Chapter 13
SLOAN
The shower was the kind of bliss that couldn’t be put into words.
Water swirled the drain, carrying both the grime and anguish from my time in jail, but my stomach still churned.
Growing like poison ivy, the feeling twisted inside me, knotting itself around my organs and holding them captive.
I wasn’t behind bars anymore, but the rage festering in my chest was another type of jail—one that I’d use as a weapon against my enemies.
They thought locking me away would weaken me, but it only made me stronger.
Hungry for revenge.
No matter how much I washed myself, how much water poured over my sore and tired muscles, I still felt dirty.
When I was done washing myself until my skin flushed pink, I stepped out of the shower and grabbed a couple of towels.
I used one to dry myself and the other to wrap around my waist, then stared in the vanity mirror as I dried my hair.
The roots had grown out since I’d been at Rikers, and the brown swallowed the usual bleached parts, giving me a more natural look.
Strands of silver joined the brown, though. A reminder of my mortality.
Shaking my head at the thought, I went back into the bedroom.
Conall wasn’t in the room like I’d expected and concern spiked through me, sharp and alert, a sensation I didn’t welcome at all. Even though we were in our home, that didn’t mean he wasn’t in danger.
I quickly put on comfortable clothing—a loose pair of pants and a light shirt for the nice spring weather outside—and grabbed my handgun from my safe. I gripped the weapon, my throat tightening in anticipation as I stalked out of our bedroom.
I checked his office—not there.
The gym—not there.
The living room—still not there.
Damn it. Threads of anxiety weaved their venomous vines around my heart, strangling the damned organ that only beat for him.
I clenched my teeth until they felt like they were going to shatter in my mouth as I stalked down the hallway.
I caught sight of Ronan near the back door and strode toward him.
“Ronan, where’s my pet?” I barked. It was his job to protect Conall, and Ronan would have been at his side the instant he left the bedroom.
Ronan straightened, his blue eyes flicking sharply in my direction. He squared his shoulders. The afternoon sun that filtered through the door reflected off his neatly styled blond hair. “Boss. He’s outside in the greenhouse. He asked to be alone.”
Some of the worry seeped out of me, and my body lost the tension that had my stomach clenched.
“Why?” I softened my tone and paused at the back door, staring out the glass toward my mother’s—now Conall’s—greenhouse.
He loved that place, but he always had a bodyguard with him when he went in there.
That was a hard and fast rule. He needed someone at all times when I wasn’t around him.
“It was his refuge while you were in Rikers.” Ronan was carefully concise with his words, and while they were said as a statement, I didn’t miss the warmth in them.
He cared about Conall. After eight years, I knew it was nothing but friendship and respect, though. I trusted Ronan with Conall’s life.
Conall had always enjoyed his time in the greenhouse, but I hadn’t realized how important it’d become to him.
I gave Ronan a small nod of appreciation before I swept past him and out the door.
I strode across the grass. The last rays of afternoon sun sent bronze streaks across the lawn and reflected off the glass of the greenhouse, as though guiding me to my sweet pet.
The perimeter of the yard was protected by some of our loyal men, and when I caught their gaze, I tilted my chin in acknowledgement while they lowered theirs in respect.
I kept an eye on them, wariness prickling my spine.
After today, I’d have to evaluate the structure of who to trust.
When I arrived at the greenhouse door, I opened it gently to avoid scaring Conall.
His scratchy voice met my ears, and I frowned as he spoke—to whom, I didn’t know.
As far as I was aware, no one was in here with him.
The only person I might have expected, Vail, wasn’t at the mansion right now, and his partners were dealing with the traitors.
“I know.” He laughed, a bright sound that made my heart flutter. “Having him home is nice. I’ve been so lonely without him.”
I stepped farther into the greenhouse, following the sound of his voice until I came around the corner and caught sight of him sitting on one of the stone benches. He was staring off into space, a frail smile on his face.
More laughter spilled from him and his grin widened. “Bridget, it’s been my honor.”
Bridget? As in my mother?
“I love your son and I would die for him.”
My biceps tensed instinctively and I frowned.
My mother was dead. She’d died here, in her own private sanctuary, long before my pet came along.
Conall knew that. Did he imagine she could hear him in whatever afterlife she resided?
