She’s given me the one thing I haven’t had since I was a boy—a moment of peace where my mother is concerned. When we leave here, and my mother is once again alone with the evil that is Cian Lynch, at least it will console her knowing I have a good woman at my side. Ma won’t have to go to bed worrying about me being on my own to deal with Cian forever, which is more than I can say for her.
It disarms me in a way no other person has ever been able to. Wrecks me completely.
No one in this world has ever had the ability to cut me off at the knees like this.
Except for maybe Cian.
And isn’t it a terrifying thought that my little wife has as much power over me as the man who’s had me by the balls for most of my life?
Their conversation continues as they stroll through the garden as Ma shows Catriona her favorite varieties: snow drops, daffodils, primrose, bluebells, buttercups, and a half-dozen others in addition to what seems like every variety of rose under the sun. I trail behind, letting the sight of them together center me.
“These are lovely,” Catriona says, stopping to sniff a fat yellow rose with her eyes closed. “I can’t believe you tend to them yourself. I’m afraid I have a black thumb. I get so excited that I buy everything in the store and six weeks later, it’s like a massacre.”
My ma laughs. She fuckinglaughs.
“Why don’t I give you some tips? As in real estate, it’s all about location…”
They talk for what feels like hours. Catriona keeps looking back at me, checking my expression, for what I’m not sure, but I give her a nod to let her continue. Ma and I could never talk like this; we've never been this comfortable outside the hugs we share when we see each other again. The man I’ve become is always at the forefront of her mind, and the atrocities she’s had to endure for me or because of me are at the forefront of mine.
So I don’t dare interrupt them. Instead, I drink in my ma’s expressions and stow them away to remember later. Catriona doesn’t bring up the truth about our wedding, though Ma must have some idea. She talks about school and how much she’s been struggling since her mother died. They share another long hug, because Ma’s always been the empathetic sort, unable to stand by when someone else is suffering.
By the time night has truly fallen and the gardens are lit only by moonlight, my chest aches something fuckin’ awful. Notonly because I don’t know if I’ll ever experience this again, but because the sound of footsteps reaches my ear.
Cian’s here.
CHAPTER 29
CATRIONA
“Isee you started the family reunion without us, sweetheart.”
Everything inside me screams to get Mary and Aiden out of here—shield them, hide them, kill the man stepping onto the gravel path in front of us—but one glance at Cian’s eyes locks my knees into place. He’s got two armed men at his side because of course he does. Aiden may be ruthless and a trained killer, but going against three armed men? I wouldn’t want him to risk it.
“Cian,” Mary says, her eyes growing duller with each passing second. She pulls her arm out of mine. Her calm seems unnatural. How can she face him without cowering in his presence? Especially after all this time as the recipient of his brutality?
Cian’s mouth curves, but on him it’s not a smile. It contains no warmth. No emotion. Just the threat of teeth.
As though by wordless instruction, Mary leaves us to go to Cian’s side. Her movements are careful—is she hurt?—and her breathing is even more measured. She tilts her cheek to him, herlips pressed into a line, and he presses a perfunctory kiss to her brow.
But his gaze never strays from me.
Aiden shifts closer, instinctively sliding an arm around my waist. It’s a claiming I’m not certain is altogether wise, but Cian only grunts, the cold blue chips of his eyes raking over us. They glimmer with anticipation.
“Well,” he says, his voice smooth as oil. “Let’s not keep everyone waiting.”
He spins, taking Mary along with him, and it takes everything in me to keep from ripping her from his grasp. She seems so fragile compared to his formidable presence. Like he could swallow her up. Or maybe that he already has.
My temples throb, and the only thing keeping me upright is the grip Aiden has around my waist. A sense of foreboding turns my muscles to jelly. We shouldn’t have come here. We should have figured something else out. They’re going to kill us. I know with an innate sense of certainty. Cian wanted Aiden humiliated and broken. Ready to walk into his death on a false mission to save his mother.
I forget how to breathe.
How are we going to get out of this?
We never should have gotten on the plane.
I try to think of a play, something to get the three of us out of here alive, but I come up with nothing. Aiden’s hand tightens around me, and it grounds me, but only a little. Nothing is going to save us from bullets if they decide to put a few in our brains.
Finally, we end up at a pair of double doors after a long march through labyrinthine hallways. Cian pushes them open to a dining room that feels more like a tribunal than anything else. The table stretches the length of the room and is filled with harsh, cruel faces. The heads of each Clan and their bodyguards? I don’t know. I try to remember the names of each of them, butdraw a blank. Then I recognize the ones who’d been in the room. Who’d watched us. Fear crests through me. There are so many of them.
