Chapter 25
ROWAN
I can’t settle. My skin’s itchy, like it’s stretched on too tight.
It’s been an hour since we got back from the bar, and I still feel like I’m going to vomit. Liam wanted to play “nice guy” to get the truth, and I played “willing captive” to get out of this fucking room and a better lay of the land.
It’s a trade. A transaction. He got a change of scenery to interrogate me, and I got a chance to see exactly where the gold bars end.
If a chance to escape had come up, would I have taken it?
I’d like to think so… but… that shot of adrenaline that hit when I thought I saw a familiar face…
Could I live like that forever? Free of Brian, of Liam, but always looking over my shoulder?
My hands are shaking, my feet are cold to the bone, and despite it being as close to silence here as you can get, I’ve spent the last sixty minutes straining my ears to hear tires on the gravel outside.
That man. For a split second I thought he was Brian and my past and present were about to collide in the worst possible way. But it wasn’t. Just someone who vaguely resembled him.
God, I’m a mess.
The clock is ticking down toward a check-in that I need to pass, though. The last thing any of us needs right now is Brian taking the head staggers and deciding to come and find me. But without my phone, I’m fucked. I need Sorcha to help me out, and considering we’re strangers… she owes me nothing.
A shiver runs through me. Tucking my knees to my chest, I blow into my trembling hands and rub them together.
How am I supposed to pretend that I’m in England, alone, normal? When I’m not. I may as well be in Australia right now. Might at least be warm there.
A sound breaks the silence.
I suck in a shallow breath and hold it, my heart thrashing against the inside of my ribs with startling speed.
The sound comes again. It’s a scratching noise. Is someone trying to break in?
I sit up, clutching the blanket against my chest, I have nothing to defend myself with here. A frustrated huff comes from the other side of the door, and I should relax, but knowing it’s Titan doesn’t take my adrenaline down much at all.
I let her into the room, and pace, but the more I move, the more excited she gets, thinking it’s a game.
If Sorcha doesn’t give me my phone back in time, I’ll have to make a choice. Either tell Liam the truth and risk him potentially going after the wrong people, or keep lying and protect him, protect everyone.
My stomach churns with every step, threatening to bring up dessert.
I trip over the dog. In a bid to avoid hurting her, I stumble, she helps anyway, and I hit the floor with a thud.
Shit. He’ll think I’m trying to escape. It’s what I would think if I were him and the kidnapping victim goes bump in the night.
He’s going to explode into the room and yell about how I can’t escape, blah blah fucking blah.
So, I just lie there and wait for his grand entrance.
Maybe if I play dead, he’ll just sniff me then leave me alone like Titan has.
Everything hurts, and my pulse is racing even harder.
As expected, it’s a matter of seconds before the door swings open and the light gets turned on.
It’s unexpectedly too bright too fast, making me squint and cover my eyes.
“Row—Erin?” Liam’s in front of me, his hair mussed either from sleep or dragging his fingers through it. He’s shirtless, and he’s wearing checkered pajama bottoms that dip when he kneels next to me. My mouth dries up at that trail of muscle leading to his—
“What happened? You okay?” There’s a softness in his voice that tugs at my heart as he helps sit me up, looking me over with wild, concern-filled eyes. He holds up his hand. “How many fingers?” His hand is much steadier than mine is.
A laugh bubbles out of me, which makes his forehead wrinkle into a frown. “What’s so funny?”
“I fall over the dog, panic that you’ll think I was trying to escape, and come to yell at me, and you’re here playing nurse.” A hot, half naked, gruff nurse who’s so close his breath is tickling my skin every time he exhales.
He snorts. “You’re too smart to try to escape.
I assumed you’d tripped over your own feet.
” He leaves the sentence hanging, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s fighting a smirk.
He doesn’t need to add that when I was younger, I used to choke on my own spit, bump into things, or trip more than the average person.
The urge to trace his scar with my finger is so strong, I flex my hand, tucking my fingernails into my palm so tightly they pinch.
“As long as you’re not ruining my carpet by bleeding out, I’ll head back to bed.” He moves like he’s bracing to stand, and before I know what’s happening, my hand shoots out to grab his arm.
We both stare at where my fingers are wrapped around his forearm for longer than is probably healthy before we make eye contact. “Since you’re here, I have a question.”
Why the fuck is my voice so breathless?
I clear my throat. “If I need to make a phone call, is that possible?” It’s an extreme test of this nice guy act he’s decided to go with, but if I can’t get my phone back from Sorcha before check-in… well, it’s worth a shot.
Or at least I thought it was until Liam’s brow arches in silent question. His nostrils flare as he folds his arms. “For the sake of argument, I say yes. Who would you call, Erin?”
I heave out an impatient sigh, as though his question is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever been asked. “You yanked me from my life, Liam. I have responsibilities, a job, friends who are probably worried about me, wondering where I’ve disappeared to.”
