Chapter 7
LIAM
My da used to say I had a nose like a bloodhound. No matter where I was, I could always smell Mam’s baking. I’d almost trip over my feet racing to the house to gorge myself on whatever delicious treat she’d decided to make that day.
Back then it was a benefit, a way to get my fill before my brothers showed up.
Now, sitting on Patrick’s private jet with Rowan across the aisle, it’s a curse.
Every move she makes sends a wave of her scent shooting up my nose.
She still wears the same perfume, still washes with the same soap, but beneath the familiar scents, it’s all her.
I called her mine once.
She’s still mine, but the rules have changed.
Back then, the “mine” I’d mumble when I was inside her came from a place of love. Now, it’s from something darker. For half a decade, I carried a wound she put in me, but the tables have turned at last. The suffering’s hers now. And she will suffer. You can be sure of it.
Goddamn, though, her scent still makes me hard. Clean, warm, like freshly ground cinnamon, and I hate it. I hate that she still has that power over me. I used to crave that smell because it didn’t only remind me of Rowan, but of Mam’s kitchen, too.
Now it reminds me of betrayal, but my dick isn’t listening. It’s often said that men’s brains and their dicks are not connected, and I’m living proof.
I shift in my seat, but all that does is add more friction.
The seat belt sign illuminates. I lock mine in place. Rowan hasn’t moved since I pointed at that seat ten minutes ago. She’s staring out the window, her back rigid, but her hands give her away. She’s got them clasped in her lap, but there’s a slight waver, a tremble she’s doing her best to hide.
She’s scared.
Good. She fucking should be scared.
“Fasten your seat belt.”
She turns slowly in my direction. Our eyes lock.
There’s a hint of defiance in hers, a whisper of the old “Rebel” because that’s exactly what she was.
A live wire, a risk taker, a woman who’d leap off a cliff into the freezing waters below without knowing how deep it was.
My Rowan had embraced life with gusto, as though each day was her last.
I challenge her with my gaze. Go on. Defy me.
Her shoulders drop, and she turns her attention to the seat belt, snapping both halves together. How disappointing. I’d relish her disobedience, a chance to put her in her place and show her how her life will be now.
For how long, I’m not sure. Until I feel as though I’ve got the revenge I’m owed, I guess. Could be years.
Time is the one thing I have on my side, and the hatred borne from her betrayal still burns bright. I’ve kept it alive for five years while I didn’t know where she was. It’s different now. She’s here, with me, and I can keep the flames alight for decades.
I never discovered why she’d sold me out, what I did to make her hate me so much that I almost died because of it.
Now’s my chance to find out. And she will tell me eventually.
No matter how long it takes. It doesn’t matter how many days, weeks, or even months she keeps up this bullshit innocent charade, she’ll tell me eventually.
Since keeping her at the warehouse didn’t work, maybe a little forced proximity will get me faster results.
Drive Rebel out into the open by having her look at what she did every fucking day.
She always did have a conscience. In the end, she won’t be able to help herself.
And once I know the truth, then I can decide what to do with her.
Killing her is still very much on the table.
An hour later, the plane touches down at a private airfield west of Dublin. The border control here is on the payroll and won’t check any papers, which is just as well considering our extra passenger is missing her passport.
“Home sweet home.” I curl my lip on one side and unbuckle my seat belt. “Let’s go.”
Once again, she obediently does as I ask in silence. As she stands, her arm brushes mine. She jerks away as though my touch is poisonous. I grip her biceps and propel her forward. My car idles at the bottom of the steps, and my driver opens the rear door.
“Thanks, Noah.” I shove her inside, and I’m not gentle about it, then follow. Noah slams the door closed and gets in the driver’s side. “Good trip, boss?”
I smirk at Rowan. “A surprising one, but yes, good I think.” I wink. “Don’t you agree, Rowan?”
A nerve flickers in her cheek, but instead of answering, she reverts to her favorite hobby: staring out of the window.
I take out my phone and scan through my messages, but the car is even more close-quartered than the plane, and all my senses feel like they’ve been supercharged.
The smell of her has invaded every part of me.
My ears pick up the tiny hitch in her breath each time she fills her lungs with oxygen.
