The thought of someone hurting Kieran makes bile rise in my throat.
Rage fights with fear inside me, and it’s a vicious, useless duel because Sean could cut me open like a ribbon, and no one would ever know.
My vision blurs, and I press my forehead to the cool glass of the window, watching the city slide by like scenes from someone else’s life.
For a beat, I allow myself to consider the worst. That this man, this monster, could kill not just me but my baby too and make Kieran watch. That if given the chance, he would ruin everything that’s left of the life I was trying so hard to build for myself.
The panic claws at my insides at the thought, but I swallow it down, hard.
“You won’t…You won’t get away with this.”
“We’ll see.”
“Kieran will find you before you get a chance to hurt me.”
“Is that so?”
Sean leans forward then, his face filling my vision.
Up close, he’s even more grotesque than I remember. His teeth are yellowed and chipped, and his smile never seems to reach his eyes.
He has the sort of face that lingers in your mind until your very last moment.
“Believe whatyewant, Riley. But trust me when I sayyewill die. And whenyedo, I’ll make certain there’s nothing left of Kieran to mournye.”
Chapter Thirty
KIERAN
I wakeup to find the room gently rocking. My head pounds as if someone is hammering nails into every inch of my skull, and my mouth tastes stale and is painfully dry.
For a second, I don’t know which couch I’m contorted on. The room is pitch dark and smells too much like flowers for it to be the penthouse…
I blink once, twice, bidding my eyes to focus as I try to remember what the hell happened last night, but the memories come in shards.
HittingThe Blackthorn,Ronan giving me a hard time.
To be honest, those memories could have been plucked from last night or last year.
“Christ.” I groan as I force myself to sit upright.
But as I move, the rustle of paper snaps my attention, and I’m hit with the memory of being in the kitchen with Ronan and him handing me an envelope.
Riley’s letter.
I must have fallen asleep clutching it to my chest, as the envelope is warm against my palm.
I slide my fingers under the flap and find the paper inside is crumpled from where my thumb has been pressing into it.
That’s when the rest of last night starts flooding my mind.
Reading the letter, wanting to talk to Riley, but not in my drunken state.
I came into the lounge to sleep off the booze. It was only meant to be for an hour or so.
From how groggy I feel, I must have been out longer.
Is she still waiting for me outside on the patio?