“You don’t have a job. Not right now.”
“You don’t understand—”
He cups my face, the gentle sweeping of his thumb against the apple of my cheek a contrast to his quickly chilling tone. “No. You don’t understand. You’re not calling anyone.”
My heart sinks, nausea rolling in my stomach, reminding me it’s still there.
He stands and leaves without another word. Titan licks my cheek. But my brain still races. What other options do I have? Do people still have landlines? We had one at the bar, but do the mafia still use them? Would there be one in an office?
I’ll have to explore tomorrow and see, and if not… I… I don’t know what the hell I’ll do.
First item on the agenda after a solo breakfast is to find Sorcha and see if she’s going to give me the phone back. If she is, then all this worrying is for no reason at all. Maeve tells me she’s with Patrick in his office. Despite the fact the man terrifies me to my very marrow, needs must.
I knock and a man’s grunt is the only answer I get. I assume that means I can go in. Would it kill them to enunciate? Communicate like grown-ups? I’ve heard them yell enough to know they can do it.
I clear my throat as I enter, and Patrick’s head snaps up. “Erin.” He puts his pen on the table as though he’s giving me his full attention. “Is everything okay?” He removes his glasses, slowly folding each arm and setting them on the notes in front of him.
My mouth refuses to form words so I simply nod.
He waits.
Still nothing comes out of my mouth. I just… stare.
He tips his head. “Looking for Sorcha, are you?”
I manage another nod. “Y-yes. Do you know where she is?”
“She’s headed to the shops.” He must either smell my fear or see my disappointment that I’m trying so damn hard to hide. “You’re shaking, sit.” His voice is a little warmer, kinder, but still carries that rough edge that has me damn near shitting myself.
The last thing I want to do is drag out my time with him, but telling the head of the Irish mafia “no” doesn’t really seem like something that will work for me, so… I sit.
“I heard you last night with Liam. If you need to make a call, that could be arranged.” His voice is level, but it feels like a trap, bait, or worse, a test. And I have no idea what the right answer is to pass it. Does he want me to say no to doing something behind Liam’s back?
He slides his mobile across the table to me. I stare at it. Temptation has my fingers twitching. Offering or trap?
“You don’t need to worry about our Liam. I’ll handle him. If you need to tell your family you’re safe, go on ahead.”
My palms are sweaty, my throat tight. “Th-thanks so much for the offer, Mr. Mahoney.” I swallow.
“And I might take you up on that if I can’t convince Liam to let me use the phone.
But I don’t think going behind his back is the right move right now.
” I offer a shaky smile. “We seem to have declared some kind of fragile peace. I don’t want to risk that by betraying him. ”
He stares at me for so long my skin feels like it might ignite under his assessment, but he eventually nods. “Grand. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
I take it I’m dismissed because he picks up his glasses and pen and goes back to his papers.
I try—unsuccessfully—not to panic on my way back to the kitchen. A cup of tea will settle my nerves.
“I’ll take a cup if you’re making it.” Sorcha’s voice pierces the air as I reach for a mug, and my soul nearly leaves my body. I hate how obvious my fear is around these people.
When I spin to face her, she holds a hand up. “Sorry. Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
I cover my chest with my palm trying to convince my heart not to go into cardiac arrest.
“I don’t blame you for being jumpy.” She puts a paper bag on the table and sweeps in to take over tea duty. “Sit. I’ll sort this.”
She makes the tea in silence, puts two cups in front of us, and reaches into the bag, producing a handful of chocolate bars. She grins. “Period provisions.” She spreads them out then gestures for me to pick. “Friends don’t let friends consume unholy amounts of chocolate alone.”
My throat tightens. I miss my friends (okay friend, singular), my life, even my job at the shitty bar. I pick up a Twix and wag it at her. “Fine. But only if you’ll go to the shop for me when it’s my turn.”
She grabs a Lion bar. “Deal.” Her bar is half gone before I’ve even peeled mine open, and she makes small talk, about the weather, about what I want for dinner, and everything that isn’t the elephant in the room. Or rather the burner phone.
After about half an hour, she goes to make another cup of tea, and when she puts it down in front of me, she hands me the phone.
Relief floods my veins, tears fill my eyes, and I stare at it like it’s a mirage.
“Hurry up and tuck it out of sight before someone sees it.”
I stare at her in silence before putting it in my pocket. “Why?” It’s not that I’m not relieved, but I’m not sure whether I trust it.
She shrugs. “Protecting the Mahoneys comes with the ring. It’s just that simple.”
Is it?
Regardless of her motives, I’m already looking forward to a good night’s sleep tonight knowing that Brian won’t be going door-to-door looking for me. I’ll make my check-in and pray he doesn’t hear a lie in my breathing.