Page 88 of Stolen Rebel

My pulse pounds in my temples. If she’s talking about Liam, she was obsessed enough to pursue him, to confront him. It has to be Liam she’s talking about, it’s the only way Brian’s continued obsession with him makes any sense.

I rub my forehead. And even then, none of this makes sense. The only person who can shed light on the truth is Brian.

I sink back in the chair, the leather creaking beneath me. Questions swirl in my mind, ricocheting off each other and multiplying as the glow of the fire stares back at me from the hearth. My mind starts running scenarios that only Brian can ratify as truth or my overactive imagination. Aisling driving to see Liam, got involved in an accident, and somehow Brian thinks her death is his fault.

Brian did this for her, for Aisling. He took me because of her. Not because I needed protecting, but because I belonged to Liam. I was leverage, revenge, collateral damage in a war that started long before I was dragged into it.

And yet… Brian cared for me.

At least, I thought he did. Which means he knowingly used someone he cared for as a weapon.

I tried so hard to find affection for him in the gaps between his work trips and his check-ins. I told myself that the life he gave me was a gift, even if the man giving it made my skin crawl. But sitting here with Liam, I realize I wasn’t in a relationship with Brian—I was in a long-term interrogation.

My chest tightens. That’s a different kind of monster. Is that what Liam did to him? A shiver slinks down my spine, my fingers cold despite the roaring heat in front of me.

The fire pops, startling me from the growing list of questions in my brain.

Footsteps echo out in the hallway. The library door opens. I don’t look up immediately, but I know it’s Liam. The door closes softly behind him.

“Rebel?” His voice is rougher than earlier.

I lift my gaze. He takes me in—the phone in my hand, the article still open.

His eyes sharpen. “What’s wrong, mo rún?”

My secret. My beloved.

Is it possible I wasn’t enough of a secret all those years ago, and Liam’s love for me is what collapsed my life in on itself?

I swallow. “Did you look up who Aisling was? Or did you already know?”

The question lands between us. He goes very still, his jaw clenching, his nostrils flaring, but he doesn’t look away, he doesn’t shut down. “I looked her up.” He jerks his chin at the phone in my hand. “I see you know what I know.”

“You knew her?”

The fire crackles as he watches me. “I met her once or twice.” His brow furrows. “It’s a small town.” He steps closer. “Did you?”

I shake my head. “It says no charges were brought,” I say quietly.

“That’s what I remember,” he replies. “Single car accident. Bad weather.” He searches my face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I hesitate, because I don’t know what I’m looking for. Guilt? Knowledge? I see none of it, only concern, and that’s for me.

“I heard him. We both did. He said you’d pay for what you did. What does he think you did?”

Something dark flickers in Liam’s eyes. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

I show him the social media post. It only increases his confusion, which settles something inside me. “This was never about me.”

His shakes his head. “It was always about you.”

“No.”

He halves the distance between us.

“It was about you, Liam. I was just the easiest way to hurt you.”

The words don’t feel all that unreasonable. He crosses the rest of the space in two strides and crouches in front of me, hands braced on the arms of the chair, caging but not touching.