7. Lara
7
LARA
I look over at the man who has come into the bathroom, holding something out to me.
It’s just another sandwich, roast beef this time, but my mouth waters, and I shove it into my mouth quickly, uncaring that my hands are likely dirty.
I’m so hungry my stomach clenches in protest as it goes down my throat.
Rory sits down next to me and wets a piece of gauze with some type of solution, pressing it to my thigh.
I yelp and kick at him, but he grabs onto my ankle to stop me.
“I know it hurts.” There’s actual pity in his voice. “We have to disinfect it.”
Who the hell is this guy?
“What are you, one of Murphy’s medics?”
He snorts. “I’m his son.”
No way.
“Why are you helping me?” My mouth is still full of the last of my sandwich.
My stomach has finally stopped revolting, and I feel less like I’m going to pass out.
He dabs a fresh piece of gauze on my eyebrow, and I wince at the sting.
“I’m not helping you. I’m fixing what someone else broke.”
“He didn’t break me.” My voice trembles. “And you won’t, either.”
He gives me a small smile.
In any other situation, I would find him handsome. Longish, dark hair swept back from his face. Soulful, blue eyes, strong jaw, clean-shaven.
“Don’t plan on it, honey.”
“Don’t call me honey.”
He nods. “Fair enough.”
“Why are you helping me?”
“I already told you. Just because you have information I need doesn’t mean you deserve to be hurt.” He looks at me seriously. “No one is going to hurt you here again. I promise you that.”
I almost believe him. He sounds so earnest.
I lick my lips, watching him. “Can I have another sandwich?”
“Of course.” He leaves the room, bringing it back to me.
This one’s ham, but I wouldn’t care if it was rat meat, I’m starving.
I eat this one slower, biting it in small pieces so that my stomach doesn’t churn.
I finish the sandwich, swallowing the last piece hard.
I needed his help, as much as I loath to admit it.
I freeze, and the man helping me stiffens as a shadow looms over the bathroom door, and I turn my head slightly.
It’s Oscar, not Scott.
I let out a relieved breath.
A guy I don’t recognize stands behind him.
My benefactor’s hands never waver on me. “Both of you, get the fuck out of here.”
“Your father asked me to stay,” Oscar says, and my eyes widen as realization finally sinks in.
This is the brother Bree has talked about. Rory.
But just because he’s Bree’s brother doesn't mean that I can trust him.
Even if I grew to love her like a sister, she’s not from the world’s best family, after all.
“I told Scott to stay away,” Oscar announces, almost proudly, like he’s really done something.
“If he comes back here, I’ll kill him,” Rory growls, wrapping a bandage around my thigh.
His touch is light and gentle, not bruising. It’s surprising. Maybe he’s more like his sister than I thought.
“Come on, she’s just a Burke,” Oscar pipes up.
“Shut the fuck up. No one asked you anything. And if you keep looking at her like that, I'll kick you out, too. What would my father say about that?”
Oscar shuts his mouth, and I keep my eyes trained on Rory.
I’m not sure how to trust him, given he’s clearly a part of this.
“Rory—” Oscar starts, and Rory stands, puffing out his chest, making his shoulders broad.
Oscar doesn’t say another word, just leaves the bathroom and goes down the stairs and out the front door. The other man follows.
“I’m sorry about them.”
“You’re sorry?” I move my leg back down to the floor and away from his touch, which is starting to become distracting. “You kidnapped me.”
“ I didn’t do anything.” He sits back down, leaning against the back of the chair. “And we can fix all this, if you’ll just tell me where my sister is.”
“Bree?”
His eyes dart to mine. “Yes, Bree.”
I huff out a breath. “Is that what this is all about? Bree? She’s doing fine.”
“Where?”
I shrug. “Probably back at the mansion. It’s where they usually are.”
“They?”
“Bree and my brother, Declan.”
Rory frowns. “He’s the one who has her?”
“Has her? She’s married to him.”
“Married to him?”
“Yes. I told you, they live together in the mansion.”
“She wouldn’t marry a Burke.” He’s searching my face.
“I can only tell you what I know, Rory.” I pause. An idea coming to me. “Why don’t you call her? Let her tell you herself.”
“I’ve tried before, right after I bought the plane tickets here and as soon as I landed. She hasn’t answered my calls.”
I sigh. “Do it again. She’ll answer now that I’ve been taken.”
Rory just looks at me.
I nod. “Go ahead. I’m not lying to you. I’m not my father’s puppet. I have no idea what’s going on between him and your da.”
“I was called back because Bree was taken.”
“That was months ago. And things changed. Look, it’s complicated. But he loves her, Rory.”
He stares at me, like he still can’t believe me.
“Please. Just call her.”
“So, you're saying you’re just a pawn in all of this?”
“Yes! She doesn’t want to leave, Rory. She’s... pregnant.”
Rory’s throat bobs.
I don’t know Rory, except for the few things that Bree has said about him. But just because he’s related to her doesn’t mean he’s like her. It doesn’t mean that he’s a good person.
But maybe.. Just maybe... he’ll let me go if he talks to his sister, finds out that she’s okay.
It’s all I can hope for.
Rory pulls his phone out of his back pocket.
“She has a new number. One that my brother gave her. Maybe that’s why she isn’t answering.”
“Do you know it?”
I shake my head. “They took my phone when they kidnapped me.”
“Oscar!” Rory yells, and he comes running into the bathroom.
“What’s up?”
“Give me the girl’s phone.”
“I can’t do that. Niall says?—”
“How many times do I have to tell you that my father isn’t point on this? I am. This is retaliation for my sister, so give me the goddamned phone.”
Rory doesn’t even stand this time but manages to be intimidating enough that Oscar hands it over. He hands it to me, and I unlock it with my fingerprint.
He copies the number from my phone to his and lets it ring.
My heart races.
Please, Bree. Pick up.
Chapter Eight