Chapter 33
KATIE
The car rolls to a stop just before the crime scene tape outside of the Orion. Detective Moore spots us approaching, his casual expression morphing into a look of dread when he sees Aiden leaping out of the car.
Despite three men trying to stop him, Aiden forcefully shoves past them and rushes for the building. His frantic movement halts abruptly when Robbie is carried out on a stretcher, unconscious and covered in blood. “Robbie!”
“Sir, you can’t—”
“Robbie!” Aiden screams, barrelling through the shield of gardaí to get to his brother.
Stepping out of the car, I notice Joe and éabha swiftly exiting their own vehicle, concern etched on their faces as they assess the scene before them.
“What the hell happened?” Joe demands, pulling éabha to his side, her hands covering her mouth as she watches Robbie being loaded into the ambulance.
“CCTV footage shows a hooded figure attacking Robbie from behind,” Moore explains. “The kid put up some fight before he went down.”
“That’s my brother!” Aiden roars at a paramedic who attempts to stop him from jumping the ambulance.
Moore gives the man a subtle nod of approval, prompting the paramedic to step aside, granting Aiden access to his brother’s side.
“Will Robbie be ok?” I manage to ask, not quite able to tear my gaze from my fiancé. He is usually so calm and collected, but now his features are twisted with fear and unbridled rage.
Moore lets out a heavy sigh. “I shouldn’t be disclosing any information about this.
” His gaze flickers to me once more, a hint of pity evident in his eyes.
I detest that look. He thinks I’m fragile; that much is evident in the way he’s trying to handle me with kid gloves.
“He’s stable for now,” Moore finally responds, his voice softer than before. “But it’s too early to tell.”
“I’m going!” Aiden argues in the back of the ambulance, freezes for a split second, and then jumps back out. “Bug,” he mutters, jogging over to me.
“It’s ok, go.” Kissing him on the cheek, I reassure him that I’ll be fine without him.
“You’ll be safer without me here.” He starts to turn but freezes again, muttering under his breath. “But what if that’s what he wants? If I leave you here, you’re vulnerable. But if you come with me and he tries to…”
“Aiden?”
He’s too busy thinking out loud to hear me.
His eyes flash to the building in front of us, then he turns to Moore.
“You’ll be here all night, right? It’s a crime scene, there will be gardaí here all night.
” Moore nods, and Joe speaks up, understanding Aiden’s concern.
“I’ll walk her in and make sure there are no nasty surprises upstairs. ”
Aiden appears to be torn between the desire to stay and the need to leave, eventually, he nods in agreement, squeezes my hand tightly and says, “Ring me if anything feels off. Lock that door as soon as Joe leaves. Don’t answer it for anyone; I don’t care if it’s the gardaí or not.
Do not open that door until I get back.”
“Go,” I nudge him gently, giving him a reassuring smile.
Aiden gives me one last worried look before reluctantly letting go of my hand and sprinting for the ambulance.
Joe tells éabha to stay with Moore and leads me inside just as the ambulance pulls off.
The almost vacant nightclub is eerie; a handful of gardaí are busy taking statements from Keith and the other bouncers on duty.
Keith spots me coming, offering up a tight smile and head tilt in acknowledgement as Joe leads me up the stairs of the Orion and into Aiden’s office.
“You can go back down to éabha; I’ll be fine.”
He doesn’t listen. Ushering me inside, he gently closes the door behind us and begins searching every corner of the room.
“Usually, I would say AJ is just being paranoid,” he tosses over his shoulder, pulling open the door to the bathroom and searching anywhere someone could potentially hide.
“But we both saw what Walsh is capable of; I wouldn’t put it past him to try and pull a sneak attack.
” He closes the bathroom door and charges for the adjoining rooms, checking behind the doors, in the wardrobes, and even under the bed AJ uses when he’s spent all night pouring over paperwork.
“Mind you,” he says with a grunt, pushing himself off the floor and scanning the room one last time.
“If Walsh wanted to die so badly, he would have been better to do it himself.”
I don’t know what to say to that. It’s obvious that Joe knows who he’s dealing with where Aiden is concerned, but I’m not about to agree with his deduction.
