“She’s a teacher at the McCarthy finishing school.”
The McCarthy Clan has a school in Ireland where they send the youngest boys to train, to prepare them for Clan life. My father considered one of our own at one point but chose tutors instead because of our location and reclusiveness.
“And?”
She lets loose a torrent of words, filling me in, and I listen in silence.
She’s right. I should punish her for this.
She’s managed to contact McKenna and pretend she’s Mary. She’s asked her questions about the Clan, and then managed to trick Mary into revealing more information as well.
“I feel so awful,” she says. “I really do. I never should’ve done this. It wasn’t worth it. I’ve betrayed my closest friends…”
She covers her face with her hands, and the body language I’m reading now shows utter sincerity.
She is sorry, I believe that.
But sometimes sorry isn’t good enough.
“Come here,” I say, reaching for her. I tuck her against my shoulder and hold her to me. “You’re going to be forgiven for all of this.”
If she were a man, she wouldn’t have this tender side of me.
If my brothers accused me of going soft on her because she’s a woman, they’d be fucking right.
“Will I really?” she asks, looking up at me.
“You will, but you’ve got some work to do. And I think it’s time we put those super sleuth skills of yours to better use.”
She nods. “Aye, Tate. I promise. Whatever you need.”
My cock stirs, thinking of exactly what “whatever you need” could be.
I quickly get myself under control. We’re not done.
“What can I do?”
I cut straight to the chase.
“Tell me about Islan.”
She groans.
I tug a lock of her hair. “Tell me.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Fran
I don’t knowhow to answer him. If I tell him everything I know, I’ll betray my best friend’s confidence.
But at the same time… dishonesty is what got me here in the first place. And I’m weary of holding that burden, so bloody weary. I want the wholeness of trust, the simplicity of honesty. But more importantly, I want my best friend to be safe. And she won’t listen to me.
I bite my lip, mulling it over, as he slides his way over to me. I can feel his warmth, like rays of sunshine, to my left, his presence somehow both soothing and nerve-wracking. I draw in a deep breath, then let it out again.
He tips his head to the side and gives a slight shrug to his shoulders, magnifying their breadth and width. Though his voice is soft, I’m not fooled. “Why are you so nervous?”
“Because I don’t know how to say this.”
