“Ciara, you’re going to be okay.”
“Okay…” I whisper.
Cutting the call with Mila and Ronan feels sickening, but I need to hurry and pack us both a bag so we can leave the moment Kieran arrives. I have no idea how long we’ll be at the safe house, and I want to make sure we’ve at least got some clean underwear and a toothbrush.
“That will have to do.” I zip up the duffel bag, throw it over my shoulder, and head downstairs to where Stephen is waiting outside on the front steps.
“You good?” He reaches for the bag and shoulders the weight for me.
I nod, though I feel anything but good right now.
“Just want to get out of here.” I glance around, half-expecting a group of armed men to jump out from behind the hedges and shoot me dead.
“I don’t blame you.”
“I take it Ronan called you?”
Stephen nods.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?”
“Ronan has everything under control.” But Stephen doesn’t look at me as he speaks.
We stand in silence until headlights wash over the front of the house, and a sleek, black SUV pulls into the driveway. Its matte paint and bulletproof windows will be the only thing keeping Mila, myself, and my baby safe as we make the journeyto the safe house, and I can’t help but fear that it won’t be enough.
Kieran kills the engine and steps out of the vehicle in one fluid motion.
He’s swapped out his usual tailored suit for a black Henley and dark jeans, but he still radiates the kind of energy that makes people nervous. He’s like a weapon with the safety off.
“Thanks for coming.”
His eyes land on me, and I try to meet his gaze, but it’s hard not to flinch under the weight of it.
“Get in. Quickly.”
He grabs the duffel bag from Stephen and throws it in the trunk like it weighs nothing.
I offer Stephen a brief smile before heading around the car to the passenger side door, but I pause.
“Kieran—”
He cuts me off with a look as he slams the trunk shut. “Not here, Ciara.”
There’s something about the way he says my name. It’s not quite warm, but it’s not cold either. Just clipped and controlled, like him. Everything about Kieran is tightly wound, as if he's one wrong word away from exploding.
I decide not to push him, so I open the door and climb in.
“Ciara,” Mila chokes, throwing her arms around me before I’m even in my seat.
I hold her tightly, trying my hardest not to fall apart in front of her.
“Everything is going to be okay.”
“Seatbelts on,” Kieran orders before shutting my door.
Mila and I do as he says without question, and I keep hold of Mila’s hand, needing the comfort just as much as she does, as Kieran starts the engine.
The silence is thick, save for the soft click of the locks engaging once he pulls onto the road, but I can’t think of anything to say to break it.
