21. Molly
Molly
“ W hat about Orla?” I asked Keir once we’d been shown to the sitting room we had met in yesterday.
He stopped pacing long enough to look at me. “We have no leads right now. I need to make some phone calls.”
Every second Orla was missing felt like a tear in my heart.
I didn’t want her to end up in a situation like mine.
Or worse, a situation like Mila’s. Glancing at the other woman, I found her lying on the sofa, her face turned in my direction.
If she felt any guilt over shooting a man today, it didn’t show.
“Can we get a room to rest in properly?” she asked Keir.
He ignored her question, returning to his pacing until the door to the room opened, and the Sionnach Clan’s Boss stepped inside.
“Two visits in less than twenty-four hours,” he commented, his shrewd eyes sweeping first over me, then Mila, who immediately sat up. “And you’ve collected another lass along the way.”
“It’s a long story,” Keir replied, running a hand through his hair. The movement made the sleeve of his borrowed shirt stretch over his biceps. “Can we rest here for a few hours before returning to Galway?”
Gael’s arctic blue gaze swept over us once more before they returned to Keir. “Of course. I have a small wing that could be of use. I’ll have one of the staff show you upstairs. Was there anything else you needed?”
“Some food,” Mila replied in her brash American accent, drawing everyone’s eye. “Maybe some coffee?”
Gael’s mouth quirked to the side. “Of course.” He turned, moving to the wall beside the fireplace where an honest-to-god pull rope hung from the ceiling. He tugged it, and a moment later, an older woman in a black dress and white apron stepped into the room.
“Sir?”
“Hannah, could you show my guests to the Victoria wing and get them settled. Then take them up some sandwiches and coffee.”
The woman nodded. “Yes, sir.”
Mila dragged herself into a standing position and threaded her arm through mine as we moved toward the door.
We were at least a dozen feet ahead of the men when Mila ducked her head and asked quietly, “Do you trust this guy?”
I glanced over my shoulder at Keir and Gael as they spoke. “Which one?”
“I already know you’re hate fucking the dark-eyed one?—”
“Keir,” I corrected. “And we aren’t?—”
“Yes, you are. You can cut the tension with a fucking knife, and I am here for it. In answer to your question, the older one. Do you trust him?”
Surreptitiously, I looked back at the Sionnach Boss. He turned to face me a second later, and I flushed. Quickly averting my eyes, I replied, “No, not really. Though it’s his son that I really don’t like.”
Mila huffed a laugh. “The sons of powerful men are always narcissistic assholes with BPD.”
“What’s BPD?”
“Borderline personality disorder.” She shrugged. “I am— was a psych major. I was supposed to go to Harvard for grad school next fall.” She rolled her eyes. “Guess that won’t happen now.”
We followed Hannah up a grand set of stairs to the first floor, while Keir and Gael talked at the base. The carpet was so plush under our feet it felt like we were walking on a cloud. “You said you’d been at the Fiach compound for a week. Did they give you any hint at what would happen next?”
She gave me a roguish smile. “Marriage to the old crusty dinosaur, I suppose. Thank fuck you and Keir got me out of there.”
Hannah stopped in front of a beautiful set of doors, which she opened with a flourish. Beyond them was a large sitting room decorated in shades of pale green and trimmed with gold.
“There are two bedrooms attached to the sitting room,” Hannah said, clasping her hands together and stepping aside. “There’s also a bathroom to the right. You should be more than comfortable. I’ll bring you some sandwiches and coffee shortly.”
Mila unhooked her arm from mine and walked inside, crossing to one of the bedroom doors and peering inside. “I’ll give you Brits one thing. You know how to do opulence.”
“Thank you, Hannah,” I said. “We appreciate it.”
She bobbed her head, then turned back the way we’d come.
“Babe, you have got to see this bedroom,” Mila called, sounding giddy.
Mila was spread-eagled on a bed that could probably fit four people. Her infectious smile brought out mine too, and I wondered how she could still be so positive despite being sold by her father.
Mila patted the bed beside her, inviting me to join her. Flopping down, I stared up at the decorative plasterwork ceiling and sighed, feeling content for probably the first time since I’d discovered Orla was gone.
Guilt churned in my stomach knowing my sister was still out there, but I had to trust Keir knew what he was doing. He had resources I could barely dream about.
