Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
LIAM
“You've been distracted, Hayes.” Allen’s voice startles me.
I’ve been staring at my phone for too long.
Isla texted, asked how I was, and I just responded with:
busy.
Now I can’t stop staring at Isla’s last message.
When you get home, I’ll take care of you.
In reality, this is the first time in my life I find it hard to work at all.
I love what I do, the environment, the power, the sterile nature of the corporate office. The fact that here everything is black and white. No gray areas, no gray morals.
It’s so vastly different than what I do outside of the clan that it allows me to escape. Plus, it’s just… simpler. Cleaner. No blood on my hands while I’m at my desk or in a board meeting.
I frown at Allen. “Distracted?”
He nods. “You’ve been taking a lot of personal time, and even when you’re here, it’s like you’re a million miles away.”
I look at him coolly. “Is there something going on with the company that I don’t know about?”
I know there isn’t.
Allen simply can’t accept that I have a personal life outside of work, but honestly, neither can I.
And what kind of personal life is it anyway? Sharing Isla with my two best friends while I seethe with jealousy?
But something about the way Isla looks at me, her lip caught between her teeth, hazel eyes bright with mischief, that I just can’t seem to give up.
If I let it come down to it, she’d choose one of them. Not me. Never me. But do I want to give her up?
Fuck, no!
As much as it pains me, and though the most painful torture wouldn’t get it out of me, I’d hate myself if I let her go.
It is not a competition, and I can’t let it become one. But if it were, I’d hate myself forever for losing by not even trying. I’m that competitive, that's all. It has nothing to do with feelings. I'm not like Dare, making eyes at her and drooling over her. Risking everything for a woman.
Not just any woman, but still.
“N-no, sir, of course not.” Allen lowers his eyes, almost flinching.
Fucking coward.
He might be a good employee, my second in command at the office, but he’s too much of a liability for me to let him make any decisions. I mean, with how fearful he is, this company would go nowhere if I let him in charge for longer than a few hours at a time or depended on him for anything.
He’s lucky I keep this company separated from the clan, or he’d be six feet under by now. There is no way I would trust him with any secrets.
But this is supposed to be my escape. My safe place. My haven. The place I come to escape clan life.
I’m forced to rule with fear outside of work, I don’t want it to happen here.
“And need I let you go and appoint someone else to your position, since apparently, me taking a little time off here and there is a problem for you? Or are you suggesting I need to be here twenty-four-seven? Because in that case, why would I need you?”
He is shaking now, shrunk as much as he can without hiding under the chair. “N-No, sir, that’s… That’s not… I mean…”
The man is a wet blanket at best and a yellowbelly at worst. He does his job well, not needing to be micromanaged, but his personality disgusts me. Unlike with Cillian and Dare, who have their issues, Allen and I will never be friends.
After all these years working together, him being a coward still pisses me off.
I look him dead in the eyes, and he looks away, scurrying out of my office.
My eyes fly back to my phone, to Isla’s text.
I still haven’t texted her back, and I don’t plan to. I can’t remember whose shift it is, but really, it doesn’t matter. We’ve taken to spending a lot of time together with her. And though we mostly keep it one-on-one, we’ve shared her more than once as a group.
I hate thinking of Cill or Dare alone with her. But when we were all together, it was the best sex I’ve ever had. Not that I’ll ever tell any of them.
And after the day I’m having today, and all I still have to get done, I’ll need a release. I’ll need her.
Groaning, I dread the hardest chore of today. I have to talk to my father.
His men have been scouring the city for Maggie. This morning, we’ve even lost a couple of them because of it.
Those men had families, people that loved them, and I have put this conversation off for too long now. I should have told him as soon as Cill told me. But looking at those pictures, at Isla’s lifeless face staring back at me, I couldn’t breathe.
Now, I can’t stand by any longer. Can’t allow anyone else to die for someone who is gone, shot through the head like the traitor she was.
These two dead men will forever weigh on my shoulders. If I had reached out to my da sooner, they would still be alive, so this is all my fault.
Gritting my teeth, I print out Cillian’s pictures of Maggie’s dead body and a copy of her death certificate.
