Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
DARE
I wake up at my desk, again, and I groan at the banging on the door.
This better not become a thing.
The banging doesn’t stop.
It has to be Cillian; he’s the only guy I know who knocks on the door, harder than the goddamn police.
“Hold your fucking horses. I’m coming.” I stumble, knocking over beer bottles on the way to the door and jerk it open.
Cillian stands there with a frown already on his face, his brow furrowed.
“Any news?” he asks before he even gets in the door.
I shake my head and go back to my desk, staring at the screen requesting the password to access the cameras in Cormac Callahan’s house.
I have five tries every twenty-four hours, and I’m putting every one of them to good use. I have two more tries still, this round.
“I’ve tried every combination of his wife’s name, every combination of his name, his birthday, her birthday, wedding date, his fucking dog’s name.” What should have taken me hours to access is taking days.
I hate that she is alone, and we can’t even be sure where she is, and it’s all my fucking fault. “Why are we even doing this? We know she has to be in the mansion. Why hasn’t Liam made a move?”
“He wants to be sure. Because if we go in there and she is not there, they’ll know we want her, and they’ll kill her, and that is something none of us can live with.”
It makes sense. I get it. And I know Cill has to play the devil’s advocate here. But at the same time, I’m itching to get to Isla. She’s pregnant and alone and scared.
And I bet she is even doubting we are coming for her. Well, maybe not Cill, but me and Liam for sure.
I sit down at the desk, glaring at the screen.
“Dare. This place is a wreck.”
“You gonna hire me a maid? Or maybe you want to clean it up yourself. If that’s the case, have at it.” I shoot back, although there’s no bite in it. I’m too tired to be full-on bitchy.
“Whatever.” Cillian sighs.
I type another guess into the computer, and it dings that it’s the wrong one.
Fuck. I have one try left today.
“Dare, maybe you should take a break.”
I shake my head. “No. I know I’m close.”
I’m not even really talking to him, and he knows it, so he doesn’t respond.
“Have you eaten today?” His eyes roam through the room, likely taking in all the empty bottles and the lack of food containers.
“Sure.” I haven’t eaten since she was taken from us. Even before that, when she was gone. Half a slice of pizza is the last thing I remember eating, but I’m sure as shit not going to tell him that.
Cillian’s like a mother hen, always checking in on me.
At least Liam leaves me the fuck alone.
He knows how important this is. How important it is to find Isla before something unimaginable happens to her.
Cillian should know that too, but he’s too busy trying to take care of me and Liam. Maybe that’s his way of coping, but it gets on my nerves.
Isla and the baby are the only things that matter.
“Right. Have you slept?”
I groan and turn to him, glaring. “Are you just going to interrogate me or is there another reason you’re here?"
“Dare, you’re running yourself ragged. You won’t be able to help us when we do find Isla if you don’t stop and take care of yourself.”
“I’m fine, Cillian. Just...get out of here, would you? Let me work.”
“You’ve been working non-stop since she was taken from us, and we haven’t gotten any closer—”
“I’m trying, okay? I’m doing the best I can because I know all of this is my fucking fault, Cill!” My voice raises and trembles at the same time, and I’m horrified to feel tears burning at the backs of my eyes.
Cillian freezes, and I turn back to my computer, staring at the screen, watching that goddamn cursor blinking.
One more try. That’s all I have before I have to fucking sit and wait and despair for hours on end.
I have to make this count.
He kneels down beside me, and I still won’t look at him.
“Dare. It’s not your fault. We were all down there at the bar, not having any idea that Cormac was in town.”
“I was so angry with her.” My voice breaks again, and I hate myself.
I hate myself for not being stronger. I hate myself for being angry with her in the first place. And why? Because she might have chosen someone else? Because she left a place where she was imprisoned?
Cillian puts a hand on my shoulder, and I take a shaky breath.
“Don’t.”
Then he hugs me, and I break down, crying into his chest like a fucking girl.
After a couple of moments, I pull away, straightening up and sniffling. I wipe a hand across my face. “I’ve still got work to do.”
“You need food and rest, Dare. You look like shit.”
I know he’s right. I’ve seen the bags under my eyes, the stubble on my jaw, the clothes I haven’t changed in three days.
Feeling slightly better since Cillian comforted me, I switch tactics, looking up Cormac’s wife in every database I can think of—hospitals in the area, gym memberships, anything. I don’t know how this is going to end up being important, but it’s all I can do.
Cillian crosses his arms over his chest. “If I have to physically carry you to bed, I will.”
“Just try it.” But I’m distracted, and there’s no edge to my voice.
I’m researching everything, looking for anything and everything that might give me a clue, when finally, something pops up on the screen.
A hospital visit. Sixteen years ago. The patient: Matilda Grace Callahan.
His wife’s dead, so it isn’t her death that interests me. It’s the hospital visit all those years ago.
I narrow my eyes, scanning the medical reports, and finally, it clicks.
“Cormac has a child.”
Cillian straightens up, standing up to his full height. “He has a what?”
Cormac paid for the visit with an alias’s credit card, but he didn’t think to use an alias for his wife, who we all knew because he’d paraded her around the whole time they were married.
But a child?
He must have kept the kid locked away.
I can’t exactly blame him. I want to do the same with Isla and the baby, especially after all this.
It takes me another half hour to find the birth certificate, and Cillian stands behind me the whole time, watching with an expression of almost awe on his face.
Irene Callahan.
I take a deep breath. This is it, my last chance of the day.
My breath catches in my throat as I type “Irene” into the password bar, and it starts to load.
If this doesn’t work, I’ll be locked out until tomorrow.
The camera feeds start to pop up on my screen, and I whoop.
“I always thought you were smart, but this is crazy, Dare. You’re a genius.”
I’m not listening. I’m scanning the cameras and then... there it is.
The feed isn’t great quality, but I can still make out her form.
Isla sits on a bed, playing cards with a smaller girl. Probably Irene herself.
My feelings of victory slowly dissipate.
Isla really is at Cormac’s mansion.
I can’t see her face, can’t tell if she’s hurt or not, but it gives me some hope that she’s playing cards.
“Shit,” Cillian mutters. “I was almost hoping she wasn’t there.”
“Me too.” I send the camera feed to my laptop, knowing that Liam will want to see it.
Cormac is going down, there is no doubt in my mind. The question is who is going down with him.
We’ve won a battle by killing men at Cormac’s warehouses. We’re gearing up for war, and Cormac’s security will be tight. In fact, there’s at least a dozen men patrolling the area.
There’s no way we can even get onto the estate without a full-on army.
Despair and exhaustion settle over me. “What are we going to do?”
“We're going to call Liam, get him over here.” Cillian wrinkles his nose as I stand. “And you’re going to shower. You smell like stale beer and regret.”
I bark out a laugh, unable to help myself. “Aye.”
I head to the shower and groan under the hot spray.
Cillian was right. It’s been too long since I’ve showered, eaten, or slept. I’m going to have to start taking care of myself because I need to be there for Isla.
I think about what Liam said: She’s ours, isn’t she?
Can I share her? Honestly, all I want right now is to get her back. I can deal with my complicated feelings about the situation later.