11. Fiona
Chapter Eleven
FIONA
For the first time in what feels like forever, the Sullivan estate feels almost peaceful. There are no raised voices or frantic footsteps. The only sound is the low hum of mundane life.
I lean against the kitchen counter, cradling a mug of coffee in my hands, letting the heat seep into my skin.
Riley sits at the island still in her pajamas, the dark circles under her eyes telling me it was another rough night with Aubrey, but she never complains. She tucks into her breakfast as she absentmindedly rocks Aubrey in her baby bouncer with her toe.
I almost don’t want to acknowledge the rare sense of calm that I feel as I listen to Riley chatter away, as if doing so will jinx it. So, I settle for enjoying my coffee before Aubrey decides to scream the house down.
But it seems like Ciara might have beaten her to it by the way she bursts into the kitchen like a tornado. “Zoe is coming over!”
I nearly choke on my coffee, staring at her in disbelief. “What? How? Why?”
“Who’s coming over?” Riley asks.
“My new best friend,” Ciara says brightly. “Or rather, Fiona’s best friend. Zoe.”
My heart slams against my ribs as I think of Cormac and the strict rules he’s put in place to punish me.
I’m pretty sure none of them included sitting around and gossiping with my best friend.
“Ciara, you can’t just—”
Ciara climbs onto a stool and immediately reaches for a piece of bacon from Riley’s plate. “She messaged me on Instagram. She said you weren’t answering your phone, and she was starting to think you’d been kidnapped or joined a cult.”
Riley snorts. “Honestly, it’s a fair assumption.”
My stomach drops. “She did?”
“So, I invited her over. I hope that’s okay, I know this is your house, Riles,” Ciara adds, looking sheepish.
Riley shrugs. “She can come over if she’s willing to change a diaper. That’s a non-negotiable.”
“Please be joking,” I say.
“Not even a little. I’m running a dictatorship now, sorry,” she mutters before stuffing a piece of waffle into her mouth.
Despite the tension coiling tight in my chest, a small laugh slips out.
Ciara’s eyes flick to me. “Zoe’s worried. She thinks something’s wrong.”
Something is wrong, but I was hoping to keep Zoe out of it for her own safety.
I press my lips together, a rush of emotion tightening my chest.
“She’s…freaking out,” Ciara continues, suddenly more serious. “About you. So, I told her to come over, basically so you can talk her down from off the ceiling.”
“You just…invited her?”
Ciara shrugs. “Well, yeah. Unless Queen Riley over here objects.”
“I’ve already laid out the ground rules.” Riley holds up her hands. “Oh, and if she wants to empty the diaper pail too, that would be great. Who knew something so small and cute could poop so much?”
“And I’m out.” Ciara wrinkles her nose as she subtly puts back the piece of bacon she was about to steal from Riley’s plate.
Riley laughs, quickly snatching it up and taking a bite. “Knew that would work.”
“Did I do the right thing?” Ciara asks me, hesitantly.
I realize that I haven’t given her the reaction she was hoping for. But how can I not hesitate when I know that if Cormac were to find out, he would lose his shit not just at me but at Ciara too?
My instincts scream at me to keep my walls up and to protect not just Zoe, but everyone, by saying no. But…Zoe has been my safe place for years. If ever there was a time I needed her, it’s now.
I smile. “Of course. I appreciate you doing this for me. Both of you.”
“You’re welcome,” Riley says through a mouthful of waffle.
An hour later, Zoe arrives at the estate like a pastel pink tornado. She barely lets her ancient, rackety car stop moving before she’s climbing out of it and pulling me into a hug so tight it knocks the breath from my lungs. “Oh, Fi. You scared the hell out of me.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, clinging to her, inhaling the sickly sweet scent of her shampoo.
Suddenly, I’m no longer trapped inside a gilded cage, but back in Zoe’s bathroom, painting the inside of her tub pink with dye and scream-singing to Chappell Roan.