The hair on my arm is still standing on end from where she brushed against me, and my palm tingles from feeling her muscles flex beneath my grip.
This woman was once my life, a secret I kept from my brothers because I didn’t want even a second of her attention on anyone but me.
And her betrayal and my close brush with death were even more of a reason to keep her existence from them.
My weakness for her made me an easy target.
I won’t make the same mistake again, no matter how much my body aches for her.
Mind over matter. I’m no longer that naive idiot drowning in his first love.
I’m a grown man, shaped by my experiences, both good and bad.
Now I’ll have no choice but to tell them everything. I’m not sure how I feel about that, but whatever it costs me, getting the truth from Rowan and exacting the revenge I’m owed will be worth it.
Our guardsman opens the gates, and Noah drives up to the front of the house. I get out and scoot round the back of the car to open Rowan’s door. She’s still got her seat belt fastened, and her eyes are locked dead ahead as though the headrest is the most fascinating thing she’s ever seen.
Sighing, I reach inside and unclasp her belt. “Either get out on your own, or I will drag you out and toss you over my shoulder. Your choice.”
My threat does the trick. She gets out so fast she almost falls over her feet.
I grip her elbow and steer her into the house.
Voices bleed down the hallway from the kitchen.
Taking a deep breath, I walk in that direction.
My elder brother, Patrick, is sitting at the table with his wife, Sorcha, on his left-hand side.
My younger brother, Darragh, is sitting opposite them, stuffing chocolate biscuits into his mouth.
Our housekeeper, Maeve, is at the stove cooking something that smells almost as good as Rowan.
“Everyone, this is Rowan. Our new house guest.”
Four pairs of eyes turn to look at us. Patrick’s eyebrows rise a few millimeters in a silent question.
“It’s Erin,” Rowan whispers, eyes on the freshly mopped kitchen floor. “My name is Erin.”
“She’s lying,” I say. “Don’t know why yet, but I’m going to find out. Isn’t that right, Rowan?”
Sorcha frowns. “Liam, what’s going on?”
“Your name is Liam?”
I ignore Rowan’s fake question and her fake wide eyes and her fake shaky voice and address Sorcha.
“I told you. We have a new house guest. She’s a reluctant one, a bit like you were, Sorcha, so we’ll need to put Titan on red alert for escape attempts.
” I put my mouth right next to Rowan’s ear.
“Titan’s our guard dog. Trained to kill. Think about that before you act.”
Rowan’s pupils dilate, fear swimming in dazzling blue eyes that used to look at me as though I solved world hunger before breakfast.
“Wait.” Sorcha rises from the table. “Have you…? Is this woman here willingly?”
“He took me,” Rowan whispers. “I don’t even know who he is. Please, help me.”
I huff a laugh that sounds more like a growl. “She’s a fucking liar. She knows exactly who I am.” I tighten my grip on her elbow. “This amnesia play won’t work with me, Rebel.”
“Let me get this straight.” Sorcha rubs her forehead. “Are you telling me we’re in the kidnapping business now?”
Patrick chuckles. “Mo mhuirnín, we’ve always been in the kidnapping business when it suits our needs.”
Rowan visibly blanches, and she’d have fallen if I didn’t have such a tight hold on her.
Darragh kicks out the chair next to his. “Rowan, Erin, Rebel, whatever your name is, sit down before you fall down. Would you like a cup of tea?”
I scowl, conscious enough to recognize the emotion flaring inside me as jealousy. Those immature feelings of hating the idea of sharing her are still alive and well it seems.
“No. She doesn’t want a fucking cup of tea.”
Darragh ignores me, settling his gaze on Rowan. “Do you want a cup of tea, sweetheart?”
His use of a term of endearment makes me see red. I let go of her and grab the front of his t-shirt, hauling him to his feet. “Don’t fucking call her that. Don’t fucking call her anything. If you want to keep breathing, don’t talk to her, touch her, look at her.”
Heaving a heavy sigh, Patrick gets to his feet and separates us. “Calm the fuck down, you eejit, or I’ll put you on your arse.” He glances past me at Rowan. “Sit down.”
