18. Cian
Cian
I tucked Skylar back into bed—fever-free, clean, and exhausted. I sat beside her, spooning soup into her mouth, taking the occasional mouthful myself.
“You’ll get sick, fuckwit.”
“Nah. I’m good. Immune system like bars of steel.” I stole another wonton, chewing and swallowing as she shook her head, rolling her eyes.
“Rusty bars,” she snorted.
I glared at her. “You accused me of infecting you, so how could I get sick?”
“Your body is used to your own cooties. They’ll get you soon enough.” She sniffed. “I didn’t stand a chance.”
I set down the soup and shifted so I was hovering over her. “My cooties too strong for you, Skylar?”
“Yes.”
I kissed the corner of her mouth, dragging my lips to her ear. “You don’t like my cooties?” I bit down gently on her earlobe. “My cooties like you—very much.”
She shivered. “I didn’t say that.”
I chuckled against her skin, cupping her cheek and kissing her tenderly. “I’m sorry you’ve been so sick.”
“I’m sorry I flushed my cell phone and made you worry.”
“Well, let’s face it. Once you puked on it, it was probably toast anyway.”
“I could have tried to fix it.”
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, I started to laugh. Of course MacGyver would try to fix it. “It’s fine.” I kissed her again, brushing my lips over her forehead. “You won’t need it after tomorrow.”
“Why?”
I sat back down and lifted the bowl of soup, holding up the spoon. She shook her head.
“Why, Cian?”
“It’s all coming to a head, Kitten. Sean let me come see you so I would stop worrying and get my head in the game. Tomorrow—” I grabbed her hands, holding tight “—Frank is coming to get you and take you to where Julia is. I won’t see you until after this is over.”
“It’s just a couple of days,” she whispered. “Right?”
“It’ll be longer. I won’t be able to get to you until we deal with the aftermath is handled.”
“How long?”
I hesitated.
“How long, Cian?”
“It could be a few weeks.”
Her face fell, her shoulders hunching inward. “Oh.”
“You have to go, Skylar. I need to know you’re safe. If I’m distracted…”
She shook her head, squeezing my hands hard. “No, I understand. I’ll go. I don’t want you worrying about me.”
I smiled ruefully. “I’ll worry anyway, but not the same way.” I ran my knuckles over her cheek. “I’m always going to worry about you now, Kitten. I love you.”
“I love you.”
I reached for the bowl, but she shook her head. “I don’t want any more.”
“You need to eat.”
“I will. After you leave—I promise.” She moved over. “Can you just lie with me for a while? Hold me?”
I slid in beside her, pulling her into my arms. I could feel her body shaking, her grip tight. “Be brave for me, Kitten. Let me do what I have to, and I’ll come back to you.”
Her voice was small. “You promise?”
“Yes.” I lifted her chin, kissing her soft mouth. “You need someone to look after you. Who else is going to do it?”
She snorted. “I think you have that backward, fuckwit.”
I kissed her again.
She was right.
S he slept, her hand still fisted on my shirt. My phone buzzed, and I checked the screen.
She OK?
I quickly replied.
Sick—but better. Cell phone toast.
Do I want to know?
It’s feeding the fishes.
How appropriate. Have you left?
Soon.
Now.
OK.
Leave her your phone. I have another. You can call her.
Thanks.
It’s chipped. I’ll make sure she’s OK.
Good.
You have to leave.
I know.
I looked down at Skylar, smiling when I saw she was awake and looking at me. Her eyes were clearer, although she still looked tired.
“You have to go?”
I nodded, brushing my lips over her forehead. “I’ll leave this cell. Keep it with you at all times, okay?”
“Will you let me know you’re okay?”
“Yes. I’ll call you when I can.”
I hesitated. “I saw some new art in the kitchen. I loved them, Skylar.”
She smiled, a soft color highlighting her pale cheeks. “Oh. They’re just little ideas.”
I brushed my fingers down her cheek. “Your ‘little ideas’ fill me with hope.”
“They do?”
“You’re painting our future.”
She looked shy, and I knew I was right. I’d been back in the kitchen to get her more juice as she dozed and seen them.
