Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
CIARA
He’s not fighting back.
I throw verbal punch after verbal punch, but Ronan just stands there and takes it without even blinking. But his silence only fuels my rage.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“No.”
He stands a few feet away with his hands in his pockets, the picture of ease except for the slight crease between his dark eyebrows.
“I trusted you…” My voice cracks as the last of my fire starts to fizzle out. “Do you understand that?”
“I did it to protect you.”
“You don’t get to decide what I need protecting from.”
He nods slowly as his dark eyes bore into me, as if he can see beyond them into my very soul.
“You’re right, and I’ve apologized for it.”
I exhale a long breath as I sink onto one of the bar stools, the last of my energy draining from me. I’ve barely slept, and the emotional toll that has come with learning of my father’s true past has left me feeling like a shell of the woman I used to be.
As I run my fingers through my knotted hair, the tears I’ve been holding back since the plane ride home from Vegas finally start to fall.
They slide down my cheeks slowly at first, but then the dam breaks, and they stream down my face and drip from my chin as I’m overcome with sobs.
My chest tightens, and I hold a hand to my heart as I try to breathe, but it seems I’ve forgotten how.
“He was my da. He tucked me in at night. He taught me how to ride a bike. He made pancakes on Sundays. And all this time he was…he was—”
Ronan’s arms are around me in an instant, holding me against his chest and stroking my hair as the tears continue to fall.
He says nothing as I sink my fingers into the material of his t-shirt, clinging to him as my body trembles from the force of my sobs.
“What kind of monster does that to people? What kind of father—”
Ronan pulls back and gently strokes his thumb over my cheek, wiping away my tears. “You’re not him. Do you hear me? You’re nothing like him. Your father’s choices don’t define you.”
I shake my head as the tears continue to drip down my chin. “But I loved him.”
“I know.”
“And I miss him.”
“That doesn’t make you a bad person, just makes you human.”
I lean into his touch, needing to feel something other than the crippling emptiness that has taken up residence in my chest. “How am I meant to move past this?”
“You’re strong, Ciara. Stronger than anyone I’ve ever met. And you’re allowed to grieve, but more importantly, you’re allowed to be angry.”
“I wish you’d told me sooner.”
“I wish I had too, but I thought I was doing the right thing. I see now I was wrong.”
I let out a shaky breath. “I blamed you for his death, for keeping secrets, for all of it. But the truth is...he was a coward. He killed himself before the truth could come out.”
Ronan swallows hard. “Yeah, he did.”
“I feel so betrayed…and stupid.”
“You are not stupid.” He takes my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him. “You’re brave for still being here and for facing the truth. But also for letting me in, even just a little.”
I shake my head again. “I haven’t let you in.”
“You just did.”
There’s something in his voice, a rawness I’ve not heard before, that breaks me all over again.
“I need you to promise me something,” I whisper.
“Anything.”
“No more secrets.”
He leans closer until his lips are almost touching mine. “I swear to you, Tine Bhaeg, no more secrets. But that goes both ways, all right?”
I nod as the ache in my chest starts to ease just enough for me to take a full breath.
Ronan strokes his calloused thumbs over my damp cheeks. “You’re beautiful, Ciara. Inside and out. That’s what you need to hold onto. Not the past, and definitely not him.”
I don’t know what possesses me to do it, but I lean in and press my lips softly against his. Maybe I just need to feel something other than pain. Maybe I just need to feel him, feel his strength and warmth as he wraps me in his arms.
Ronan kisses me back softly at first, but then his touch becomes urgent, almost desperate.
Sensing exactly what I need, he wraps an arm around my waist and lifts me off the bar stool and onto the island, moving to stand between my legs as his fingers sink into my hair, tilting my head to deepen the kiss.
I wrap my thighs around his waist, angling my hips so that his erection presses against me. I moan into his mouth, a dull ache building between my thighs as he slowly thrusts his hips against me.
Ronan groans as he grinds against me. “I need to be inside you.”
I break the kiss to glance over his shoulder at the kitchen door. “Your brother could walk in.”
Ronan growls. “If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll walk away the moment he hears you moaning my name.”
A shiver runs down my spine at his words.
I’ve never been into the idea of getting caught, but that mixed with the feral need in Ronan’s eyes makes me so wet I’m certain one thrust of his cock inside me will bring my climax.
I lean back on my elbows as Ronan pulls my leggings and panties down my thighs in one swift movement, leaving me completely bare from the waist down.
“Fuck.” His eyes glaze over as he takes in the sight of my glistening pussy.
I spread my thighs wider. “I need you.”
His eyes darken as he pushes down his sweatpants, and his cock springs free, the tip already glistening with precum. “Come here.”
I push myself into a sitting position and wrap my arms around his powerful shoulders, holding myself against him as Ronan teases my entrance with the tip of his cock.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs before thrusting his hips.
I cry out as I stretch around him, digging my nails into his back as he gives me another inch.
“You’re going to need to be quiet, Tine Bhaeg.” He chuckles in my ear, but that only makes me moan louder.
I tighten my legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer, needing to feel every inch of his cock. I realize I’ve never taken Ronan like this before. It’s only ever been from behind, but this time, I want to see his face when he comes inside me.
“More,” I moan.
He moves his hands to my ass to angle my hips so his cock can sink even deeper inside me.
