wait?”
“It can, but I don’t think you’ll want to wait.”
I narrow my eyes, wondering if this is some kind of joke. “What is it?”
He jerks his head toward the kitchen.
I hesitate just a fraction, but curiosity gets the better of me, and I drop the laundry basket back onto the counter and follow him into the kitchen.
Waiting for me on the island is a thin manila envelope. There is no writing on the front, and it’s fairly thin, which makes me even more intrigued.
“This isn’t a restraining order, is it?”
Cormac rolls his eyes, and for a fraction of a second, it feels like it did before, when we could have a joke with each other and pretend that life wasn’t so dark and serious.
“Just open the damn envelope.”
My fingers shake as I slide them beneath the lip of the envelope and open it up to find a handful of important looking documents.
I slide them out slowly, frowning when I notice various different bank logos. I set them down on the island, and Cormac watches me silently as I look through each one.
It’s nothing but bank statements and evidence of various accounts that belong to—
“These are Joe’s,” I say, stunned. “H—how did you get these?”
“I know people.”
“Okay… different question. Why do you have them?”
“What do you think you’re looking at?” Cormac asks plainly.
“A bunch of bank statements that tell me Joe is more well—off than I thought.”
Cormac rifles through the documents and tosses a particular one down in front of me.
“Try seven million dollars well—off.”
It’s a good thing I’m not drinking anything, otherwise I would have sprayed it everywhere.
“There’s no way.”
“The evidence is right in front of you, along with the supposed tax returns he’s filed over the past four years.”
I lay the tax returns beside the bank statement and flick back and forth between the two. I’m no accountant, but it doesn’t take a math whiz to realize the vast difference between the numbers.
“This is evidence of tax fraud,” I whisper as I stare at the eye-watering amount of money he has stashed away.
Did he have this when Carly was in trouble? Because if he did and he chose not to help her…
“I’m actually going to kill him. Why would he do something this stupid?”
I slam my hand down onto the counter. “Carly is dead. If he gets caught, he could get serious prison time. And then what? Who’s going to look after the gir—” I look at Cormac, my eyes wanting to bug out of their orbits.
“What?” He quirks a brow.
My eyes narrow at him. “Why did you do this?”
“Because you want your nieces back, and this gets you that.” He says it so casually, as if he didn’t just offer me a life-changing gift.
My mind reels.
This is the first thing Cormac has done for me that isn’t about punishing me, so what’s changed?
Why has he suddenly had a change of heart?
“I realize that, but what I’m asking you is why?”
“Does it matter?”
It matters more than anything.
“Yes—”
“I suggest you give your brother-in-law a call.” Cormac reaches into his pocket and pulls out my phone.
“She’s allowed to make personal calls now? What the fuck, Cormac?”
I whirl around to find Kieran storming into the kitchen, his face like thunder.
“She’s calling her brother-in-law, that’s all,” Cormac answers coolly.
“While she’s at it, why doesn’t she give Lorcan a call too, huh? After all, he must be missing his little puppet—”
“Kieran.”
Kieran stiffens at the sound of Riley’s voice.
The three of us look over to find her standing in the doorway, holding Aubrey over her shoulder.
I guess if she didn’t know my history before, she sure as hell does now.
I take a step toward her. “Riley—”
She holds up a hand, her eyes fixed firmly on her husband. “I’m taking Aubrey for her bath,” she says to Kieran. “I think you should join us.”
I don’t know what’s more terrifying. Kieran’s glare or Riley’s tone.
Neither leaves any room for arguing.
I shrink slightly at the anger radiating off Kieran, but the presence of his wife and child is enough to snap him out of his rage.
He offers me a final glare before stalking from the room, and I don’t take a breath until his footsteps disappear upstairs.
“Cormac—”
He doesn’t give me a chance to finish, just sets the phone down on the counter. “You should call Joe.”
I stare at the phone, wondering why Cormac is insisting on helping me with something that has zero effect on him.
Unless this is his way of extending a hand, of silently saying that he’s open to the idea of forgiving me.
The thought has me snatching up the phone and dialing Joe.
It’s been weeks since we’ve spoken, weeks without any update on Amber. I can only hope that everything is fine, though considering that not even a medical emergency like heart surgery is enough to get the asshole to call, I don’t have high hopes.
“Hello?”
“Joe, it’s me,” I say carefully.
“I told you not to call me—”
“You should have thought of that before you decided to commit tax fraud,” I blurt before he has a chance to hang up.
Silence.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Joe retorts.
I almost smile.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”
“You bitch.”
“Why are you getting mad at me? You’re the one who’s risking spending multiple decades in federal prison.”
“Can you really blame me after what your sister did? She left us in financial ruin—”
“Don’t you dare blame this on Carly.”
“Oh, yes. Saint Carly, who never did anything wrong.”
I grip the edge of the counter. I catch Cormac shifting out of the corner of my eye.
Maybe this would have been better if he’d spoken to Joe.
“I think we should renegotiate my rights to see Amber and Skye.” My voice is shaking with anger.
“I told you, I don’t want you anywhere near them.”
“You’re not going to have much choice when they’re put in my custody when you get arrested.”
“You’re seriously threatening to take them away from their only remaining parent?”
“Trust me, they’re better off under my care than yours.”
“I highly doubt that, considering who you like to get involved with.”
I look over at Cormac.
He’s standing with his arms folded, watching me with that intense stare of his.
I look away. “Let me see the girls, or I’m calling the police. It’s your choice.”
There’s a long pause, and I grip the phone tighter as I wait for Joe to reply.
If this doesn’t work, I have no more cards left to play. Other than perhaps sending Cormac over there to deliver this message in person.
“Fine,” Joe finally snaps. “You can see them. But don’t think this changes anything.”
I exhale in relief. “Thank you.”
I barely finish speaking the words before Joe hangs up the call.
I set the phone down and glance at Cormac.
He hasn’t moved an inch, his eyes still fixed on me. “Well?”
I can’t fight the smile that tugs at my lips. “He agreed to let me see the girls.”
I wait for him to smile, but he doesn’t.
He simply dips his chin once in the barest acknowledgment.
“Cormac, I… I can’t thank you enough. Helping me like this… It says a lot about who you are.”
His eyes meet mine, his expression hard and unreadable.
“I know how much they mean to you.”
I swallow, feeling a mix of hope and guilt.
For the first time in days, his attention feels almost like it did before, as if he might be starting to forgive me.
He looks away. “I have to head out.”
I nod, swallowing down everything I still want to say to him.
He’s halfway to the door when I realize he’s left the phone on the counter.
“Cormac.” I pick up the phone.
He pauses and looks over his shoulder, clocking the phone in my hand.
His eyes linger on it for a beat before he simply turns and walks away.
It takes me a moment to process that he’s letting me have the phone. If that’s not a gesture of trust, then I don’t know what is.
A strangled sort of sound escapes my lips, halfway between a laugh and a sob.
Today, I won two small victories. Not only will I be able to see Amber and Skye, but I have a feeling that Cormac is finally starting to forgive me.
At least I hope that is it. Because the alternative is that he is letting me go. And I’m not ready to say goodbye to him or Scout.