Mila’s cheeks are flushed, her fingers tapping out an absent rhythm on the edge of the couch as she looks at her cards. “Okay, what have you got?”
I lay down my cards, and Mila curses at my third winning hand in a row.
Mila narrows her eyes. "You’re hustling me."
"It's because you have a terrible poker face. You’ve always been easy to beat, ever since freshman year.”
“At least we’re not playing for real money; otherwise, I might have to ask for a loan.”
I force a laugh, but it does little to ease the tension in the room.
Stephen is even quieter than usual as he stands just inside the doorway to the lounge, his arms folded and his eyes sharp as he surveys the room.
I’ve tried to catch his eye a few times to offer him a smile, but he’s avoiding my gaze. I try not to take it personally, considering the fact that he needs to keep his focus.
Kieran, on the other hand, radiates nothing but restless energy, pacing back and forth in front of the window like a caged predator. Every few steps, he stops to glance over at Mila and me before returning his gaze to the window, squinting into the darkness as his hand hovers over the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans.
It’s unnerving having your own home feel like a cage and every shadow feel like a threat.
Mila gathers the cards. “Do you want another game?”
I know she needs the distraction just as much as I do, so I nod. I’m well aware that the stress I’m feeling right now isn’t good for the baby, so I try my best to keep my breathing steady, but my mind isn’t so easily fooled.
Until Ronan walks through the front door, I won’t be able to relax.
I glance at Kieran, noting his clenched jaw. Though he doesn’t say a word, I can see the storm simmering beneath his calm exterior. It’s the same storm I see in Ronan, silent but deadly.
Mila catches my eye and offers me a shaky smile that I force myself to return, though what I really want to do is stand on the coffee table and scream at the top of my lungs for everyone to get the hell out of my house.
The security is suffocating.
When they are on their regular posts, they are easy to ignore, since I hardly come across them. But now?
Four guards stand posted in the foyer with another two outside the door to the lounge, the soft hum of their radios constantly crackling in the background.
Mila shuffles the cards a little too long. “Do you think Ronan will figure it out? Who’s behind all this, I mean?”
I swallow hard.
“He has to, for all our sakes.” But even as I say it, the doubt claws at me.
Ronan’s pride keeps him from showing weakness, but I could hear the desperation in his voice when I called him earlier.
The attack at the safe house has raised the stakes, and it’s only a matter of time before the mole takes out someone closer to Ronan.
Someone like me.
Kieran turns to us. “He will take care of it.”
I glance over at him. “I know.”
He offers me a curt nod before returning to his spot in front of the window.
I take the cards from Mila and start handling them because I need something to take my mind off my racing heart. But my palms are sweaty, and half of the cards end up all over the floor.
“Crap.” I reach down to pick them up, and a searing pain in my stomach has me crying out.
“Ciara?” Mila reaches for me.