I bite down on his shoulder, trying to muffle my cries as he starts to pump his hips, but the pleasure is overwhelming.
He keeps one hand on my ass, the other buried in my hair as he holds me steady, his lips hovering over mine as he drives his cock into me, hitting the spot inside me that makes me see stars.
“Oh, god.” I thought I knew what pleasure felt like at the hands of Ronan Sullivan, but having him like this is on a whole other level.
His breath on my skin, the look on his face as he chases his release, this is my undoing.
“Ronan,” I gasp against his mouth as my thighs start to shake.
“I’m right here. You can let go, Ciara.”
I screw my eyes shut as my orgasm hits, my body trembling uncontrollably as I clench around his cock. “Ronan!”
“Fuck.” He pumps his hips faster as he works me through my orgasm.
I forget that I need to be quiet. All I care about is watching Ronan Sullivan lose complete control because of my body, and the more my pussy pulses around him, the faster he thrusts inside me.
“Oh, shit, I’m coming,” he chokes.
“Yes! Give it to me.” I sink my fingers into his hair, pulling hard on the dark strands, which elicits a deep, guttural groan from Ronan.
I try my best to match his pace, but my body is weak in the aftermath of my orgasm, so it’s all I can do to cling to him as he pounds into me.
I watch as his eyes glaze over, and then he spills inside me, his hips jerking as he works to empty himself completely.
“Ciara,” he groans against my lips when he eventually stills.
I hold him tighter, not wanting to let him go just yet, and for a moment, we stay like that, completely intertwined. The only sound is our heavy breathing as we both come down from the high of our release.
“Let me clean you up.” He presses a soft kiss to my mouth before slowly sliding free.
I lie back against the counter as Ronan goes in search of something to clean us up, and once he’s done, he gently pulls my panties over my ankles.
“Come here.” He reaches to help me off the counter.
I stand in front of him, resting my hands on his shoulders as he helps to dress me. Neither one of us speaks, but we don’t need to. I’ve said everything I need to say.
When we’re both fully dressed, I look at him and reach to gently stroke his cheek.
He hasn’t shaved since before Vegas, and the stubble coating his jaw scratches my skin in the best way.
My eyes meet his. “I’m going to need some time to process everything.”
“I know. Just, please, stay here, this is your home, too. I’ll stay out of your way if you want.”
“It’s not about you. This stuff with my da… It feels like my life has imploded.”
“Take all the time you need.” He bends to kiss the top of my head. “I’ll be down the hall if you need me.”
I watch him leave, his touch still lingering on my skin.
I need to distract myself with something, anything, other than sex with Ronan. So, after making a coffee, I head upstairs to my bedroom, where my laptop is waiting for me on the bed.
Determined to forget about what a complete dumpster fire my life is, I open the laptop and load the encrypted files that Ronan showed me days ago, the ones I’ve been unable to crack since.
“What am I missing?”
I’ve tried all my usual tricks, but it seems whoever Seamus Sullivan hired to hide these payments is a sneaky bastard.
I need to come at these from a different angle.
My fingers move on instinct as I try a trick that Mila’s tech genius of a brother, Max, showed me when I was a freshman in college. He said it’s mostly used to break through an older kind of custom encryption, but it can’t hurt to try.
Maybe that's where I’ve been going wrong. Maybe whoever encrypted these payments used an older system in the hopes of flying under the radar…
My fingers fly and to my surprise, Max’s little trick gets me through the first layer of encryption.
“Oh, my god.”
I try it again and get through another layer.
And then I’m in.
A spreadsheet opens, and I quickly scan the account codes and dates, not fully comprehending what I’m seeing.
Until I do.
“What the hell?”
The payments Seamus Sullivan had been making were to my family, apparently.
I blink a few times before scrolling back to the earliest dates, which precede my father’s death by almost a year.
This has to be wrong.
There’s no way Seamus was paying off my father when he had a hand in taking him down.
But there’s no mistaking the name in the note attached to the payments. It’s here in black and white, in the spreadsheet no one could open.
It’s enough to make me wish I hadn’t succeeded in opening it, and I lean back against the plump pillows, completely stunned by what I’ve found.
Why would Seamus have been paying off my father? It doesn’t make sense.
Seamus hated him. Ronan hated him. They were responsible for his downfall, his exile from the circles he fought so hard to stay in, which ultimately led to him putting a bullet in his skull.
Or so I thought.
I’ve been so wrong about the man I thought my father was. I thought he’d been the victim of the Sullivans in this story, but what if it’s the other way around? What if my father had something on Seamus, something big, that was worth Seamus buying his silence over?
My throat burns as I scan the payments once again.
How the hell did I not notice these payments coming into my father’s account back when I was working for him? If I’d spotted them sooner, maybe I could have intervened. Maybe I could have helped…
My eyes flick to my bedroom door.
Ronan’s downstairs, and I should go and tell him what I’ve found. He deserves to know the truth, and I made a promise that there would be no more secrets between us.
But not yet.
Not until I’m sure these are real.
I can’t tell Ronan that Seamus might have been paying my father off until I see it for myself, and not just from the files on a laptop. I need confirmation in the form of the actual accounts and to verify the deposits for myself.
Which means, I need to go back to my family’s estate and log into the family account, and I need to do it without Ronan and Callum finding out.