Cunningham let out a weak groan. “Let me go.”
We ignored him.
Fuck, this was a lot of awkwardness to handle, even for me. “We go home tomorrow morning. We need to be ready to leave by seven.”
Cillian finally turned toward me, and my breath hitched at the sight of his sweaty face. The laughter and excitement I usually saw in his eyes when he tortured someone was gone, leaving him a shell. I felt at fault for the change, but I was as stubborn as Cillian when I wanted to be, and until I could figure out the mess of my thoughts, I needed to keep my distance from him.
“Home?” His voice was on the edge of sounding strangled and he said the word as though it was foreign to him.
“Back to Vail and Fallon.” I held my arms tighter against my body and clenched my jaw.
“So, that’s it?” He stalked toward me.
“That’s it,” I confirmed, staying still. I wasn’t going to let him threaten me into taking a step back. When we played these games, I knew the deal, and I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction, even when he was right up in my face. “We did the job and now we go home to our boys.”
He stared, and I looked right back. Cillian relented first, stumbling away a few steps. His expression of pure rage returned.
“And Cunningham?” He waved at the bloody man.
“Did he give you any more information?”Good job, Aspen. Keep it all business.
“No. He doesn’t know any other of Reyes’s contacts around this shitehole of a city.”
Cunningham groaned again. “You told me... you’d let me go if I told you about Joaquin Reyes.”
Cillian swaggered back over to Cunningham. “We lied,” he said, punctuating his words with a hard punch to the gut, which caused Cunningham to cough up globs of bloody spit. Internal damage wasn’t surprising when it came to Cillian doling out torture.
“Pack up your gear and get ready to go tomorrow morning.”
I left him like that, regret curling acid in my stomach as I turned my back on him and went up the stairs and out the door. When Cillian was in emotional pain, he never wanted to show it, but I couldseeit and I made sure to spend time with him. We would fuck someone or go to a club or torture someone for the boss. Once, we felt silly and got drunk before heading to a mini golf course. We got kicked out pretty quickly that night. It was fun.
This time, I couldn’t be there for him.
This time, I was hurting, too.
So, instead of sticking around the house and thinking about what Cillian was doing to Cunningham downstairs, I grabbed my wallet and phone and went out to search for Vail’s key lime coconut patties. Unfortunately, they were easy to find, and I made sure to buy two packs. I had no doubt Vail and Fallon would eat them the first day they were handed over, no matter how many I bought, and I didn’t want either of them to get sick.
Not wanting to go back to the mansion, I spent more time perusing the stores, picking through all the local products that were difficult to come by in New York. Florida was only a step away from the Caribbean and it made me miss easier times in my life when everything was about fun and catching up with family. No matter what I did, though, I couldn’t get Cillian out of my mind.
Fuck. It was useless.
I wanted to go back and cuddle up behind him and tell him I was sorry. I wanted to take care of him like I did Fallon—something I’d always done with Cillian without him even knowing. While Rowen was outwardly caring to the guys, I did it the same way I did everything else—quietly. I never wanted them hurt, but right now, I was the reason Cillian was sad. Yet, I couldn’t get out of a funk.
I considered calling Fallon but decided against it. He would know something was wrong; that was why I hadn’t answered his call this morning. No, I would see him tomorrow. Until then, my plan was to avoid Cillian.
* * *
The next day, I found myself sitting on one of Sloan’s private jets as far away from Cillian as I could get. This one wasn’t as nice as some of the boss’s planes, a real bare-bones model that had leather seats close to what you would find on a commercial airline in first class, rather than being a home away from home in the air.
Ardan noticed our seating arrangements because he gave me raised eyebrows from where he had his ass parked diagonally across the aisle, but I ignored him and focused on the book in my hands. I never got time to read and yesterday I’d picked up a book in a store. It was a true crime story about motorcycle clubs that had caught my attention. I’d always been curious about what these kinds of books said about the real-life crime I lived every day, and so far from what I’d read, they weren’t far off the money.
“What’re ya doing?”
I sighed when Jamie collapsed in the seat straight across from me. Cillian was sitting somewhere closer to the back and until a second ago, Jamie was there, too, along with Corbin.
“Reading a book,” I deadpanned.
Ardan snorted out a chuckle, which earned him a mock glare from Jamie.