Aiden is going to kill David Walsh; it was already on his to-do list, but since Walsh targeted Robbie, any chances he had of a quick death just flew out the window.
Aiden was livid before, when it was just me, and I wasn’t even hurt.
His baby brother just got carried away on a stretcher—the streets of Dublin will run red with blood until Aiden finally sinks his blade into Walsh’s chest.
“Thanks for…” I make a point of looking around the otherwise vacant room.
“No problem. Take care of yourself, Katie,” Joe spins for the door. “Don’t forget to lock it behind me.” He calls, pulling the door shut behind him.
I make a point of doing just that. Turning the lock until I hear a click and sealing myself inside, I breathe a sigh of relief.
This part of Aiden’s office holds the only window in the building, peering out into the concrete horizon which is Dublin City Centre. I fight with my heels, falling over the back of the couch after losing balance before I wiggle the straps free.
Risking a peek outside, I look down at the crime scene tape and flashing lights from the surrounding Garda cars. Taking a deep breath in, I cross my arms and look at the ceiling, letting it out. “Please let Robbie be ok.”
The computer on Aiden’s desk hums softly, the only sound breaking the heavy silence in the room.
Maybe the cameras caught something—anything that can tell us who did this to Robbie.
Dropping into the desk chair, I wiggle the mouse to wake up the computer screen, hoping for some answers to this nightmare.
Aiden will want to know. He’ll be checking the cameras as soon as he gets back to see who he needs to hunt down and kill.
I pull up the security footage, skipping to the time of the phone call from Keith, ballparking Robbie’s attack around the fifteen-minute mark of that phone call, I guess right.
The footage shows a hooded figure approaching Robbie from behind; there is a flash of a knife just as Robbie turns around.
Fuck, this is hard to watch.
If it were anyone else, it wouldn’t be so bad. I can detach myself from the violence, but this is Robbie, the man has never been anything but kind to me. He can fight; my god, he can fight. That skill is most likely what kept him alive.
Robbie catches the blade twice in the torso and once in the side before his attacker jolts back. Three bouncers come barrelling out of the building, giving chase. I watch until the assailant completely vanishes from sight, my heart pounding in my chest.
Shit, Sandra. Does she know?
I quickly tap away at my phone.
Katie: Does your mam know about Robbie? xxx
Several minutes pass before my phone vibrates on the desk.
Aiden: She thinks it’s a mugging gone wrong.
My eyes fall to the massive diamond ring on my finger. I’m engaged less than two hours and Aiden has already been snatched away by this murky world he runs in.
Is this what I want? Do I really want this life of looking over my shoulder?
I love Aiden. I love every dark, depraved side of him. But am I willing to sit back and wait for it to be him bleeding out on a stretcher?
There is no doubt in my mind that when it comes to dangerous men, Aiden takes the cake.
But Walsh, though not as intelligent and put together as my man, is just as capable of taking a life as Aiden.
The drugs make Walsh a bigger risk, amplifying the unpredictable nature of his behaviour.
In contrast, Aiden is calculated, cold, and methodical.
Walsh is impulsive, rash, and jittery. He will just as easily shoot himself in the foot as he would put a bullet in someone’s skull.
Stepping into the adjoining room, I make my way to the wardrobe, pull out one of Aiden’s shirts, and slip into it, discarding my dress on the floor as I crawl into the double bed.
I don’t want to text him again. Not yet. Instead, I wriggle further into the bed, staring at the ceiling and hoping the sound of the city will drown out my racing thoughts.
I jolt awake to the sound of the door clicking open. I don’t know how much time has passed; I didn’t even realise I drifted off until my heart leapt into my throat.
Slow, clipped footsteps move around the office but make no move to come closer to where I have been sleeping.
It has to be Aiden, but to be sure, I creep from the bed, navigating my way to the door in the pitch black—a survival skill I learned while growing up in an addictive household.
Slowly pulling the door handle down, I peel it open to see a faint light coming from the bathroom.
Aiden appears in the doorway a moment later with a glass in his hand.
“Aiden?”
