Page 10 of Stolen Rebel

Our guardsman opens the gates, and Noah drives up to the front of the house. I get out and scoot round the back of the car to open Rowan’s door. She’s still got her seat belt fastened, and her eyes are locked dead ahead as though the headrest is the most fascinating thing she’s ever seen.

Sighing, I reach inside and unclasp her belt. “Either get out on your own, or I will drag you out and toss you over my shoulder. Your choice.”

My threat does the trick. She gets out so fast she almost falls over her feet. I grip her elbow and steer her into the house. Voices bleed down the hallway from the kitchen. Taking a deep breath, I walk in that direction. My elder brother, Patrick, is sitting at the table with his wife, Sorcha, on his left-hand side. My younger brother, Darragh, is sitting opposite them, stuffing chocolate biscuits into his mouth. Our housekeeper, Maeve, is at the stove cooking something that smells almost as good as Rowan.

“Everyone, this is Rowan. Our new house guest.”

Four pairs of eyes turn to look at us. Patrick’s eyebrows rise a few millimeters in a silent question.

“It’s Erin,” Rowan whispers, eyes on the freshly mopped kitchen floor. “My name is Erin.”

“She’s lying,” I say. “Don’t know why yet, but I’m going to find out. Isn’t that right, Rowan?”

Sorcha frowns. “Liam, what’s going on?”

“Your name is Liam?”

I ignore Rowan’s fake question and her fake wide eyes and her fake shaky voice and address Sorcha. “I told you. We have a new house guest. She’s a reluctant one, a bit like you were, Sorcha, so we’ll need to put Titan on red alert for escape attempts.” I put my mouth right next to Rowan’s ear. “Titan’s our guard dog. Trained to kill. Think about that before you act.”

Rowan’s pupils dilate, fear swimming in dazzling blue eyes that used to look at me as though I solved world hunger before breakfast.

“Wait.” Sorcha rises from the table. “Have you…? Is this woman here willingly?”

“He took me,” Rowan whispers. “I don’t even know who he is. Please, help me.”

I huff a laugh that sounds more like a growl. “She’s a fucking liar. She knows exactly who I am.” I tighten my grip on her elbow. “This amnesia play won’t work with me, Rebel.”

“Let me get this straight.” Sorcha rubs her forehead. “Are you telling me we’re in the kidnapping business now?”

Patrick chuckles. “Mo mhuirnín, we’ve always been in the kidnapping business when it suits our needs.”

Rowan visibly blanches, and she’d have fallen if I didn’t have such a tight hold on her.

Darragh kicks out the chair next to his. “Rowan, Erin, Rebel, whatever your name is, sit down before you fall down. Would you like a cup of tea?”

I scowl, conscious enough to recognize the emotion flaring inside me as jealousy. Those immature feelings of hating the idea of sharing her are still alive and well it seems.

“No. She doesn’t want a fucking cup of tea.”

Darragh ignores me, settling his gaze on Rowan. “Do you want a cup of tea, sweetheart?”

His use of a term of endearment makes me see red. I let go of her and grab the front of his t-shirt, hauling him to his feet. “Don’t fucking call her that. Don’t fucking call her anything. If you want to keep breathing, don’t talk to her, touch her, look at her.”

Heaving a heavy sigh, Patrick gets to his feet and separates us. “Calm the fuck down, you eejit, or I’ll put you on your arse.” He glances past me at Rowan. “Sit down.”

Rowan obeys Patrick’s commanding tone, one that most people find hard to resist.

“And you. Sit over there next to Sorcha.”

I’m less affected by my brother’s demands, but I sit where he tells me anyway. Darragh pours two mugs, passing one to Rowan and the other to me. She wraps trembling hands around the mug, but she doesn’t drink it. Probably thinks it’s poisoned.

Ah, if only I was benevolent enough to offer her such an easy escape route. My plans are still forming, but unfortunately for her, whatever shape they take, I won’t take it easy on her. She doesn’t deserve compassion, and she won’t get any from me.

“Sorcha,” Patrick says when enough time to make things uncomfortable passes and no one speaks. “Why don’t you show our guest to your original bedroom while Liam fills me in on what the fuck is going on?”

Sorcha’s eyebrows inch up. “Is that really necessary? After all, Titan is prowling around somewhere, and the grounds are full of guards. If anyone knows how hard it is to escape Mahoney Manor, it’s me.”

A flash of intrigue crosses Rowan’s face. Ah, she thinks Sorcha is an ally. She’ll soon discover that Sorcha’s loyalty lies with Patrick, so all I have to do is get my brother onside, and Rowan’s ally will disappear as fast as she did five years ago.