Chapter 11
ELEVEN
Cian
Devlin had eaten two plates of food—our bartender, Starla, had even provided him with ketchup after he’d asked very nicely.
Now he sat on his stool, leaning against the wall as casually as could be.
Like he wasn’t wearing a shock collar underneath that hoodie.
But I knew it was there, and so did he. Knowing I had an invisible leash on him had kept me half-hard the whole afternoon.
I left the bar area to stand along the far wall, a half-empty soda can dangling from my fingers. I needed to put some distance between me and Devlin, especially after what he’d told Jace.
Are you willing to do that for your brother?
I didn’t think Jace could. He was a violent little brat, but he wouldn’t know the first thing about mindfucking someone. He’d just make a stabby mess and be done with it.
Before meeting Devlin, I would’ve said I wasn’t sure I had it in me either.
If it had been anyone else, I probably wouldn’t have even considered it.
Violence felt less messy. But with Devlin…
I wanted inside his mind. I wanted to know how he ticked.
He told me not to try to understand him, but that only made me want to dig deeper.
I didn’t like being told what to do, and Devlin’s pleas had sounded more like an invitation than a warning.
I also had to remember that Devlin wasn’t just some ex-criminal willing to bite off someone’s ear.
He was smart. He was manipulative. And if I didn’t stay on my guard, he’d fuck my mind first. Even now, he stared at me from across the room with a slight smirk on his face.
In the hours since O'Shea’s had opened to the public, he’d rarely taken his eyes off me as I’d made my way around the place.
Whenever he’d looked away to either speak to Starla or study someone else, something ugly and green stirred inside me.
I wanted all his attention on me.
That should have been the red flag I needed.
I should have stepped away and pawned Devlin off on Rhys or another member of my crew.
But the thought of anyone else touching my devil made my blood boil.
He was my responsibility. My prisoner. My property.
It was too late to give him up now, and I was charging full steam ahead.
Hack stepped up next to me, but I didn’t look away from my target as he took a sip of water and watched me over the rim of his glass.
I turned to Hack and caught sight of his bloodshot eyes. I frowned. “You eat yet?”
“No,” he said, licking his chapped lips. “I was working on what you asked for.”
I rubbed a hand over my hair. It was getting too long again and needed a buzz. “I didn’t say you had to do it right this second. Christ, eat something. You look like shit.”
He rolled his eyes. “You know how I get when I start something.”
It was true. Hack was like a dog with a bone when it came to his research.
I should have known he’d hole himself up in his room full of screens and wouldn’t stop until he found something.
After the meeting earlier, I’d asked him for more information on Devlin—the kind of stuff that wouldn’t be in a file.
“So, what did you find?” I asked.
“I forwarded you a summary.”
I’d asked for information on two very specific things. “Give me the bullet points.”
Hack bit his lower lip. “All right… Well, his dad is dead. Had some sort of heart condition, but pretty much just drank himself to death. Devlin hadn’t had any contact with him since he was seventeen.”
I drained the last of my soda. “And?”
Hack’s gaze lifted to meet mine. “He’s never been linked to any romantic partners. There was some chatter among his sex workers that there were a few women he’d use on occasion. Blowjobs only.”
“Women?” I asked.
“Only women,” he confirmed. “That’s all of it.
And the only reason I found any of that information was because it was unusual, you know?
Someone in his position not fucking around more.
He had a lot of willing bodies at his disposal, people who would’ve been eager to stand by his side to get ahead. But he didn’t let anyone close.”
I tapped my fingers against the empty soda can as I attempted to work out the puzzle that was Devlin Walsh.
I hadn’t thought he was lying when he told me he’d never been with anyone, but I’d still wanted something to confirm it.
Even now I struggled to believe it was true.
Devlin seemed like he had a raging sex drive.
He got hard for me in seconds. He came like a freight train any time I let him.
He loved being on his knees below me. How could he have gone so long without submitting to anyone? He seemed like he’d die without it.
“Thanks, Hack,” I murmured. I knew he’d keep my unconventional request to himself. “If you hear anything else, let me know. Now go eat, then get some sleep before you pass out.”
Hack smiled and nodded, then shuffled his way toward the kitchen where he’d likely pester our cook, Randy, for a steak.
I placed the empty can on a table before heading back toward Devlin, who watched me the whole way, green eyes glittering. As I reached his side, my phone lit up with an incoming call from Mads. He started yelling the second I answered.
