37. Fiona
Chapter Thirty-Seven
FIONA
I sit on the cold floor with my knees pulled to my chest, the concrete pressing against my back and the fluorescent lights above buzzing incessantly.
Every slam of a door, every shouted command from the hall outside makes my stomach flip as if it’s trying to escape through my throat.
The sterile walls offer no comfort, no sense of safety, just a harsh reminder that I’m trapped.
My fingers dig into my knees, clenching and unclenching as I try to slow my racing thoughts.
I don’t have my phone, and the lack of any way to contact Cormac gnaws at me.
I can’t tell how much time has passed. Minutes? Hours? It feels like an eternity.
The sound of shouting and the metallic clang of doors slamming are relentless, and somewhere among all of it is Cormac.
I glance at the guard stationed near the door.
He’s leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, completely unmoved by the chaos outside. His indifference is infuriating.
“What’s happening?” I demand, my voice cracking. “Where’s Cormac?”
“Everyone’s on lockdown. You need to stay here and wait it out.” He keeps his tone flat, as if that explains everything.
“Wait it out? There’s a riot going on out there! I need to know if Cormac is okay!”
He shrugs, like my panic is just another background noise he can drown out.
“Trust me, it’s safer for you to be here.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a phone.
I'm on my feet before I can even register it.
“Can I please make a call?” My voice is trembling.
He frowns, glancing down at his phone. “Visitors don’t make calls inside the prison.”
I step closer, letting the desperation I feel bleed into my words. “Look, if something happens to Cormac and you could have prevented it by letting me make a single phone call, your life is over. Do you understand me?”
For the first time, the guard hesitates. There’s a flicker of recognition in his eyes, a momentary acknowledgment that I mean business.
“Fine. One call. But make it quick.”
I snatch up the phone, though my hands are shaking so badly I almost drop it.
My fingers fumble over the numbers, and when the call connects, and Brennan’s voice comes through the line, I choke on a sob of relief.
“Did he talk?” Brennan asks, concern already threading through his tone.
“Brennan, t-there’s been a riot.”
He’s quiet for a beat. “I’m sorry, what?”
“A riot. Cormac… he’s gone.” My voice cracks, and my hands tremble as I clutch the phone.
“Fiona, slow down. Tell me exactly what happened.”
I take a shaky breath, my chest rising and falling too fast.
“I-I was with him. We were on our way to meet Freddy when the alarm went off. The inmates started rioting, and I… Oh God, I don’t know what happened. We were separated—”
“Fiona, focus. Where are you now?”
“In a secure room, but I’m not allowed to leave. Brennan, I’m so scared that something has happened to him—” My voice breaks entirely, and I clamp a hand over my mouth as tears sting my eyes.
“I’m on my way. Just hold tight. He’s going to be fine.”
I shake my head. “You don’t know that.”
“I do because I know my brother. Whoever’s phone this is, I need you to keep hold of it, okay? In case I need to contact you again.”
I nod, even as my hands continue to shake.
“Please, hurry—”
Suddenly, the door clicks open, and my heart lurches so violently I feel like it might burst.
The door swings open, and Cormac steps in.
He’s covered in blood, and there’s a nasty bruise blooming along his cheekbones, but he’s alive.
My knees almost give out.
I throw myself at him. “Cormac! Oh, my God, are you okay?”
He catches me and hugs me tightly, voice hoarse but steady. “I’m fine. It’s over. We’re okay.”
I pull back just enough to look at him, my hands brushing across a split lip and a cut on his forehead.
My chest tightens at the sight of his injuries. Every scrape, every bruise, is a reminder of what he’s faced while I was powerless to help.
“Fiona? Fiona!”
Cormac frowns at the sound of his brother's voice coming through the phone.
“Is that Brennan?”
“Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?”
In my relief at seeing Cormac alive and breathing, I had momentarily forgotten that Brennan was on the phone.
I hand the phone to Cormac. “Here.”
“Brennan?”
I keep my hands on Cormac’s chest as he talks to his brother, needing to feel the warmth of his body beneath my fingertips.
“Everything is fine, Brennan,” Cormac says calmly, though the bruises speak otherwise. “No need to worry. We’re heading back now.”
I exhale shakily, letting a little of the tension slip, though my mind continues to spin.
Who did this to him? Was it Freddy? Or worse, did Lorcan get wind that we were coming here and decide to call in a favor?
The questions seem endless, but honestly, they can wait. Right now, all that matters is that Cormac is alive.
After he ends the call, Cormac takes my face in his hands and moves to rest his forehead against mine.