Those memories make me hug her even harder, needing to cling to the one thing that still tethers me to my old life where Lorcan isn’t pulling my strings.
I let out a choked sound, which has Zoe pulling back just enough to cup my face, her glassy eyes scanning me like she’s checking for injuries. “Are you okay?”
“I am, I promise.”
“Good.” She drops her hands from my face and takes a step back.
I watch her as she looks around, her eyes flicking from the cameras tucked into the stonework to the men stationed just far enough back to pretend they’re not watching her.
“Jesus. I feel like I should have brought ID, or a lawyer.”
I wince apologetically. “Yeah. Welcome to my life.”
She links her arm through mine. “Is it always like this?”
“Pretty much.”
“And you’re…okay with that?”
I think of locked doors. Of Cormac deciding where I go and who I see. Of the way safety and punishment have blurred together until I can no longer decipher how he truly feels about me.
“I don’t really get a vote.”
Zoe shoots me a look but doesn’t push me for answers. At least, not yet.
I lead her inside the house, cringing at her loud exclamations as she takes in the grandness of the place. When we enter the kitchen, Riley appears from the laundry room, tucking the baby monitor under her arm.
“So, this must be the famous Zoe. Not what you were expecting, huh?” she says with a warm smile that has Zoe blinking.
“Honestly, I was expecting a hell of a lot more leopard print and leather.”
“Oh, my god,” I groan, but Riley snorts.
“Oh, I like her,” she says to me. “She can come again.”
I look around the empty kitchen. “Where’s Ciara?”
“Ooh, yes, I want to meet my new online bestie.” Zoe rubs her hands together.
I scoff. “You’re fickle, you know that?”
Riley smiles. “She was outside, setting up the patio for you, but I think I heard Nico crying, so who knows… Either way, we thought you might want somewhere to talk privately.”
Something in her tone makes me frown.
For a split second, I wonder if Ciara has told her the truth about me or if Riley has simply put the pieces together on her own.
I swallow, suddenly unsure whether she knows more than she’s saying, or if she’s deliberately choosing to avoid the subject.
Either way, the message is clear. When it comes to Riley, I’m not on the outside.
“Make yourself at home. And I apologize in advance for all of the screaming children. Apparently, my calling in life was to run an in-house daycare.” She sighs before padding over to the coffee machine.
As I lead Zoe toward the patio, Riley calls after us. “Elena will bring drinks out! It’s freezing, and I’m not losing anyone to hypothermia today!”
I glance back, looking at Riley through the window.
She’s moving about the kitchen, completely at home in the chaos.
Zoe laughs. “I like her.”
Outside, there is no sign of Ciara, but I can see her touch in the fairy lights that are strung across the covered patio.
The stone floors are warmed from beneath, with more discreet heaters lining the beams overhead so even in the February chill, we can comfortably sit outside in nothing more than a sweater.
Zoe takes it all in as she sinks down onto the couch, sighing as she looks around. “I could get used to this.”
Elena appears out of nowhere, carrying a tray with all sorts of goodies. “I hope it’s all right, but I made you both hot chocolate.”
“It’s more than all right,” Zoe’s face lights up as she takes in the spread of treats. “Do I smell cinnamon?”
Elena winks. “It’s my secret ingredient. You can’t have cocoa without it.”
I smile at her. “Thanks, Elena. You’re the best.”
Zoe looks at me like I’ve betrayed her. “Okay, where do I get myself an Elena?”
“Get kidnapped by an Irish crime family. The perks are inconsistent but worth it.”
She laughs but quickly sobers now that we’re alone.
“So…” She sets down her mug and tucks her feet up underneath her.
“So…” I mumble.
“Want to tell me what’s been going on? Because I can see in your eyes that it’s not been all sunshine and rainbows, even with a real-life Mary Poppins.”
So, I tell her. Not every detail because some things are strictly a need to know, but I do tell her enough. I tell her about Lorcan and using Amber to blackmail me. About the laptop and the file and Cormac finding out.
