Chapter Twelve
CILLIAN
I show up at six p.m. on the dot to relieve Dare, but it’s not Dare’s sports car that’s in the driveway but Liam’s SUV.
I walk in, expecting hell on earth, but instead it’s just Liam, holding a cup of coffee and sitting on the couch like he’d rather be anywhere else.
I raise an eyebrow. “Dare didn’t work out?”
He snorts. “Of course not. I should have never let him babysit her.”
I hum, walking into the house and shutting the door behind me. “What happened?”
“What do you think happened?”
I curse under my breath. “Dare let her seduce him?”
“I think he seduced her, from the way he was talking. He’s lost his fucking mind, Cill.”
Haven’t we all?
“Well, you know I won’t let her do that to me.”
Liam nods so quickly it’s almost offensive. Of course, he would trust me with Maggie instead of Dare. To be fair, I don’t have the problem with women that Dare always has had.
“Go home and get some rest,” I order, and Liam sighs, standing up.
He runs a hand through his hair.
I stare at him for a moment. “What happened? You look... shaken up.”
“Maggie and I... or Isla and I... we had... a moment.”
My eyebrows shoot up nearly to my hairline. “You did? What the hell? Is she some kind of succubus?”
“More like we all need to get laid.”
But despite Liam’s flippant response, I feel unsettled.
Liam isn’t like Dare, who flirts with everything in a skirt. He’s not even like me, who has long-term situationships because I can’t bear to take home a different woman every night.
Liam’s approach to sex is like his approach to everything else—measured. Calculated.
This isn’t like him.
And Maggie Sullivan is a walking dead woman. She’s trouble for everyone involved.
“Don’t fall for her during the night,” Liam says tiredly, and it’s supposed to be a joke, but it doesn’t sound like much of one.
Still, I snort. “Not likely.”
I’ve never been in love, and I doubt I’m going to fall for the wiles of a woman who’s also a traitor to the man who took me in when I had no one else.
Liam stumbles getting to the door, and I put a hand on his shoulder.
“Take a nap in the truck if you’re not okay to drive.”
“I’m good, just... too much coffee.” His hands tremble a little.
Instead of walking him out to his SUV, I just watch him get into the driver’s side.
I figure he may actually take that nap, but in the end, he just takes off.
I stand there, watching the dust on the road settle, until the softest of footsteps give her away. But I don’t turn, don’t react, until a throat is cleared behind me.
“Is there anything I can do for you?” I turn around.
Maggie, or Isla as she keeps insisting we call her, seems somewhat deflated, almost pouting.
It would be cute if she weren’t pure evil.
“Can anyone ever catch you by surprise?”
“Not if I want to keep living.”
“So, you never get scared?”
“I try to avoid it. Although, nothing wrong with being scared,” I mutter, using one of my old stand-bys. “Fear means you enjoy being alive.”
“That sounds like it was from someone special.”
“My father.” I puff my chest. “Or, rather, Liam’s father. He took me in as a sprout.”
“Can’t imagine you ever being a sprout.”
I chuckle. “I was a skinny, small kid. Didn’t grow up and out until I was a teenager.”
Her eyes widen. “You, small? What are you, six-five?”
“Six-four.”
She hums. “Bet you don’t have trouble reaching shit.”
I look at her, surprised.
She’s trying to make small talk. Is this her way of seducing me, because it’s not going to work. I’m not much of a talker.
As the day goes on, though, I realize this woman is a talker. She just won’t shut up, babbling about her married best friend and how her best friend may get pregnant soon, has been going through IVF.
I should really not know this much about her, and it’s all a cover story, anyway, so why is she still talking?
“And I moved to the city when I was nineteen. For work.” She paces around the house.
I watch her, sitting down on the couch at this point, tired just watching her flitting around like a hummingbird.
“And what is it that you do?”
She pauses. “I’m in investment banking.”
I scoff. “No, you aren’t. I know you’re Maggie Sullivan. Why keep up the act?”