I press a hand to his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breathing.
“I’m just… I’m so glad you’re alive.” The raw words spill out of me.
He strokes my cheek. “I’m glad too. Now let’s get out of here.”
When we finally step through the front door, the house is initially quiet.
Cormac takes my hand and leads me through to the living room, where we find all of his brothers waiting for us.
At the sight of Cormac’s bloodied and bruised face, Brennan is on his feet, looking like he wants to explode.
“I knew I should have gone with you. I shouldn’t have listened. I—” His words stumble over themselves as he catches his breath. “Fuck, I just… I shouldn’t have let you do this alone.”
“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” Cormac says.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
Ronan steps forward. His eyes flick over his brother’s face, and I watch his gaze harden as he takes inventory of every wound. “Cormac, what happened?”
“We’ll talk tomorrow. Right now, I want to take a shower.”
“Cormac—”
“Not tonight,” Cormac says firmly.
Brennan opens his mouth again, then hesitates.
Kieran’s eyes flicker toward Ronan, silently asking if they should push further, but Ronan shakes his head.
“First thing in the morning,” Ronan says.
I reach out to squeeze Cormac’s arm gently, wanting to give him reassurance as well as myself.
“Where’s Scout?” he asks.
“He’s in the movie room with the girls,” Kieran replies.
“Good. I need him occupied. I don’t want him to see me like this.”
My chest tightens as I catch a flicker of regret in his eyes. Surely, he doesn’t blame himself for what happened?
“I’ll get some ice for your cheek,” I offer because I don’t know what else to do.
“Thanks.” He offers me a tired smile.
Then, without another word, he heads out of the room.
I watch him go, and only when Ronan exhales sharply do I turn around.
“Fiona… What happened?”
I turn to face him. “I don’t even know. One minute, we were walking to a meeting room, and the next, all hell breaks loose.”
Kieran frowns. “You didn’t see who started it?”
I shake my head. “It happened so fast. I tried to stay with Cormac, but I got dragged away. Next thing I know, I’m locked in a room. And when Cormac comes back, he looks like… Well, like that.”
My throat thickens with tears as I think of how much pain he must have been in.
“This isn’t your fault,” Ronan says firmly.
“I know,” I choke. “But it seems a little too convenient that the moment we go looking for answers, a riot breaks out.”
Ronan and Kieran share a look, but I don’t hang around long enough to hear their theories. Right now, I want to take care of Cormac.
I leave the brothers to talk among themselves, the soft murmurings of their conversation following me to the kitchen, where I grab an ice pack, a bottle of water, and some painkillers before heading upstairs.
The door to the bathroom is ajar, filling the bedroom with steam.
I consider giving Cormac some privacy, but my own selfishness takes over, and I decide to strip out of my clothes to join him.
When I step inside, the warm, steamy air washes over me, carrying with it the faint tang of blood.
He keeps his back to me at first, but as I run my hands over his shoulders, I feel him visibly relax, though it’s clear the aftermath of the riot is still raw in every inch of his body.
“I love you.” I lean in to kiss between his shoulder blades.
I reach for the soap and lather it between my hands before running it over his skin, washing away the remnants of blood that still cling to him.
He hangs his head, watching as the water slowly turns clear.
“Turn around.”
He does as I ask, and when I look up at his bruised face, my heart cracks open in my chest.
“Cormac,” I whisper, reaching up to gently run my fingers over his bruised cheek.
“It looks worse than it is,” he mutters.
I know he’s only saying that to make me feel better. There’s no way he isn’t in pain, looking at the state of the bruises on his ribs.
I wish I could take it all away. I wish I could go back in time and tell Cormac to take me home instead of walking through the doors to the prison. But I can’t.
All I can do is try to make him feel better right now.
“I love you,” I say again as I gently push his wet hair out of his eyes.
“I love you too.”
As I clean his skin, I follow behind with my mouth, kissing every inch until I feel every one of his muscles relax.
“I love you,” I whisper over and over as I kiss the bruises on his ribs and the cuts on his cheeks.
Only when every inch of him is clean do I finally press my lips to his. “I love you.”
His hands find my waist, and he pulls me against him.
“I love you,” he whispers before claiming my mouth.
“Cormac,” I gasp when I feel him hard against me.
“I can’t help it. There’s a naked woman in my shower.”
“I’m meant to be taking care of you, not getting you worked up.”
“Believe me, just holding you is taking care of me.”
His eyes flutter closed as he moves to rest his forehead against mine. For a moment, I listen to him breathe as the hot water cascades over our bodies, washing away the nightmare of the past few hours.