No, that didn’t make sense. It sounded as though he was having a real conversation with someone in front of him. Except she wasn’t there.
No one was.
I stepped in closer, my boat shoes quiet on the gravel of the walkway. When I was close enough, his attention turned to me and he grinned so widely it must’ve hurt. I took note of his flushed cheeks and the manic expression in his eyes.
“Pet?” I took a seat next to him on the cement bench and brushed my knuckle over his cheek. He was hot. Too hot. “Who are you talking to?”
He chuckled and nudged my shoulder with his. “Don’t be rude.” He glanced in front of us again. “He’s just being silly, Bridget . . . . He’s only teasing me, it has nothing to do with you, I promise.”
Alarms blared in my head. “Pet, my mother’s dead.”
He huffed and poked me in the stomach. “Don’t be ridiculous. She’s here.” He waved at the silent, still air in front of us, and my heart pounded against my ribs. “She’s right here. She’s been so nice.”
I swallowed around the concern that tightened my throat. A deep-rooted ache throbbed in my chest and I inhaled deeply. This was worse than Fionn suspected. I should’ve been out of jail earlier, should’ve been here for him.
“Stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.” I laid a gentle kiss on his burning forehead, and he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning into the touch of my lips. I gave him another kiss on the mouth before I was up again and stalking out the door of the greenhouse.
I yanked my phone out of my pants pocket as I stormed toward the house and called the EK Memorial director’s personal phone.
“Hello—”
“It’s me. Send a helicopter to my house.
Now. My pet needs the best doctors you have.
He’s sick and it’s serious.” I shoved open the back door, and Ronan straightened again, his eyebrows dipping in concern when I prowled past him.
“No ifs, buts, or whys. Do it. I expect them to be here ASAP.” I ended the call before he could respond and pointed at Ronan.
“You. Go guard Conall. He’s hallucinating.
Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. ”
Ronan was out the door before I could finish my sentence.
I rushed toward the front door at the same time as Mr. Hopper let Dr. Rory Higgins inside.
He paused when he saw me, hazel eyes wide and concerned.
His short dark red hair was half wet, like he’d taken a quick shower, and he was dressed in a casual white muscle shirt and jeans.
Clearly, he’d been off the clock when he was called.
He clutched his medical bag tight in his fist. “Sir.”
I came to a halt in front of him, my chest clenching and unclenching as unease gripped at my heart.
“Conall’s in the greenhouse. He’s flushed, out of sorts, and is hallucinating.
He thinks he can see my mother and he’s talking to her.
According to my nephew, Conall’s been off for more than a few weeks now.
They thought he was depressed about me being in jail, but it’s more than that.
” I gritted my teeth. “The EK Memorial helicopter should be on the way.”
Rory gave me a sharp nod, and I took charge, turning and storming back toward the greenhouse with Rory following close behind.
My legs pumped and my lungs burned, the desperation to get Rory to Conall driving me forward.
Anxiety spiking, my head grew fuzzy, and my hands clamped into fists in an attempt to keep myself calm.
If I had it my way, I’d burn down Rikers for taking me away from my pet when he needed me the most.
I couldn’t kill anyone to make him better, though.
Uselessness weighed heavily on my shoulders until the heaviness strained my muscles. How could I protect him from himself?
I slammed through the greenhouse door, and Rory was right behind me. We found Ronan sitting beside Conall, talking to him quietly, almost soothingly, and Conall smiled at him.
“Sir?” Rory stepped around to stand in front of Conall, his shoulders tight as he crouched. “How are you feeling?”
Pressure spiked at my temple, throbbing, and I flicked my hand to give Ronan the signal to move. He didn’t hesitate. I stole his spot beside Conall and curled my arm around his shoulders, my hold tight and reassuring.
“To be honest, my neck’s sore.” Conall laughed quietly and rubbed the back of his neck with a wince. “And I’ve kind of been having a headache for a while now. It won’t go away.”
Rory hummed seriously and dropped his bag on the floor beside his foot. He opened it, dragged out a digital thermometer, and pointed it at Conall’s forehead. “Anything else? How have you been sleeping?”
Conall’s right eye twitched and he flicked a worried glance at me. “Not the best. I’ve missed Sloan, though. Sleep is hard without him.”
I smiled sadly at him.