And it’s standing right in front of me.
Sean won’t fail again.
Brennan is staring at me, his chest heaving, his hand clenched into a fist at his side. I can see him struggling for control, trying to pull the mask back on, but it's too late. I've seen what's underneath, and there's no going back from that.
"You stupid little girl," he says finally, his voice low and dangerous. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into. No idea what kind of man you've married."
"I know exactly what kind of man I married," I manage, my voice steady despite the blood and the pain and the fear. "I married the Wolf of Dublin. And he's not anyone's prey."
Brennan's eyes narrow. "Is that what you think? That he's going to come charging in here and save you?” He smiles, slow and sinister. “I’ve changed my mind about how this is going to go. He's going to walk right into my trap, and I'm going to make him watch while I put a bullet in your head. And then I'm going to kill him, slowly, and he's going to die knowing that he failed to protect you."
"You can try," I say. "But you don't know him like I do. And you’re going to fail."
"I know he's a killer," Brennan snaps. "I know he's a monster who's murdered dozens of people in cold blood. I know he works for the Council doing their dirty work, and I know he was sent to kill me. What else is there to know?"
"You know what he does," I say. "But you don't know who he is."
Loyal. Fierce. Honorable.Those are the first words that come to mind, warring with my anger at him, with my confusion over knowing that I was an unwanted wife. An honorable man wouldn’t have done what we did last night, and yet…
Brennan laughs, but there's no humor in it. "And you do? You've been married to him for what, a few weeks? You think you know him?"
"I know he's honest about what he is," I snap. "He doesn't pretend to be something he's not. He doesn't hide behind a politician's smile and expensive suits while he uses his own family as shields. He doesn't kidnap teenage girls and then try to convince them he's the hero of the story."
"Shut up," Brennan says, but I can see I've gotten to him. There's a vein throbbing in his temple, and his hands are shaking slightly.
"You're pathetic," I continue, and I don't know where this courage is coming from, but I can't stop now. Maybe it's because I've already lost everything else, or because I'm terrified and this is the only weapon I have. Maybe it's because I've spent my whole life being quiet, and I'm done with it. "You're so desperate to be the victim here, to justify what you're doing, but we both know the truth. You're just a coward who's afraid of the man who was supposed to kill you."
Brennan moves so fast I don't have time to brace myself. He grabs my hair, yanking my head back, and leans in close enough that I can smell his cologne, expensive and cloying.
"When your husband gets here," he says, his voice barely above a whisper, "I'm going to make sure you die slowly. I'm going to make sure he hears every scream. And I'm going to make sure the last thing he sees before I kill him is the light going out of your eyes."
He releases me with a shove that makes the chair rock, and then he's walking away, his footsteps echoing in the warehouse. He pauses at the edge of the light, turning back to look at me.
"You should have taken the out I offered you," he says. "You could have walked away from this. But you chose him. You chose the monster. And now you're going to die for it."
He disappears into the shadows, and I'm left alone with the guards, my face throbbing, blood drying on my chin, and my wrists aching from the zip ties.
Sean is going to come for me. I believe that.
I just hope I can stay alive long enough for him to get here.
28
SEAN
She's gone.
I stand in the middle of the living room, staring at the door, and the words don't make sense. They won't compute. Maeve is gone. My wife is gone. The woman I pushed away, the woman I hurt because I was too fucking scared to admit what she means to me—she's gone.
And it's my fault.
My hands are shaking. I don't shake. I'm the Wolf of Dublin, I've killed men without flinching, I've stared down the barrel of a gun and smiled, but right now my hands are shaking like I'm some green kid on his first job.
I grab my jacket, gun, and phone, calling Flynn before I'm even out the door.
"Sean, it's one in the fucking morning—" In the background, I hear a feminine sound of protest, and he shushes someone.
"Maeve's missing." My voice sounds wrong, tight, and raw. "We had a fight and she… ran. Just now. I’ve got to find her…”
