Chapter 31
Sorcha
My legs pump, a relentless, burning rhythm against the damp earth.
The world narrows to the path in front of me, the pounding of my heart in my ears, the ragged tear of my breath.
I push past the pain, past the point where my lungs scream for mercy.
I am pure will, pure fire. I cross the finish line—an ancient, gnarled oak—and don’t stop, stumbling forward a few more steps before collapsing onto my hands and knees, head bowed, sucking in desperate, greedy gulps of air.
I roll onto my back, every muscle in my body singing a song of agony and triumph. Cillian and Axl stop a few feet away, barely winded, the bastards.
Ciar looms into view, his face a thundercloud of pride and frustration. He gives a single, sharp nod. It’s all I need.
“You’ll do,” Cillian says, and from him, it’s a fucking medal.
I push myself up, my legs trembling but holding. “I’ll do better than you,” I gasp, a grin splitting my face. “Just watch me.”
Axl throws an arm around my shoulders, his body solid and warm against mine. “Come on, my lady. Time for a shower. You’ve earned it.”
I lean into him, but then a flash of lights catches my attention.
No siren, no big flashy arrival with screaming tyres and armed forces spilling out. Just a simple flicker on the edge of the campus.
“Uh-oh,” Axl says, seeing it as well.
“Maybe not,” I say, staring at the obviously undercover Range Rover parked up. “Be right back.”
“Whoa, there,” Ciar says, snatching my wrist. “Not a chance in hell.”
“Look,” I say, stopping to stare up at him. “If they were going to arrest me, they’d have me flat on my face and cuffed by now. This is a conversation.”
He sees the logic. He knows the logic, but it goes against every protective instinct he has to trust it.
His fingers tighten for a fraction of a second before he lets go, his jaw a hard, unforgiving line.
He doesn’t like it, but he’s letting me take the lead.
I don’t look back as I walk across the damp grass, my muscles still screaming in protest. I can feel their eyes on me, three predators watching their queen walk into a potential trap.
The passenger door opens when I get closer, and a man, maybe in his early forties, leans over and says, “Get in.”
I look over my shoulder at my guys. They will go ballistic.
“I’m not here to arrest you,” the man says with a sharp smirk.
“There’s arrest and then there’s put down,” I reply.
“Not doing that either. Just talk.”
I weigh the options. My guys are fifty feet away, coiled springs ready to unleash hell. This guy is calm, almost bored. It’s not an ambush. It’s an interview.
I slide onto the cool leather and close the door with a heavy, soundproof thud that cuts off the outside world. Ciar’s face is a mask of thunder as he takes a step forward. I hold my hand up and shake my head.
The man in the passenger seat twists to face me. He’s dressed in an OCU uniform of a black tee and combat pants. It makes my palms sweat. Did I just make the biggest mistake of my life?
“I’m impressed, Miss Gannon, or do you go by Lady Rhodes now?”
“Miss Gannon is fine,” I mutter. “Why?”
“You have come in here and made a right old mess of the order.”
“Are you part of it?”
He snorts. “You don’t pull any punches, do you?”
“I don’t have the patience to sit here and trade flatteries with you, whatever your name is.”
“Liam O’ Donnell.”
“Well, Liam O’Donnell. Are you part of the old order?”
He holds my gaze, his eyes a sharp, assessing grey. There’s a long beat of silence, and I can practically feel the tension coming from my guys outside. I imagine Ciar’s hand is already on his weapon.
“I’m part of the new order,” Liam says finally. “Your order.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
He smiles. It’s a little bit sinister and chills my already cold skin.
“You will find, Miss Gannon, that it is good to have strategically placed… friends.”
“I see. And who was your friend before?”
“The Mark was and still is my very best friend.”
The Mark?
I frown. “Who?” I ask bluntly because I don’t have time for guessing games.
“You know him as dad-in-law.”
Oh. The Marq, not Mark.
“And how much is this friendship going to cost me?” I ask wryly, knowing a bribe when I see one. But it’s a necessary evil. This man will keep the wolves from my door for an exorbitant fee that I will willingly pay because I have no choice.
