Page 42 of Stolen Rebel

The thoughts sour in my mind because it’s a pipe dream. Brian was so damn sure, so insistent, and over the years, I’ve had a couple of close calls. I didn’t dream up this threat, it’s real, it’s constant, and I’m not sure even the Mighty Mahoneys can save me from the jaws of this monster.

A man knowing my name.

A car burning on my street.

A knife flashing where I was supposed to be standing.

Each time, Brian moved me. Each time, things went quiet again. Complicity means peace for all of us. In the beginning, when I wanted to look for Liam, to tell him what happened, Brian would warn me by lashing out against the Mahoneys. First was a customs hold that cost them a week and a fortune, then a tip-off that had Gardaí sniffing around one of their smaller shipments.

Each time, just enough damage to prove a point. Never enough to start a war or get on Patrick’s shit list.

I shake my head at Sorcha again. “You can’t fix this.” My voice is barely a whisper as the words tumble out of my lips.

“We’re Mahoneys, hon. Fixing is what we do.” She bumps her knee against mine, drawing my gaze to hers. “You have to start trusting someone, Rowan. You’re clearly not ready for it to be Liam. So, how about you try me?”

“They’ll kill Liam.” I gasp and clap a hand over my mouth to stop anything else from falling out.

Her brows twitch but, to her credit, she doesn’t pale or pass out. She holds up the burner. “The people on this?”

She doesn’t need to know all the details: about the murder I saw, Brian’s involvement, witness protection. She just needs to know that if I don’t check in with the person on the phone, people will suffer, so I nod. “Someone who won’t let me go.” I swallow, reminding myself Sorcha knows who the Mahoneys are just like I do. “Not without a fight.”

She closes her hand over mine and squeezes, making my chest ache from her silent solidarity. “You’re done handling this alone.”

Tears stream down my face as I shake my head. “I-I need it back. If I don’t message him tomorrow…” I swallow down a sharp intake of breath.

“Then, what?”

“Then all hell will break loose, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.” A bitter laugh slips out. “You don’t understand. He’s already used his leverage. Small things, just enough to prove he can.” I shake my head. “He told me next time it wouldn’t be small.”

She stares at me for a long moment, the air getting thinner in the room as my palms grow sweatier. I’ve broken my silence. I’ve given her more information than I’ve ever dared to tell anyone. And right now, Sorcha Mahoney holds my life in the pocket of her very expensive jeans.

“Please, Sorcha. He’ll come and it won’t be alone. He’ll come armed with warrants, evidence, with everything he needs to destroy Liam. To destroy all of you.”

She jerks her chin at me as her eyes harden. “Let him fuckin’ try.”

Chapter 22

LIAM

Sorcha’s in the library, legs curled beneath her, reading a book like she hasn’t a care in the fucking world. Like she wasn’t supposed to come looking for me when she had her heart-to-heart with Rowan.

She turns the page, eyes still on the book rather than on me standing in the entrance, my nostrils flaring like I’m a bull about to charge.

It’s entirely possible I will.

“I can hear you breathing from here. You really should get your sinuses looked at.”

My hands clench, fingernails digging into my palm. “Do you think this is fucking funny? You were supposed to come looking for me after talking to Rowan.”

Her head comes up with zero urgency and a hundred percent chill. “I never agreed to that.”

This woman will be the death of me because one of these days she’s going to push the wrong button, I’ll react, and Patrick will slit my throat.

“Where is she?”

“In her room. Or should I say cell?”

“Did you deadbolt it?”