By the time I’m done, my hot chocolate is cold, and Zoe is speechless for the first time in her life. “How…” she says slowly. “Have you been carrying all of that by yourself?”
I shrug. “I didn’t know how not to.”
Zoe reaches across the couch and takes my hand, squeezing it hard.
“What kind of best friend am I if you went through all of this without me even knowing?”
“The best kind. The kind who would have been in danger if she did know.”
Zoe swallows, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Oh jeez, now you’re going to make me ruin my makeup. I’m going to sue Ciara for not telling me to wear waterproof mascara.”
I huff a laugh.
“In all seriousness, though, Fi, you can’t do that anymore. You can’t keep life-changing secrets like this from me. We’re best friends, till death do us part, remember?”
She has no idea how true that might be.
“I promise.”
We sit in silence for a moment, then she tilts her head.
“And not to bring up Satan himself, but what about Cormac? I mean, the last thing I heard, you were casually banging the guy, but somehow I don’t think secretly working for his murder-loving uncle is going to get you a Valentine’s card.”
“Not exactly…” I sigh. “Look, I know this is going to sound insane—”
“Trust me, I think I’m used to insane.”
“I love him, Zo. And I hate what I did to him. I hate that I hurt him, and I would do anything to change it. But I don’t think he’ll let me.”
Zoe watches me closely. “You think he’s done with you?”
“I think… that some things break in ways you can’t fix.”
“This is all still raw for him. He’s angry and probably terrified. Just…give him time.”
I blink back tears as I look at Zoe. “I don’t think time is on my side.”
“I think you’ve inherited my flair for the dramatics through osmosis,” Zoe teases, trying to lighten the mood.
“Look, I know I don’t know this Cormac guy like, at all, but I do know you, and I know that you are an incredible judge of character. Case in point.” She flicks her pink ponytail and grins. “And I know you would never fall in love with a guy who wasn’t worth fighting for.”
“I hope you’re right,” I mumble.
“I’m always right. Now, how do we get Elena to bring us martinis?”
We talk about lighter things after that, mostly Zoe’s dramatic love life. In those few hours we spend outside, away from all the chaos and noise that is life in the Sullivan house, I laugh more than I have in days. It makes me feel almost normal.
But all too soon, Zoe checks the time, and we realize we’ve been sitting outside for hours, and the sun is on the verge of setting.
“I should go,” she says reluctantly. “You know I hate driving in the city in the dark.”
As I walk Zoe to her car, the sound of the gates opening and the crunch of tires on gravel cuts through the silence.
My spine stiffens at the sight of Cormac stepping out of the car.
He slings his jacket over his shoulder as his eyes scan his surroundings. But the moment his eyes lock on Zoe, he freezes. Surprise flashes across his face first, then suspicion, and then something much, much colder.
Zoe straightens instinctively, clocking his reaction immediately.
“Hi, you must be Cormac, I’m Zoe…”
But Cormac isn’t listening. His eyes are fixed on mine, sharp and assessing.
I can hear his thoughts loud and clear, as if he were shouting through a megaphone.
Having Zoe here wasn’t part of the rules.
He takes a step forward, looking like he’s about to combust with rage.
I go to push Zoe behind me when, all of a sudden, Ciara comes flying out of the house looking slightly panicked.
“Cormac! Just in time! I need your help with something.”
She grabs at his sleeve, pulling him toward the house.
I can see in the hard set of his jaw and the anger in his eyes that he wants to fight her, but thankfully, Ciara doesn’t back down.
“Now. It can’t wait.”
She steers him away before he can say anything, and both Zoe and I exhale.
“He looks like a laugh a minute,” she mutters.
“I told you he’s pissed at me.”
“Well, at least he let himself be dragged away before he exploded in a blind rage, so that’s a win, right?”
I’m not sure it is.
But as I watch Cormac disappear back into the house, I cling to the possibility anyway. Because right now, hope, however fragile, is all I have.