A house by the water, a bike lying on the lawn by the front door.
A picnic laid out on a blanket, figures playing ball in the background.
They were done with a deft hand and made me smile.
I knew what they meant. She believed in me.
In us. That we would move on from this and live our lives together.
The soft color pictures meant more to me than she knew.
“I want you to paint more—we’ll hang them in our home.”
“Okay,” she said softly.
I hated the fact that I had to go, but I knew I had no choice.
I got up, reaching for my jacket. “Go with Frank and be safe for me.”
She sat up, the glimmer of tears in her eyes. “Come back to me, Cian.”
Cupping her cheek, I memorized her sweet face. “I will, Skylar. I swear it. This will all be over, and we’ll start a new life together. No more living on the streets for you, no more blood and death for me.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
I kissed her gently. “You do that.”
She pulled me back, her mouth open, and I succumbed to her easily. I kissed her back deeply, pushing all the passion and love I felt for her into that kiss.
It took everything I had in me to walk away from her.
I arrived back at the club, shocked when I found Sean waiting for me in the restroom.
“What’s going on?”
“Something’s up.”
Every muscle in my body tensed. “What happened?”
He paced the small room, pulling his hands through his hair. “I don’t know. Orson got a call while we were playing cards. He left the room, and when he came back, something was off. He was edgy, almost twitching.”
“That’s how we want him. The edgier he is, the more mistakes he’ll make.”
Sean stopped pacing. “No. This wasn’t the tense, I-don’t-know-what’s-going-on vibe. He was almost…smug. Like he had just figured out a puzzle and couldn’t wait to fit in the last piece.” He exhaled hard. “Not long after, he left the card game. With money on the table. He just got up and left.”
My mind raced. Orson never left when there was money on the table. He played to win—always. “Any ideas? Could one of the teams have moved too fast?”
“No. This was personal. I could feel it.”
“What do we do?”
“Is everything set? She’ll go?”
“Yes.”
“I want to move it ahead. I can change everything to first thing in the morning. I don’t want to wait until later in the day.”
“You really think we need to do that?”
“Everything in me is screaming that something major has changed. I don’t know if Orson suspects something is about to happen or what, but we can move faster than he can.
I can block his moves for a short while.
We might not get a hundred percent, but we can get most of it.
He’ll still see his empire is gone before you take him down. ”
I nodded. “Do it.”
“We need to stay close.”
“I know.”
“Your head is clear? You in this?”
“One hundred percent.”
“Okay. Let’s take him down.”
O rson wasn’t at breakfast. Neither was Rex.
His office door remained shut, with no response to my knocks.
I had heard lots of commotion in the early hours, but when I investigated, I found nothing.
The guards told me it was some good-humored scuffling between them.
I didn’t buy it for a second. Sean was pale, barely moving from his laptop, his fingers at times a blur as he typed.
We had arrived back at the compound separately, but no one had even batted an eye, which made me suspicious.
Orson had always made a big deal about when we came and went.
Why the sudden change? It was as if he didn’t care.
Was Sean right? Did Orson know his empire was about to crumble?
Was he planning on escaping? Was he locked in his office, trying to skim as much as he could before fleeing?
I wanted to break down the door and stop him, but Sean only shook his head, silently telling me to stay where I was and remain calm.
The only comfort I had was he told me Frank planned on having Skylar with him by dawn, so I knew by now she’d be safely on her way to Julia.
I’d see her in a few weeks—faster, if at all possible.
I wanted to check and make sure she was okay, but until this was over and the place was crawling with law enforcement, we were maintaining silence.
I did wonder if Skylar would give Frank a hard time. I rather hoped she would.
A heavy knock at the door startled me, and I glanced at Sean, who nodded, closing his laptop and sliding it under the sofa cushion. I yanked open the door, glaring at Rex. “What?”
“Orson wants to see you.”
“Where has he been all morning? I went to see him, and he didn’t answer.”
“He was taking care of a personal matter. But he’s back and wants to see you now.”
I shrugged, feigning nonchalance, and grabbed my jacket, slipping it on. “Come on, Carlo.”