His eyes snap in my direction. His tired smile does not reach his stormy grey eyes. “Bug…”
“How’s Robbie?” I ask, stepping out of the room and hurrying towards him. There is blood staining his wrists, hands, and shirt, with a few droplets on his face.
“Stable,” he lifts the glass of amber liquid to his lips, his Adam’s apple bobs with each swallow. “Surgery went well. He should be up and about soon enough.”
I can’t tear my eyes from the blood staining his shirt and his hands.
His brother’s blood. “Let me help you with that.” Stepping closer, I pop the buttons open on his dress shirt, one by one.
The backs of my fingers skim his sculpted torso.
My gaze meets his as I slide my hands up his chest, pushing the fabric from his shoulders.
His eyes darken with a mix of emotions as my hands trace the outline of his muscles. Without a word, he leans in and captures my lips with his, the taste of whisky and something else I can’t quite discern lingering on his tongue.
“I really want to kill someone tonight,” he breathes against my lips.
“Too risky,” I whisper back, my hands still lingering on his chest. “Gardaí are everywhere, and you’ll have too many eyes on you.”
His grip tightens on my waist, his gaze intense. “I don’t care,” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous.
I don’t resist his touch; I lean into it. He’s hurting right now. Fuming. I would be too if I were in his shoes. “I do.” Placing my hand on his cheek, I realise just how heavy this engagement ring is; it feels like it could bend and snap the bone beneath my skin. “Stay with me tonight.”
He lowers his head to my shoulder, and allows my fingers to run through his hair, my nails scratching his scalp just the way he likes it.
“Wait a few days.”
His arms wrap around me, the cold glass pressing against my back, the only barrier being the shirt I’m wearing.
“You can hunt again when things calm down.”
His breath tickles my neck as he mumbles, “I need another drink.”
“Let me get you one.” Pulling back, I pluck the glass from his hand and walk to the mini bar to the left of his desk. One knuckle of whisky isn’t going to cut it tonight. I keep pouring until I’ve got at least four fingers worth in the glass.
Aiden’s hands hold him up as he leans against the desk behind him, his broad shoulders and lethal physique illuminated by the soft light pooling in from the bathroom. I hand him the glass and watch as he takes a long sip, his eyes never leaving mine.
“This is not how I imagined this night going,” he grumbles, setting the glass down on the desk.
“Me serving you drinks in only your shirt was not how you pictured things?”
“I’m not complaining about that part,” he smirks, reaching out for my hand. “But I did have other plans in mind.”
Tilting my head back, I press, “Care to fill me in?”
“Filling you was definitely part of the plan,” he growls, his lips brushing mine. “On every surface in our house.” Taking my hand in his, he glances at the ring on my finger and grins. “My beautiful bug.”
His eyes are heavy with exhaustion. There will be no frantic lovemaking tonight.
It’s not the time or the place. Guiding Aiden by the hand, I help clean up his marred skin and lead him to the bed.
He clumsily kicks his shoes off, shoves down his trousers, and collapses on the mattress, dragging his body over mine and settling his head on my chest.
“You’re not going to like what you see, bug. When I do find Walsh, you’ll finally glimpse the monster lurking beneath my skin.” His words are almost slurred; he’s been through too much tonight. It is taking its toll.
I run my fingers through his hair, inhaling his spicy, masculine scent. “Can’t wait.” Pressing my lips to his crown, I hold him close, watching as he slips into a deep, troubled sleep.
Monsters are ugly things, the man in my arms is not one of them.
He’s a villain with a gorgeous face and a twisted soul.
The way his cruelty seamlessly aligns with mine forces me to question my own sense of morality.
I’ve killed with him, I’ve lied for him, I’ve lost myself in his darkness, and he’s breathed life back into my empty soul, branding his name on my heart as if I were his possession.
I guess I am, in a way, but if life has taught me one thing, it’s that I’d rather be owned by him than lost without him.
I don’t tell him about the footage. Not yet.
He needs to sleep and regroup. He needs his strength.
The bastard who attacked Robbie had the good sense to cover his face, but the idiot forgot to cover the tattoos on his hands.
There is no doubt in my mind that Aiden will track him down, and when he does, a pig’s colon will be a welcomed destination compared with what Aiden will do to him.