Chapter 48
Chapter Forty-Eight
LIAM
Something’s wrong. This is taking too long. We were supposed to be out in fifteen minutes, but it’s been more than forty.
Cormac’s phone has been buzzing on the desk for twenty of those minutes, but thank God, he’s ignoring it.
“How’s Ronan doing? Haven’t heard from the old fart in a while.” He chuckles, pouring himself another drink.
I haven’t touched mine.
My throat is so dry it feels like I have no saliva at all.
I clear it before I speak. “He's fine.”
Cormac hums. “There have been some rumors.”
I still but keep my face blank. “What kind of rumors?”
“That he’s not well. Of course, I don't believe that. They always try to push us older clan leaders out when the new generation comes along. Unfortunately, my Matilda Grace didn’t give me a son.”
It’s interesting how carefully he says that.
I know now he has a daughter, and the only way I can think of to stall him from picking up his phone is to mention it.
“You don’t have any children at all, do you?”
Cormac looks at me for a long moment, his eyes hard. “Aye.”
I blink, surprised that he’s confessing it. “Aye? Since when?”
“I’ll level with you, Liam. My girl is sixteen and still dumb as a rock. I suppose it’s my fault, keeping her locked away from the world, homeschooling her. Hell, I never made it through high school myself.”
“You have a daughter?”
He nods. “She got my looks, too, unfortunately.” He grins. “I know I’m a handsome devil, but on a girl’s face, it doesn’t quite work.”
A shiver of revulsion runs through me.
If this is the way he treats his own daughter, what has he done to Isla?
I swallow hard and wrack my brain for another stalling tactic.
“You hid her away for all these years? Why? To protect her?”
Cormac snorts. “No. Because I’m ashamed of her. Would you let the world know you have an ugly, stupid daughter?”
I grit my teeth. “I guess not.”
If Isla’s baby is mine, I’m sure it will be beautiful, but even if it isn’t, I would still think the same way.
Sympathy spreads through me for the poor little girl. But still, Cormac made her name his password, so I suppose he has some feelings toward her.
Either that or he just knew it would be difficult to guess.
A commotion sounds from outside, and Cormac opens his desk drawer and pulls out a gun before I can even react.
Fuck.
I hold my hands up, playing dumb. “What’s going on?”
Cormac grins wider. “You’ve come after your girl, aye?”
My blood runs cold, and I can practically feel the blood drain from my face. “What the hell are you talking about?”
I keep my hands in the air.
He wiggles the gun as if gesturing to me. “I’ve seen you, had surveillance at that old cottage your father always used as a safehouse. He and I used to be close, you know.”
I did know that. In fact, Cormac and my father had built their empire together and then had a falling out. Over a woman, allegedly—Cormac's wife, who was once my father’s mistress.
Cormac had married her, kept her locked away for years other than when he paraded her around at events. She hadn’t been allowed to even go to the bathroom without a guard, but the cancer took her anyway.
What I didn’t know was that he had eyes on us this whole time.
“You’ve been fucking her, haven’t you? Our Magpie. She’s quite the looker, isn’t she? Bonny.”
“Listen, all I want is the girl. Your fight is with my da, not me.”
“Not much of a fight at all in his condition. I’ve seen his medical records, boyo. Dementia.” He tsks. “Hell of a thing. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy—who also happens to be Ronan.”
“You know that if you kill me, my father will come after you.”
He barks out a laugh, which echoes in the quiet room.
Where the hell is Cillian?
Panic rises in me.
I have to keep stalling. If Cormac kills me, we’ll never rescue Isla.
And something must be terribly wrong.
Cillian is a machine, but Reese O’Connell is huge and well-trained.
Maybe it was him?
I still. “Where’s Reese? Doesn’t he usually do your dirty work for you?”
“Reese is occupied. Maybe having a laugh with that bonny girl of yours. She doesn’t like him much after he roughed her up a bit.”
I freeze, rage rushing through me, making my heart beat too hard against my chest plate.
Reese is as mean as he is big and doesn’t follow any moral code. If he’s with Isla...
I want to jump over the desk and kill Cormac with my bare hands for letting Reese anywhere near her.
All I can hope is that he didn’t break her.
“After all these years, you and your men are still reckless.”
“Reckless?” Cormac tilts his head but keeps the gun trained on me.
“Aye. Reckless. You can’t just do what you want, especially with women and children.”
“I’ve never harmed a child.”
“What about your daughter?”
Cormac’s jaw tightens. “Don’t fucking talk about my daughter.”
“Thought you didn’t care. Thought you were ashamed of her.”
“I am, but that doesn’t mean I want her harmed.”
“Instead, you just emotionally abuse her. Probably verbally, too, aye? Tell her she’s ugly and stupid, that she’ll never find anything outside this mansion.”
“My daughter is none of your business!” Cormac’s voice raises, and he leans forward over the desk.
Good. The closer he gets, the easier it’ll be to potentially disarm him.
“This isn’t about my daughter,” he continues. “This is about Ronan, and what he did to me. I can’t get to him, not with all the men in the Hayes clan.”
“So, killing his son is your next best thing?”
“Aye. I just hope he’s coherent enough to feel it when you die.” He cocks his gun, and I know this is it. It’s over.
Cormac’s done talking, despite my attempts to stall. He knows what I’m trying to do. He knows what we’re planning.
Everything’s cocked up, and it’s all my fault.
I never thought this plan was foolproof, but I didn’t know it would end so quickly.
Squeezing my eyes shut, all I see is Isla’s hazel eyes with the green flecks around her pupils.
Her under me, arching her back, her reading a book I recommended, flipping the pages with her delicate fingers.
Her laughing at Dare’s antics, sitting next to Cillian with her head on his shoulder while he sings her an Irish ditty.
I imagine the future that will never be, Isla’s belly swollen with child, Isla in a wedding dress, Isla holding a newborn baby.
All those milestones, the baby taking their first steps, the baby saying their first words. Everything I’ll never get to experience.
Isla, I love you. I’m sorry.