Rex shook his head. “He wants you alone.”
Small shards of ice began to trickle down my spine, tiny fragments of sharp spikes driving into my body. I felt a flicker of fear at the dead look on Rex’s face, and my gut told me the same thing Sean’s had—something was up.
“I gotta piss. I’ll be right there.”
“I’ll wait.”
The fear kicked up another notch.
“Whatever.”
I left him standing in the door and walked past Sean, who barely moved his head, but his gaze was intense. “Did that shipment arrive?” I asked quietly. “I need to know the merchandise is safe.”
“I’ll see if it’s been updated.”
“Do that.”
In the bathroom, I grabbed my gun from under the sink and slipped it in the back of my pants.
Another smaller one went in my ankle holster and I tucked my knife under my belt.
I didn’t know if I was walking into a trap, but I was going to be ready.
I quickly added my earpiece and, after a deep breath, exited the bathroom.
Rex hadn’t moved, his large frame filling the door. Sean’s forehead was furrowed.
“Problem?”
“Nothing I can’t handle. A small glitch with the tracking.”
I frowned. “Anything else?”
“Nope. The rest is working.”
“See you in a few.”
He glanced up at me, his jaw tight, our eyes holding a silent conversation. We both knew there was a situation brewing—we simply didn’t know what.
“In a few.”
I knew he’d follow.
I joined Rex, trailing slightly behind him. “I do know the way. No need for an escort.”
“Orson asked me to bring you. What Orson wants, I do,” he muttered in his low, cement-thick voice.
“Don’t we all,” I returned.
He didn’t reply, not that I expected him to. He rarely spoke unless he had to.
We passed Larry, who only nodded and kept going in the direction we’d come from. The hair on the back of my neck rose at the satisfied smirk I’d seen on his face.
“Where is Larry going?” I asked, knowing Sean could hear me. “Why is he heading toward my room?”
“No idea. Maybe he’s going elsewhere. There’re lots of rooms here. Besides, it’s not your house.”
He swung open the office door, stepping back and indicating for me to enter. Sean’s voice was quiet in my ear. “Skylar’s phone was off. It’s on now, so I’ll get her location. Stay sharp—and keep this open. I want to hear what’s going on.”
I sighed heavily so he’d know I heard him.
Orson looked up from his desk. It was piled high with papers, and he held a stack in his hand.
“Anthony. Feeling better this morning, are we? Did you blow off enough steam you can get your head back in the fucking game now?”
“I don’t think my head was out of the game, Orson.” I sat down without being invited, knowing it would piss him off. “I don’t like the tone either. It was your idea for me to go and blow off steam, remember?”
“Ah, yes. Well, we all have our ways of dealing with stress, don’t we?”
I stared at him. Dealing with stress?
“When the hell did you become Dr. Phil?”
He grinned—a malevolent, twisted grin. One so devoid of emotion, the shards in my blood became thicker, small stabs of anxiety running through my entire body.
“What did you want to see me for, Orson?”
“I have something I want to show you, Anthony.”
“Oh?”
He leaned forward. “I have a new trophy.”
I wanted to shut my eyes at the glee in his voice. Another victim, another memory of his power he would add to his collection. I met his gaze, hoping mine was as detached as his.
“What does this have to do with me?”
“You don’t understand. It’s the greatest trophy of them all. It surpasses everything I’ve ever collected before.”
I opened my mouth to tell him I didn’t give a fuck, when Sean’s voice crackled in my ear, fear and anger almost distorting it.
“ Cian ! Fuck! Something… fuck … Cian, Skylar is here! She’s in the fucking compound!”
I heard another shout, then he began to curse, and he cut off.
My gaze snapped to Orson, who smiled. A smile so full of evil and hate, a shudder ran down my spine—his eyes, cold and devoid of any emotion other than hatred.
The sense of fear that had been building in my stomach spontaneously burst into an inferno so hot, I knew the only thing it would leave behind was a trail of ash.
He had her.
I didn’t know how, but Orson had Skylar.
And I had to get her back—or die trying.