I’m really curious at this point. Why would she continue to lie to me? The jig is up, and we’ve told her and proven to her we won’t hurt her.
Isla huffs. “Because I’m not her.”
“Please. You might as well give it up.”
It’s not like I expect her to come clean or anything, but what she does next confuses me.
She stalks over to me, lifting her shirt. She’s wearing a pair of sweats and a camisole, so it reveals her flat stomach, the very underline of one of her breasts.
My eyes rove over her body, unable to stop myself, and she points to a long, white scar across her abdomen.
“Open appendectomy when I was sixteen. I thought I had food poisoning, and it almost burst. Does Maggie Sullivan have that scar?”
“It means nothing.”
But does it? I never read anything in Maggie’s history about an appendectomy, and I’m pretty sure her medical records were attached. But like I told Liam, I didn’t read the whole thing. All I needed to know is what she looks like.
I can’t remember everything I did read, but this certainly wasn’t in it.
I’m shaken by it, just like I’m shaken by her beauty and her closeness.
She seems to keep getting closer and closer to me as I stare at the scar.
“You’re playing with fire, you know.”
She shrugs. “Maybe I like a little heat.”
“You don’t know what you’re getting into.”
She lets her shirt drop to cover herself, thank God.
“I know who you are. Cillian O’Shea. Enforcer of the Hayes clan.”
“Then you know how deadly I am.”
“I don’t, actually.” She tilts her head, looking at me curiously. “How high is your body count?”
I shake my head. “Too high.”
“You don’t know how many people you killed?” She looks baffled.
Unfortunately, I do. I remember every single one. But I’ll never tell her that. Never tell anyone that.
So, I just chuckle mirthlessly. “It becomes like breathing after you do enough of them. It becomes second nature.”
Lies. Your soul gets ripped from your body piece by piece every time you take a life. And deserved or not, it takes a toll.
Each life taken hurts just as bad as the first one. With so many, you’d think I’d gotten used to it by now, but I never have, and I think I never will.
I hate killing, but for my family, I’ll kill whoever it takes and smile doing it.
Except this woman, it seems.
She narrows her eyes at me. “I don’t think that’s true.”
“I’m telling you it’s true.” I look up at her, biting my bottom lip briefly before letting it go. Hoping she can’t read into me. “Which is why you should stay away from me.”
“You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”
“And I won’t.”
“Then there's nothing you can threaten me with, except a good time.”
I bark out a rusty laugh. “Is that really how you think? Didn’t you have enough fun with Dare?”
She shrugs. “Maybe I want more fun. If I’m going to be cooped up here, I may as well enjoy myself.”
“What, you don’t enjoy my company unless dick is involved?”
She laughs, throwing back her head, and the sound makes my heart skip a beat.
“Fine. We can talk. I’m not Maggie, but I’m also not in investment banking.”
“Then what is it you do?”
“Seduce men for money.”
I blink at her, and she bursts out laughing. “You really thought I was serious?”
“I don’t know. Seemed like you took down Dare pretty easily.”
She smirks. “Maybe Dare and I just have chemistry.”
I stand up before I know what I’m doing, taking a couple of steps toward her. “And you don’t have chemistry with me?”
“I didn’t say that.”
I have to stop this. I have to stop looking down into those green-flecked eyes, have to stop wondering what her mouth tastes like.
Is it as sweet as it looks?
I stop myself from leaning down to kiss her by wrenching myself away, stalking to the kitchen. “Time to eat.”
She follows me, sitting down at the table and glaring at the window like it personally offended her.
I don’t ask questions, just rummaging in the fridge for sandwich stuff, making us each one and bringing it to the table.
“Liam made me French toast.”
Good for Liam.
I don’t know why I’m feeling grumpy every time she brings up Dare or Liam, but I can’t seem to help it. Some part of me wants her to try and seduce me, I guess.
Liam’s right. I really do need to get laid.