He holds up a slip of paper between his index and middle fingers.
I suppress the urge to roll my eyes and take it. I open the folded paper and stare at a sum I have no idea how to pay. “A year?” I ask hopefully.
He snorts. “A month, girlie.”
“Or what?” I say, carefully folding the paper and holding it the same way he did.
He ignores it. “It’s not a case of or what,” he says. “It’s a case of I work for you and I am very good at my job.”
“Doing what?”
“Whatever it takes to keep your nose clean.”
I stare at him, my mind ticking over. The OCU could make my life hell if they wanted to. Having someone on the inside, someone who knows how to make problems disappear, is worth every fucking euro.
“And if I say no?” I ask, even though I already know I won’t.
“Then you’re on your own, Miss Gannon, and I don’t think you want that. Not with the body count you’ve racked up since you arrived here.”
He’s right. I fucking hate that he’s right.
I slip the paper into my sports bra. “Fine. You’ve got yourself a deal, O’Donnell.”
“Smart girl,” he says, and there’s genuine approval in his voice. “I’ll be in touch with my payment details. For now, consider yourself under my protection.”
“What does that mean, exactly?”
“It means the bodies in the quad? Self-defence. The explosion at the townhouse? Gas leak, such a tragic accident. Your husband’s abduction?
Never happened. MacMahon’s hospital records, gone.
James Ahearne, who knows where he went? You see, Miss Gannon?
I clean up your messes. That is what you’re paying me for. ”
I nod slowly, processing this. “And what do you get out of it, besides the money?”
“Power, Miss Gannon. It’s always about power. Bye now.”
I open the car door, dismissed. Slamming it shut, I step back as O’Donnell drives away from the kerb at a leisurely pace, a richer man than he was a few minutes ago.
I turn to face my guys. Ciar looks like he’s about two seconds away from putting a bullet through O’Donnell’s back windscreen, consequences be damned.
Axl’s casual mask has slipped, his green eyes hard and calculating.
Cillian is a statue, but I can see the muscle ticking in his jaw.
I walk towards them, my legs still trembling from the run, my mind spinning with this new development. A corrupt OCU officer on my payroll. It’s not how I imagined my first day as a property owner would go, but then again, nothing about my life has gone to plan since I stepped foot on this campus.
“What the fuck was that?” Ciar demands the second I’m in earshot, his voice a low, dangerous growl.
“That was me making a strategic alliance,” I say, keeping my voice steady even though my heart is hammering against my ribs. “His name is Liam O’Donnell. He’s OCU, and he’s now on our payroll.”
“How much?” Axl asks, cutting straight to the practical.
I pull the paper from my sports bra and hand it to him. His eyebrows shoot up. “Wow. I hope he’s worth it.”
“So far, he appears to be. All the shit that’s hit the fan since I arrived here has been swept under the rug. He’s a friend of your dad’s.”
“Okay, that makes sense why he came here looking for you and makes me trust him more,” Axl murmurs. “Forward me his payment details.”
I shake my head. “No, I will pay it.”
“With what? Sex?” he asks with a smile.
With a heavy sigh, I pull the note Arthur gave me from my other pocket and hand it to him.
His eyes scan it, then widen fractionally. “Fuck.”
“What?” Ciar snatches it from him, his blue eyes narrowing as he reads.
“My mother.” The woman who couldn’t be arsed to feed me properly or keep her boyfriends’ hands off me paid for me to come here.
“How?” Ciar asks, but his voice trails off as it hits him in the face.
There is only one way how. Oisin fucking Gannon gave her a payoff, and she didn’t bother to inform me or spend any of the money on me, until now.
“His will?” Axl asks, knowing I’m struggling with trying to wrap my head around this.
“Maybe,” I clip out. “Would explain why we lived in poverty for years. If she had had this all along, I don’t think she would have saved it. She’d have flaunted it and pissed it away on booze and drugs.”
“Why now?” Cillian asks.
I snatch the piece of paper from him and shove it back in my bra. “Only one way to find out, right?”