My ears cleared. No more clog.
Chaos exploded inside of my skull.
It sounded like the lowest of whispers were shouts, and I had to scare off the impulse to plug my ears. Even the scents in the air were fuckin’ overwhelmin’ me. Woodsmoke from fires and the scent of an electrical storm.
For a second, I wondered if I’d been struck by lightnin’.
Then I realized it was her.
The storm of life had entered my house.
Chapter4
Maeve
Something was wrong.
My dad was in trouble, I knew it. And he was in this mansion somewhere.
My eyes collided with a hulking form at the top of the steps.
The lights in the house flickered from the power of the storm. They simultaneously cloaked him in darkness and gave him glimmers of life.
My breath caught in my throat, my hand tightened around my phone, and I involuntarily took a step back when he started to move down the stairs.
Cillian—Cian—O'Callaghan.
The Beast of Boston.
No name had ever been more perfect for a man, though it had nothing to do with the way he looked.
He was tall and muscular, probably not an ounce of fat on his imposing form. His hair was such a light brown that it bordered on dark blonde. In the sun, it probably had tons of gold specks. But it was a mess, like he hadn’t had a haircut in years. The long, messy strands hid half of his face.
The other half…
Sharp features—especially his nose and cheekbones. A dusting of hair framed his jaw. He had a few grooves on his forehead from what seemed like his eyebrows being perpetually narrowed in suspicion.
It made him seem…intense.
Cillian—Cian—O'Callaghan was beyond beautiful.
No use in denying the truth.
The one gray eye I could see, though…
It was dead.
The lights were on, but no one was home.
That was where I thought he got the name from. It was metaphorical, probably because of the way he conducted business. It didn’t seem like he’d mind tearing an entire village apart to get what he wanted. Like maybe he had Viking blood running through his veins.
I refused to move, though, even when he towered over me. Something inside of me had snapped on the drive over. I’d had enough of keeping quiet, of doing the avoidance dance with Dermot, and I wasn’t going to take it anymore.
If one of these bastards was going to kill me…I was going to go down fighting.
It had been hours since my dad had left our apartment, and he wasn’t answering his phone. I’d tracked him here. It took me longer than expected because the weather was bad, and I wasn’t familiar with the outskirts of Boston.
I’d finally found the address and found the gate broken. This place had zero lights on the outside. My dad’s stalled car took me by surprise, and I had to swerve. I’d hit a small bush in my rush down the long drive. It was surrounded by woods on either side. I ran the rest of the way on foot until I came to the mansion. The door was unlocked, so I’d let myself in.
