Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
DARE
I’m drunk, but it’s not numbing me out like I want. I just feel shitty, maudlin, thinking of all the good times with Isla.
There were so many good times, despite how she left us, how she played all of us.
Even Cillian is having another drink, ordered a pitcher for us, and I drank half of it before I went silent.
Cillian and Liam are talking about babies, or rather Cillian is talking, and Liam is sitting there, swaying slightly in his seat, his face sullen.
I’ve never heard Cillian talk this much, and frankly, it pisses me off. I can tell he’s sure she’s going to choose him, all because he didn’t spin out when she told us she was pregnant.
Can we even believe that she’s pregnant? How can we, after all the lies she’s told? Even if she is really pregnant, we won’t know who the father is for months.
If at all.
She may just take off.
I can’t even wrap my head around it because I’m so angry with her. I never thought she’d leave like that, never thought she’d lie to us. I’d believed her from the very beginning and tried my damndest to make Liam believe her, too.
And for what? For her to end up choosing Cill?
Maybe Liam’s right. Maybe he is the best of us.
He’ll protect her, I know that. He’ll always be good to her. Maybe being a lifelong bachelor like I planned is what’s in the cards for me.
And I’ve been doing that for years, so why does it feel so bad to think of it now?
I eye the cute redhead who’s been serving us. She’s practically bouncing around, probably happy about the hundreds of dollars we’ve tipped her.
I could take her home pretty easily, know it by the slow way she grins at me and the way she’s been whispering to her co-worker while staring at me. Could probably rent a room with cash in this shitty bed and breakfast and rail her next to where Isla sleeps.
But nothing about me wants to, not even my dick. It’s like I can only get hard for Isla now, and it pisses me off.
“You’ll be good to her, Cill,” Liam slurs, leaning against him in the booth.
I huff out a breath and take Liam’s half-empty beer glass from him, handing it to the redhead who beams at me and takes it back to the bar.
“You should have already cut him off; you know he doesn’t drink.”
“I’m fine,” Liam says; this time he does sound a bit clearer, but it’s momentary.
He’s absolutely blasted. He won’t remember anything after Isla’s confession, I bet.
And thank God. He’s been so drunk and maudlin he’s told us all about how he feels about Isla, how she’s the only woman he’s ever felt this way for.
Liam would have never admitted that without the booze.
“Of course, I’ll be good to her. But you could be good to her, too, Liam.” Cillian’s nicer than I am. I’d be gloating if Isla chose me.
I hate him.
“What happened between you and Isla while you were up there alone?” I’m belligerent, but I can’t seem to stop myself. I blame it on the booze and anger. “Did you fuck her?”
“Don’t. You’ll upset him,” Liam says weakly, and Cillian glares at me with his freakishly light eyes.
I scoff. “You’re talking about him like he’s a baby instead of a grown man.”
“I didn’t fuck her,” Cillian says, and Liam sighs, shoulders sagging, slamming his head down on the table.
I groan and move him upright again.
Liam leans against Cillian, shifting in his seat.
Cillian, the bastard, claps him on the shoulder like they’re best friends instead of rivals.
I guess Liam’s given up, so they’re friends again.
I guess I should give up, too.
Isla isn’t who I thought she was, clearly.
“I’m gonna get some air.”
I head outside of the bar, and the hot, humid summer air hits me in the face.
Wiping my brow, I look back toward the bar, seeing that Liam and Cillian aren’t following. Good.
Walking around the side of the building and into the lobby, I stalk toward the staircase.
I’m going to see Isla. We’re going to talk this out. If she’s really chosen Cill, I need to hear it from her. It’s the fucking least she can do.
And what if that’s my baby? I’ll be damned if I stand by and watch another man raise it, even if he is my best friend.
She can’t keep playing us against each other forever, and I’m going to let her have it.
Or maybe I’ll tell her I’m sorry. Maybe I’ll tell her I was wrong, that I love her anyway, because goddamn it, I do. Maybe I’ll make love to her, and maybe it'll be the last time, but it’ll be worth it.
Or maybe I’m still too angry, and I’ll fuck her up against a wall again. I don’t know.
My head is spinning and not just from the alcohol.
I walk upstairs and open the door.
It’s unlocked but oddly quiet.
Has she gone back to sleep again? All this time I thought she was sick; she was just knocked up.
She’s not in the bedroom. She’s not in the bathroom. She’s not on the balcony.
My breath catches in my throat. She fucking left.
Again.
I yell but manage not to punch any more walls or people. Yet, anyway. My knuckles still ache from before.
I have to go and tell the others.
Liam won’t be any help, but we can put him in the back seat, and Cillian hasn’t had more than a drink and a beer, so he’ll be fine to drive.
We’ll find her before she can do this to us again.
Because there’s no way in hell I’m giving up Isla Quinn without a fight, no matter how little she cares.
I practically jump down the stairs, two at a time, to get back to Cillian and Liam, but a glint of silver catches my eye.
A bracelet lies between the staircase and the lobby door.
I crouch down and pick it up, and my heart plummets.
It’s Isla’s bracelet, one I’d made her custom, with a charm that reads “D” on it. It was my way of claiming her, and I hadn’t even noticed she was still wearing it before.
Something’s wrong.
Why would she take this with her, keep it on her at all times, only to discard it now? Unless she didn’t discard it.
My mind swirls.
Fuck, I wish I wasn’t so drunk. I thought we were all safe, that Isla was safe, and I was an idiot.
I pocket the bracelet and go to the front desk.
The man ignores me until I pound my fist down on the desk.
“Yes?”
“Did you see a woman down here earlier? Brunette, leggy.”
He shrugs. “I see a lot of things.”
I glare at him, but I know his type. Smarmy, sketchy. Greedy.
I pull out my wallet and put two hundred-dollar bills on the table. “This jog your memory?”
He smiles, his whole face lighting up, and grabs the money, tucking it in his back pocket. “The one staying here, right?”
I nod tightly.
“She left with an older gentleman a few hours ago. Went out the back door. They looked like they were arguing.”
Alarm bells are going off in my head, making my headache worse.
God knows when I last ate, and I’m certainly not at my best.
I don’t thank him, just whirl around and push through the doors of the bar.
Cillian’s laughing out loud at something Liam said while Liam is just staring at him.
I grit my teeth, panic climbing up my throat as I grab Cillian’s shoulder.
“We gotta go. Right now.”
“What? We’re not going anywhere. Isla is—”
“Gone.”
Liam doesn’t even blink, so I’m not sure he’s even able to process what I’m saying.
Cillian just sits there, staring at me, and so I huff out a breath and heave Liam up into a standing position.
We careen toward the door, and Cillian stands up, finally helping me.
“Dare, what the fuck are you talking about? She can’t be gone—”
“Cormac. It had to be Cormac,” I say hurriedly, frustrated. “They’ve been gone for a few hours; we have to find her.”
Cillian goes deathly pale, and Liam is in and out of consciousness.
Cillian and I manage to throw Liam into the back seat, and he groans but doesn’t even protest, which is how I know he’s really out of it.
“You’re not serious.”
“You can drive, right? Tell me you can drive.” There’s a pleading edge to my voice as I get into Liam’s passenger side.
Cillian finally snaps into action, getting into the driver’s side.
“I’m fine to drive. Tell me everything.” He starts the car, looking at me with haunted eyes. “Which way do I go?”
“Home,” I say quickly, and he takes off.
God, please let us find her before it’s too late.