“The bitch is gone!” His voice trembled over the line. Then the connection started cutting in and out. “She’s—not—empty home… Gone, Cian!” I could hear a hysterical Dylan in the background, who sounded like he was crying. “No sign—Jeremy!”
“Slow down,” I ordered. Devlin straightened on his stool, his full attention shifting to me when he heard my sharp tone. “Your signal sucks, and yelling isn’t helping. You said she’s gone?”
The line filled with shuffling. Car doors opened and shut.
Choked sobbing. Then Mads spoke again, clearer this time, “Nina got evicted weeks ago. None of the neighbors have seen or heard from her, and no one knows where she went. Fuck, Cian! She just took Jeremy and… disappeared.” His voice broke on the last word.
I forced myself to think through this logically, because Mads was in no condition to do so. “Has Jeremy been to school?”
“I don’t know. It’s Saturday. Dyl can’t call.”
“Shit,” I muttered, rubbing my forehead. “I can send men out to canvass the area. Does Nina have access to money? A car?”
Dylan murmured something in the background. “Dyl said she’s been seeing some lowlife. And we don’t want to call the cops because what if they take him away? Involve CPS or some shit?” Mads was working himself up again. I could hear his breath rasping over the line.
“Mads. Breathe. Are you in Langford right now?”
“Yeah.”
“Send me your location. I’ll get a search party together. We’ll ask around. We’ll find him, Mads. I promise.”
“Thanks, Cian.” He sniffled, then hung up.
While I waited for the text, Devlin remained unnaturally still, his gaze locked on the bar.
“So what was that about?”
“Mads’s nephew is missing.”
Devlin’s eyes lifted to mine, and something in his expression made me pause. He looked… unsettled. I turned and gave him my full attention. “What?”
“His name is Jeremy? And he’s from Langford? How old is he?”
“Not sure,” I said. “Seven, maybe eight? Elementary school age.”
Devlin worked his jaw and leaned back on his stool. “Tell them to check the motel they snatched me from. The Lowery, across from Joe’s Pizza. Room 15.”
That motel was in Gary, the next county over from Langford. I narrowed my eyes. “What are you saying? I need details before I send Mads there.”
“It’s too much of a coincidence for it to be him, but…” he shrugged. “There was a kid around that age at The Lowery. Said his name was Jeremy. He stayed there with a woman, and a man who came and went. They’d been there for a few weeks.”
I picked up my phone and called Mads.
Devlin
Not even two hours later, the doors to O’Shea’s swung open. Mads stomped through with a man behind him who had to be his brother, Dylan. And on Dylan’s hip was a familiar face. Jeremy.
His clothes were dirty, and there was another bruise on his wrist. Guilt soured my gut. I’d let the kid down. I had planned to call the cops all those days ago. But then I’d gotten abducted, and chained in a shed, and had a dick shoved down my throat, and almost burned alive…
I hadn’t done anything to help get the kid out of his shitty situation. The fact that he was Mads’s nephew was just a coincidence. But despite my guilt, I felt a small sense of relief knowing the kid would be okay. Because Cian was involved now. Cian would fix everything.
Mads cut through the crowd toward Cian, who leaned over the bar to speak to Starla. “Tell Randy to make some chicken fingers and fries for the kid. And plate up a piece of chocolate cake.”
“On it.” Starla turned on her heel and disappeared into the kitchen.
As soon as he was within earshot of Cian, Mads started spitting fire. “That bitch! She—”
“Mads. Not here,” Dylan said. His voice was hoarse, and his eyes were red-rimmed. He dropped onto the empty stool next to Cian and settled Jeremy on his lap. “Just… later. Please.” He sounded exhausted.
Jeremy turned his head and locked eyes with me. The direct eye contact made me squirm, but I couldn’t look away. Did he blame me? Was he disappointed? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
Cian bent to the kid’s level, making himself appear smaller. Then he spoke in a soft voice I hadn’t thought he was capable of, “You hungry? They’re making you some chicken fingers and fries right now. Does that sound good?”
“He’s barely talked since we picked him up,” Mads murmured, voice tight.
Jeremy didn’t look at Cian. Or his dad. Or Mads. He just kept staring at me. When he squirmed in Dylan’s grip, he reluctantly let him slide to the floor. He marched right over to me, and every muscle in my body froze. My tongue felt glued to the roof of my mouth.