Now I have to hope against hope my father is having one of his increasingly rare moments of clarity.
Allen, like the little spineless bastard he is, appears to be avoiding me.
Weak fuck.
That’s the reason I keep him at arm’s length. Well, I suppose I keep everyone at arm’s length, except for the guys. And maybe now… Isla.
The thought makes my stomach churn.
I hate being vulnerable. My father always taught me that the second you open up to someone, they’re able to stab you in the back, and with the exception of Cill and Dare, I’ve always lived by that.
So, why am I so antsy to get home to a woman who’s not only fucking my two best friends as well, but cagey and vague about her past?
What if Isla’s up to something? What, I can’t imagine, but it just seems strange how she hasn’t revealed much about herself in all the weeks we’ve known her.
I mean, sure, we kidnapped her, and I already told her we’re never letting her go, but still, it’s only been surface-level stuff. Nothing about her childhood, nothing about what she did or who she spent her time with.
It’s suspicious, and Dare claims to have scoured the internet for Isla Quinn and found nothing.
What if it’s another alias? What if she’s connected to Cormac?
I may feel something strange toward her that I can’t quite name, but I don’t trust her. I can’t afford to. She has the power to destroy me.
The only people I trust are Dare and Cillian, and even then, I can’t trust them when it comes to Isla. They’re both losing it over her, and shit, maybe I am too, in my own way.
Leaving the office, I get into my car and take a deep breath before cranking it up and driving the half hour to my father’s mansion.
I punch the keycode to the gate only for it to beep and turn red.
Frowning, I try it again.
I groan and get out of my car, stalking up to the gate.
The guard must be new. I don’t recognize him, at least.
“Yes?”
Apparently, he doesn’t recognize me either.
I huff. “Keycode isn’t working.”
He shrugs. “Boss must have changed it. If you don’t have the code, chances are he doesn’t want you around here.”
I grit my teeth.
My father is always hiring new talent, young kids who barely know their asses from holes in the ground. He doesn’t ask for my approval, and he’s grown increasingly paranoid as his mind started to fray.
Still, this fucker should know who he’s talking to.
I pinch my nose between my index and middle fingers. “You’re new and you don't know who I am, but I should warn you that I’m not a patient man. Let me in.”
The guard walks closer to the gate and leans in, rolling his eyes. “Oh, I’m sure you’re very important.”
I know I shouldn’t lose it. I know that I’m capable of keeping control. But I also know that is a lost cause today.
Between everything I’m feeling for Isla, my father losing his mind, and this Maggie Sullivan situation, my nerves are shot.
I jut out my left arm, grabbing his shirt collar, pulling him tight against the gate, preventing him from moving much as my right hand presses my gun to his temple.
“Now, let’s try this again, shall we? My name is Liam Hayes, and if you don’t let me in right the fuck now, I’ll make sure to take my sweet time with you before sending you home in pieces to your family as thanks for your service, however brief.”
The thought of carving my name on his face so he’ll never forget me again makes my mouth twitch.
I hate the violence that comes with this life, but this guy is testing my patience.
He chokes, his eyes widening. “You're Ronan’s son?”
I let him go, putting my gun away, and he nearly falls down before righting himself.
I start walking back to my car. “Tick tock.”
He rushes to press the button for the gate, mumbling apologies.
Fucking useless piece of shit.
If I wasn’t in a hurry to meet Isla after this, he’d learn his lesson the hard way.
Still fuming, I speed through the gates and park in front of the house, taking the front steps two at a time.
My father may be ailing, but someone will still answer for not giving me the code.
I walk in to my father shouting and glass shattering against the wall. I rush up the stairs only to find his nurse, Maria, coming out of his room, crying with her face in her hands.
I put a hand on her arm. “What happened?”
She shakes her head. “It’s just... it’s a bad day, Liam.”
My heart drops. Even on his worst days, Da is rarely mean to Maria. She has been my father’s home healthcare nurse for the last two years, and she’s become part of the family.
I’ve really got my work cut out for me.
“Take a drive. Clear your head. I’ll stay with him.”
She nods and hurries down the stairs, clearly needing a break.
I watch her go, frowning and trying to gather myself, pushing down the irritation about the code. I’ll deal with that later.
