I'd do anything to save her. Anything.
Even crawl back to Cavin McCarthy.
Even if he breaks me all over again.
Chapter Three
Cavin
By the timeI make it back home, it’s dark.
I’ve been ignoring the constant buzz of my phone for hours.
Seamus
Where the fuck are you?
Mam
Where are you, son?
I had to pay the fucking tribute.
Malachy warned me they’d come to collect. He didn’t say they’d take my sister to make their point.
My hands are still shaking… from rage or fear, I don’t fucking know.
He told me what the consequences wouldbe.
And now I know something no one else knows—Bronwyn being taken was on me. A warning. A clear message.
While the others wear themselves out chasing shadows, I paid my fuckingfive hundred thousand euros.
This can’t go on. I can’t hide that kind of money from my family, and even if I could, I fuckingwon’t.
But I have to keep Bronwyn safe. I have to find out who this is and put a decidedendto it.
When I pull into the family estate, I don’t slide in unnoticed like I’d hoped. Floodlights blaze across the driveway, burning white over gravel and stone. Seamus and Da stand in the front foyer—arms crossed, waiting.
Fuck it.
I steel myself and jog up the front steps.
The door swings open before I hit the top.
“Where the fucking hell were you?”
Seamus’s fist connects with my jaw before I clear the threshold. Pain explodes white-hot. Blood floods my mouth.
He hits me again, harder. My head snaps back, skull cracking against the wall.
“Where. The.Fuck. Were. You?”
He grabs my throat and slams me against the wall. His thumb digs into my windpipe. I taste copper. Can’t breathe.
Black spots dance at the edges of my vision.
If he were anyone else—anyone—I’d drop him right here, bare-knuckle, the way Malachy taught us in the barn when we were lads. Three hits: temple, throat, kidney. He’d be pissing blood for a week.