Rowan obeys Patrick’s commanding tone, one that most people find hard to resist.
“And you. Sit over there next to Sorcha.”
I’m less affected by my brother’s demands, but I sit where he tells me anyway. Darragh pours two mugs, passing one to Rowan and the other to me. She wraps trembling hands around the mug, but she doesn’t drink it. Probably thinks it’s poisoned.
Ah, if only I was benevolent enough to offer her such an easy escape route. My plans are still forming, but unfortunately for her, whatever shape they take, I won’t take it easy on her. She doesn’t deserve compassion, and she won’t get any from me.
“Sorcha,” Patrick says when enough time to make things uncomfortable passes and no one speaks. “Why don’t you show our guest to your original bedroom while Liam fills me in on what the fuck is going on?”
Sorcha’s eyebrows inch up. “Is that really necessary? After all, Titan is prowling around somewhere, and the grounds are full of guards. If anyone knows how hard it is to escape Mahoney Manor, it’s me.”
A flash of intrigue crosses Rowan’s face. Ah, she thinks Sorcha is an ally. She’ll soon discover that Sorcha’s loyalty lies with Patrick, so all I have to do is get my brother onside, and Rowan’s ally will disappear as fast as she did five years ago.
“For now,” Patrick says.
Sorcha nods and the two women disappear into the hallway. I wait until the sounds of their footsteps on the stairs fade, then sprawl my legs in front of me, rest my folded hands on my stomach, and face my brothers.
“Well,” Patrick prompts when I don’t say anything. “Explain.”
“Her name is Rowan Byrne, whatever the fuck different she tells you. And she’s responsible for this.” I point to the gnarly scar running down the left-hand side of my face.
“How?” Darragh asks.
“She set me up. That night I thought I was meeting her but, instead, I almost met the Grim Reaper.”
Patrick frowns. “But why? And how come we’re only hearing about her now?”
“Because I chose to keep my relationship with her to myself. And as for why she did what she did? I don’t fucking know. That’s the reason she’s here. She owes me an explanation and five years of suffering. I intend to get both from her.”
“A relationship? Are you telling me you were fucking this girl?”
“No. I’m telling you I was in love with her. And she fucked me over.”
Patrick’s head snaps back. “In love? But… I’ve never seen this woman before in my life.”
“I’m aware.”
“You kept her a secret from us? Your family? Why?”
“Because she was fucking mine!” I roar. “I wanted her all to myself. I didn’t want to share her with you, with Darragh, with my friends. With anyone. I was head over heels for her, blinded by stupidity, and she took me for a fool.” I laugh bitterly. “Well I paid the fucking price for it, didn’t I?”
“Christ.” A frown flickers over Patrick’s face. “How did you find her?”
“I didn’t. Oh believe me, I’ve searched for her over the years, but no luck.
I went for a drink with Kai after dealing with that fucking scum in London, and she was working behind the bar.
She’s kept up this entire Erin act for the past two days, but I’m hardly likely to forget the face of a woman I once loved and who almost got me killed. ”
“Where have you been with her for the past two days?” Darragh asks.
“Took her to one of our warehouses in London. Tried to break her. Didn’t work. So now I’m trying a different tactic.”
“So that’s why you messaged saying business was taking a little longer than planned.” Patrick sighs as if he’s dealing with a disobedient child. “Next time, I want the full story, not the version you decide to cleanse for me.”
I nod.
“And are you sure she was the one behind your attack?” Darragh queries.
“Oh, I’m fucking positive. She called that night crying and saying she was hurt.
I didn’t think, I just acted. That’s when those men jumped me, right in the place she told me she was.
Then afterward, she wrote to me saying she got an offer she couldn’t refuse.
That she never loved me and not to bother looking for her because I’d never find her.
” Another bitter laugh spills out of me.
“Too fucking bad for her that Karma just did her dirty.”
“What are you going to do about it?” Patrick asks.
“Make her tell me the truth.”
“And then?” he adds.
I run a hand over my face. “I don’t know.”
“Could you kill a woman you once loved?”
I look at Patrick and shrug. This is the part I haven’t figured out yet, but I don’t let on to him. “Yeah. I reckon I can.”