“So, what’s your story, babe?” Mila asked, cracking one eye open and turning her head to look at me. “Kidnapped, too?”
“Are kidnappings such a common occurrence?”
She snorted. “They are in my world,” she muttered. “It’s just I knew what kind of life I would live, but you don’t seem like the kind of girl who is a part of this world.”
“I’m not. I’m a regular nursing student.”
“Then how did you get dragged into this?” Mila gestured to the room and the grandeur that surrounded us.
“By trusting the wrong person,” I said softly, regret thrumming in my chest.
“Babe, been there, done that. Got the fucking T-shirt. Zero out of ten. Would not recommend.”
Aside from Fallon, I’d never let another person close to me—close enough to call them a friend.
But hearing Mila talk like I was her equal made a smile creep onto my face.
Ever since Grady had given me that bullet to deliver, I’d felt like I was being hunted.
It seemed like a lifetime ago now, and this small reprieve did more good for my soul than I thought possible. “Who did you trust?”
She blinked those distinctive gray eyes at me. “Someone who I thought was a friend. My father’s adviser.” She rolled her head back, her gaze fixed on the ceiling once more. “He said I could trust him. That he’d get me out before my father could send me out of the country. But he didn’t.”
Reaching out, I felt for her hand, grabbing it when I found it. “Men are dicks,” I whispered.
She huffed out a small laugh. “The worst kind of dicks. They break your heart.”
I turned to face her in time to see her wipe a tear away with her free hand, so I squeezed her hand in mine. We laid like that until the coffee and sandwiches arrived.
“You want something?” I asked, sitting up.
Mila’s eyes were shut as she said, “Sleeeeep.”
Sliding from the bed, I padded into the sitting room, shutting the bedroom door behind me. Keir hadn’t returned and being alone only made my mind turn to the fact that Orla was still missing.
Had Keir found anything out yet? Were we too late?
I slouched in one of the delicate armchairs and snagged a sandwich from the tray. Nibbling on the corner, I sat back and waited for Keir to show. I hated to admit it, but I craved the comfort of his presence. He’s gone from my enemy to … not my lover, but somewhere in that gray space in between.
The front pocket of my hoody suddenly vibrated with a text, and I lurched forward, snatching it out to look at the screen. There was a new text with a photo attached.
Unknown number: Missing something?
The taunt was followed by a photo of Orla. She was blindfolded and sitting on the filthy ground in a dark room. Her pajamas were dirty, and blood was smeared under her nose.
With shaking fingers, I typed out my reply.
What do you want?
The bubbles bounced up and down as my sister’s captor typed. Chewing my thumbnail, I waited, watching the bubbles appear and disappear.
Unknown number: You.
It was only three brief letters, but they were enough to make my stomach twist into an anxious knot.
My hands shook as I considered what to say, but I didn’t have long to worry as another message came through with an address.
Pasting it into the maps app, I found the address was for a small bed-and-breakfast, The Old Mill, just north of Naul Village, on the border between Dublin and Meath.
Now that I knew where Orla was being held, I had to leave.
While Mila was asleep, and before Keir could return to the wing.
Opening the door, I checked to see if the coast was clear, then slipped out into the hall.
It was quiet in this house. I was used to it since I lived alone, but this version was louder somehow.
Sound dampened by thick carpets and rugs.
Hurrying along the hallway, I kept an eye out for Keir, and by the time I made it to the front door, I was sweating with nerves.
Thankfully, the Caddie wasn’t there, and I bypassed any other security.
Keir’s Rover was still parked in the same spot, and as I climbed in, I prayed he’d left the key there too.
I looked everywhere and was about to give up when I thought I’d try the button.
The car started, and I thanked whatever god was up there that it did.
I peeled out of the compound, quickly turning north toward the border.
Pea gravel pinged the undercarriage of the Rover as I drove down the long driveway toward the Old Mill.
From what I could see between the trees, it was a collection of buildings that had probably once belonged to a working farm.
Everything now looked in disrepair, and any hope of finding my sister unharmed faded from my mind.
Pulling to a stop alongside one of the outbuildings, I killed the engine and got out.
I hoped this wasn’t a colossal fucking mistake, but then I thought about Orla and how I wanted her to be safe.
If she was okay, then I could live with anything.
There was no movement outside of the buildings, no one here to escort me inside, so I walked cautiously to the door of the barn and peered inside.