“Do you wish they did or wish that you didn’t?”
His question makes me pause. It isn’t at all what I expect him to ask. I take a deep breath, and I tell him exactly what I’m thinking.
“Both and neither,” I say. “I wish I could just do normal things and be naive, but I can’t imagine not knowing what is happening around me.”
“We don’t get the luxury to ignore anything, but at least we aren’t doing it alone,” he says as he places another kiss on my neck before he pulls back and turns to look at the section he knows I want to go to. It’s dark, romantic, and inviting.
After about fifteen minutes of sitting on different couches and testing the softness, Ronan walks over and whispers something in Callum's ear. He tenses up, and I straighten as I wait for him to speak. His jaw is clenched so tight I can see every muscle flexing as he tries to hold back his anger. He turns to look at me, and I wait as he crosses the room with his fists clenched at his sides.
“So, we have an issue, but you don’t have to deal with it right now if you don’t want to.”
I raise my eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.
“Nessa is trying to come up here. I don’t know how she found us or why she’s even here, for that matter. I can have the guys keep her out, but it’s ultimately your call.”
His silent question hangs right there at the end of that statement. My call. He hates her, yet he’s allowing me to make the choice.
“Tell them to let her up, but she isn’t allowed to bring anything with her. She needs to be frisked. I don’t want to take any chances with her.”
He’s trying not to look surprised, but he fails—a hint of a grin on his face. Ronan doesn’t need Callum to relay the information. He walks down by himself to retrieve her. I raise my eyebrow, and he pulls his lips between his teeth, trying to hide the full-blown smile that consumes his expression. I step toward him, his hands in his pockets, lookingdelicious, his forearms flexing. Reaching up, I grab his face with one hand, squeezing it.
“You’ve been looking forward to this, haven’t you?” I ask.
“Oh, you have no idea,” he answers, his expression shifting to a menacing, dark gleam.
Chapter 21
Callum
Perdu (adj) remaining out of sight; concealed
21 Years Old
“What do you mean you don’t see her?” I growled into the phone as I marched towards my car. How in the fuck did they lose her? They aren’t even supposed to take their eyes off of her in the first place.
“Boss, she went into the ladies’ room and didn’t come back out, so we went to check. She was just gone,” one of the younger guys who worked for us said nervously into the phone.
I grit my teeth and hung up without responding, then immediately called Orin.
Shit. No answer.
I tried calling Ronan. No answer.
What. The. Fuck.
I slammed the car door and slung it into drive, peeling out of the parking lot. I called Eoin next, and thank fuck he answered.
“Have you heard from Ronan or Orin?” I asked hastily.
“No, not for a few hours, why?”
My blood went cold, and I could feel the anger and panic build in my chest. I didn’t realize he was calling my name or how long I had zoned out.
“What?” I shouted harshly.
“What’s going on?” Eoin asked, concern lacing his voice.
“I can’t get a hold of either of them, and they were watching Maeve at some frat party on campus. They took a few of the younger guys with them to blend into the crowd, and no one has seen her in half an hour.”
