“Is that so?” Brendan takes a moment to digest that information, no idea why. Surely Cian told him I’ve been attempting to contact him, right?
Brendan continues walking, and I catch up with him. We enter a smaller building that I’ve only been in once. Old, abandoned car parts and tools take up space in the front room. At first glance, it’s nothing more than a storage shed, but through a thick metal door lies theotherroom.
Brendan’s keys jingle as he finds the right one for this lock. I’m half curious, half apprehensive.
“Is Cian questioning someone?” I don’t know if I want to interrupt him if he’s doingthattype of work.
“Mmm,” Brendan murmurs, noncommittally, as he opens the door. “After you.”
Cautiously, I enter. The central space is set up for interrogations. A chair sits over a large drain in the middle of the room beneath a single hanging light. This concrete floor has seenso much blood and gore that it’s discolored—more so near that drain. I’m relieved to find the single chair unoccupied.
Two holding cells are situated off to either side. They’re open to the main area so anyone being held captive gets a front row seat to whoever’s being questioned.
I turn to Brendan. “Where?—?”
“Ravenna!” Cian shouts, immediately drawing my attention to one of the holding cells.
I rush to him. “Cian! What’s happened? Why are you in there?”
“Leave. Now. Get out of here!” He gazes over my head. “If you touch her, I’ll kill you.”
Brendan slowly approaches us. “I already told you my plans for her. You should be more concerned about yourself.”
I face Brendan. “Release my husband this instant.”
Dark amusement blossoms in his eyes. “So bold. Fearless, aren’t you? I can't wait to break you.”
My lips part, but no sound emerges. I’m anything but fearless. I don’t know how this happened, but Cian’s being held prisoner by his own men. Brendan seems to be in charge now. How? Why?
Dread slithers beneath my skin. The danger of my situation sinks in just as Brendan grabs a handful of my hair and pulls me away from Cian. Pain sears my scalp. I claw at his wrists, but he doesn’t care, even as I draw blood.
He pats me down with his free hand, stealing my new phone from my pocket. It’s the only thing I have on me.
“Let her go!” Cian reaches through the bars, his glare pinned on Brendan.
“I was hoping you’d come for O’Rourke,” he murmurs in my ear. “He’s the best trap I could have laid for you.” He licks the shell of my ear. I cringe. “Got you, little vixen.”
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll let us go, then run far, far away,” I warn, despite being at his mercy.
He laughs. “That’s not how this is going to play out. I’m in charge here. You’ll be a good girl and do as I say. For now, I need you to behave.” He drags me by my hair to the cell beside Cian’s. Tears sting my eyes, a sharp pain splinters my skull. Then he shoves me to the cold, hard floor. Rusty hinges screech as he locks me inside.
“I’ll be watching.” Brendan points toward a camera mounted high on the opposite wall. With one last glance at us, he leaves, securing the outside door behind him.
“Are you hurt?” Cian crouches down, gaze alight with fury and concern.
I crawl to him, resting my shoulder against the bars that separate us. “I’m fine. Tell me what in the hell is going on.”
In light of Cian’s imprisonment, what I came here to speak with him about can wait. I need to know what’s happened, so we can rescue ourselves before this goes any further. Before one or both of us end up dead.
“Brendan’s behind it all—everything from the perfume and jewelry, to Devlin. He’s been the one making me think I’m being haunted by Fiona. He drove us apart,” Cian explains, his tone both furious and defeated.
“Why?” What does Brendan have to gain?
“He’s Fiona’s little brother. He wants vengeance.”
Oh. That explains a lot. “You didn’t know she had a brother?”
“I did. But he was much younger, away at boarding school, and I never met him. I certainly didn’t expect him to infiltrate the Gaelic Devils on a many years long revenge scheme.”
