I lift my chin. “You’ve been lying to me about what happened the night my mother died. You sabotaged your car for an alibi. I want to know why.”
“As I told you—and the police when they interviewed me—I have nothing to hide and I had nothing to do with your mother’s death.” He struggles against Tadhg’s hold, but Tadhg doesn’t let him move an inch. “Do I need to have your father speak to you about this? I’m sure he’d be interested in knowing you think I was involved. He did say you were struggling. It’s understandable after what you’ve been through. Especially considering the circumstances surrounding your mother’s death. I know these things are hell on your mental health.”
A wave of black hatred roils inside me. Even though Tadhg and Bren are a threatening presence, Devin isn’t swayed. Why did I think he’d crack so easily? Wishful thinking? He’s hiding something. I knew it. “What are you covering up? All I want is the truth.”
“You’re wasting your time with me, you stupid bitch. You’d better run along to school and keep your nose out of places where it doesn’t belong.”
“Enough,” the normally cheerful Bren snarls. He shoves me behind him and I stumble until I’m leaning against the wall next to the elevators. “You have a chance to tell her what she wants to know. You’ll have one more because we’re feeling benevolent. Tell her, or we’ll make you tell her.”
“You’ll regret it if you do,” Devin says, his face hardening. It sticks in my brain for reasons I don’t quite understand, not with adrenaline crashing through my system. He locks eyes with me. “You think you’re so smart, but you’ve got all this completely wrong. Your father was right. You’re nothing but a pathetic little slu?—”
Before he can finish the word, Bren’s fist is driving into Devin’s face with a sickening crunch. I jolt against the wall at the violence, but a part of me, as sick and twisted as the man I’m married to, delights in it. So I don’t ask Bren to stop. When Devin’s face is bloody and mangled, Tadhg nods to Bren, who finally halts.
“Tell her what she wants to know,” Tadhg orders calmly.
Devin must realize Bren isn’t going to stop, whereas there are lines I can’t—or won’t—cross. He looks at me like I’m going to save him, but I tilt my head as I wait for his answer. I may be unwilling to kill to get what I want, but I care more about justice for my mother than I do about whatever morals remain when I take murder off the table.
Maybe he’s right.
Maybe O’Connor is rubbing off on me.
I sigh when Devin clamps his mouth shut. Bren looks at me, one eyebrow quirked, and I shrug. He lays into Devin again, erasing whatever protests he must have had. It should make me sick. The most violence I’ve witnessed has been at the hands of my father. But as I watch Bren drive his fist into Devin’s face over and over again, all I feel is gratification. I know he had something to do with her death. If he won’t give me answers, then I’ll take whatever I can get. Even if it’s this.
Finally, Devin makes a sound of surrender, and Bren backs off, his chest heaving from the exertion. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he begins to lazily wipe the blood away from his knuckles. Devin is a mess. Blood streaks most of his face, hislips look like ground meat, and he probably has a broken nose, loose teeth, or worse. I can’t find it in me to feel sorry. Has this ruthless person always been inside it, and did my mother’s death and O’Connor’s influence bring it out?
“Tell me what I want to know, Devin. This is your last chance.”
Blood bubbles from his mouth as he speaks. “You don’t understand. He’ll kill me if I say a word.”
My thoughts scramble, and my knees go so weak that I have to hold the wall to stay upright. “Who will kill you? Who are you afraid of? My father? Did he have something to do with my mother’s death?”
His lips press together to form the words, and my head goes so light I legitimately worry I may pass out. “Y?—”
But he’s interrupted at the worst possible time by the elevator opening.
Frantic, I gesture to Tadhg to deal with Devin as Bren and I whirl around to see who is inside. Grunts and shuffling sounds are at my back as O’Connor appears. As though he can sense me, he lifts his head, and our eyes lock.
Fuck.
He hesitates and then seems to resign himself to a course of crossing the short distance to me. Bren tenses at my side, but O’Connor only has eyes for me. “You can help Tadhg with whatever mess she’s dragged you into. I have her now.”
“Yes, sir,” Bren says before sending me a glance full of concern.
“I—”
“Cian’s ready to meet you,” is all he has to say to get me to shut up.
“Now?” I choke out.
Instead of answering, he tugs me into the elevator. The short ride is quiet and tense. He takes my hand in his when we reachthe first floor, and then it’s a quick walk to the attached casino and another short elevator ride up to what must be his office.
I thought I was prepared for this.
But as I follow O’Connor’s tense frame, the pit in the bottom of my stomach tells me nothing could have prepared me for this.
“What does he want?” I’d tell myself it’s not a whimper, but I’d be lying. The monster I’ve built up in my head from everything I’ve learned about the man is larger than life. Thoughts of Devin and my mother are drowned out by sheer terror.
I want to cower behind O’Connor, but I force myself to straighten, throwing my shoulders back. My survival hinges on backing O’Connor’s play 100 percent, and a lifetime spent as Rory Gallagher’s perfect daughter may finally be useful.