I knock on Da’s bedroom door, not wanting to get hit in the face with a flying piece of furniture.
“What do you want? I told you to leave me alone, Penelope.”
I freeze at the sound of my dead mother’s name.
A bad day, indeed.
I slowly open the door, peeking inside, and he’s sitting up in bed, his arms crossed over his chest like a sullen child.
God, he looks so old, beaten down by his illness, the lines on his face more pronounced, his eyes dull.
“Stacks!” His voice grows cheerful as he looks at me.
For some reason, my father often mistakes me for his childhood best friend. Stacks had been shot in the chest on their first mission together, and my father has never forgiven him.
“Hey, boss,” I mumble, knowing the drill.
“God, you haven’t visited me in a dog’s ear.”
“Aye.” I pause. “You look unwell, you okay?”
He scoffs. “I’m fine, just a cold I can’t seem to shake. Trying to sleep it off. What are you doing here? You need a job?”
I shake my head, clearing my throat as I get closer, sitting next to my father’s bedside in a chair. My heart too heavy in my chest, dragging me down.
I’ve never had the best relationship with him, but seeing him fall so far from who he used to be still hurts.
“I wanted to talk to you about that redheaded gal, Maggie?” I keep my voice low and even, not wanting him to get upset if he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.
Da frowns, his brow furrowing. “Ah, right. Maggie. She’s the one snitching to Cormac, aye?”
“Aye.” My shoulders drop a notch. . “I’ve found her.”
His eyes, blue like mine, light up. “Did you, now? Was she hard to wrangle? Where is she?”
“Dead.”
He huffs out a breath. “She’s not dead. She’s just in hiding. Maggie’s a spitfire, Stacks, you know that.”
Stacks, of course, never knew that, because he was long dead before Maggie Sullivan had ever come along, but I need to play along.
“Aye, but even a spitfire can’t survive a bullet in the head.” I pull out my briefcase and place the pictures and death certificate in his lap.
He looks down at it, his mind seeming to clear. “Dead? After all this time we’ve spent looking?” Da curses in Gaelic. “Aye, well, I guess you can clean out the cottage, then.”
I freeze. “What do you mean, clean it out?”
Does he know about Isla? Is he about to drop a bomb on me?
He waves his hand dismissively, letting the papers in his lap fall onto the floor.
I pick them up and scoop them back into the briefcase.
“Aye, your mother has been on my arse to clean out the basement for years. You can do it for me, Liam, since I’m sick with this bloody cold?” He looks up at me expectantly, his eyes glazed and far away, but he recognizes me.
My heart flips in my chest.
I hate that it still means so much to me when he finally recognizes me, but I suppose a son always loves his father. Or at least craves the recognition.
I nod slowly. “I’ve got it, Da. I’ll get it cleaned out.”
Of course, we’d cleared out the basement when she died. For all the years she’d complained to Da about it, he didn’t do it until after she was gone.
There’s nothing I can do about Da not understanding that Maggie is gone. All I can do now is keep him from finding out Isla exists.
“Good.” He settles down in the bed, pulling the sheets up over his chest, and he’s snoring in seconds.
I watch him for a moment, watch his chest rise and fall and wonder what it would be like if he’d been a good man, a good father.
Would I still feel this conflict in my heart about how to feel about him? Or would this illness be even more devastating?
Either way, you live with the lot you get, as my mother always said.
I stand up and walk into the hallway, gently closing the door.
Maria’s back already, standing in the hallway. “I-I’m sorry I left. I just... it’s been so hard lately, Liam. So many bad days.”
“Aye. I understand.” I reach into my wallet and press a folded wad of cash, whatever I have in my wallet, probably around fifteen hundred, into her hand.
She pushes it back. “You’ve already paid me for the week, Liam—”
“A bonus,” I insist. “For all the bad days.”
Maria gives me a weak smile and places the money into her scrub pocket. “You’re too good to me.”
“You’re too good to him.”
Without saying goodbye to my father or Maria, I walk downstairs and get back into my car, staring straight ahead for a long moment.
I don’t think I’ll see Isla at all, tonight. I need to be alone.