Chapter Thirty-Eight
KIERAN
I takethe long way back to the warehouse, weaving through side streets and turning back on myself twice as my eyes flick to the rearview mirror every couple of seconds.
At this point, I’m not sure if it’s from paranoia or instinct, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. Both have kept me alive for this long.
Every pair of headlights feels like a threat, making me tighten my grip on the steering wheel as the echoes of Riley’s screams fill my head.
Did I make the right call bringing her to Ronan and having him take her to the safehouse? What if they get intercepted on the way?
I almost turn the car around and head back to Ronan’s estate because the thought of losing Riley when I’ve barely even had the chance to know her is too much to bear.
She has no idea how much she gets under my skin, how much she’s tangled herself into places in me I didn’t even know were hollow until she filled them.
I shake my head. “Get your shit together, Sullivan.”
If I let myself unravel now, I’m useless.
By the time I pull up outside the warehouse, I’ve shoved Riley to the edges of my mind. Or at least, I’ve tried.
It’s eerily quiet as I make my way down the long corridor that leads to Finn’s cell, my footsteps echoing around me.
When I turn the corner and spot Doyle hovering outside the cell, looking like a man who’s trying not to shit his pants, I know something is very wrong.
I don’t even bother asking him what’s happened because I have a feeling I already know.
I storm past him and throw open the cell door.
The metallic stench of blood hits me before my eyes land on Finn, who is slumped in his chair. His head hangs forward at an unnatural angle as blood drips from the deep cut along his neck onto the floor.
Doyle appears at my side. “I swear, Kieran. I was only gone for five minutes. I had to take a piss. It was just five minutes.”
My fists clench at my sides as I stare at Finn. “And in those five minutes, someone got in here, killed him, and walked out without you realizing? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
My voice is like ice as I turn to stare Doyle down.
The man is trembling so hard I’m surprised he’s still upright.
“There was no sign of anyone around. Nothing. Iswear. I came back and—” He gestures helplessly at Finn’s body. “He was like that.”
“He was our fucking golden ticket, Doyle!” I grab him by the collar and slam him against the concrete wall, knocking the air out of his lungs. “I don’t care if you have to piss your fucking pants; you were paid to not leave your post.”
“I-I thought it was secure.”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just slit your throat too. Because I’ll do it, Doyle, I swear to God.”
Beads of sweat start to coat his upper lip as his eyes flick to Finn. “P-please.”
“You must have heard something. A car at least? No one can access this industrial estate on foot.”
“There was nothing! I-I swear.”
“What about the door? You must have heard them break it down.”
Doyle furiously shakes his head. “T-they didn’t.”
“They must have, unless, of course, you gave them the key.”
