Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
A girl I have no business being interested in. A girl I should probably let go.
But I can't.
I fucking won't.
Is she safe? Did she stay?
The thought hits me like a punch to the gut.
She promised she'd stay. I looked her in the eye. She promised.
But what if—
“Ash?” Da's voice cuts through my spiral. “You alright, son?”
“Fine,” I lie.
He studies me for a long moment. McCarthy eyes never miss anything. But thank fuck he doesn't push, just nods and turns back to Tiernan.
The next few minutes blur. Paramedics swarm in, efficient and professional. Tiernan curses them the entire time they load him onto the stretcher.
“Someone needs to go back to the warehouse,” Da says as they wheel Tiernan toward the door. “Ashland, you and Lorcan need to make sure everything's secured.”
Lorcan nods.
Da looks at me. “Go, son. Tiernan will be alright. Clean this up.” He claps me on the shoulder, then he and Declan follow the stretcher out.
It's busy work, and we both know it. The kind of task you give someone you need busy but don't want to trust with anything important. Da knows I'm preoccupied.
But I'm grateful for it because it gives me a reason to pull out my damn phone. My fingers shake as I open the security app and pull up the cabin's cameras.
She's fine. I know she is. I need to stop being so paranoid. She told me she'd stay, and where would she even fucking go?
The feed loads slow as fuck—my signal is weak in here.
Bedroom first—empty. Sheets are tangled like she got up in a hurry.
The fuck?
Kitchen? Empty.
Living room? Empty.
Where the fuck is she?
My heart's pounding. Then suddenly, she's there. I breathe out a sigh of relief.
She's there.
I drag in a ragged breath. She’s by the window, dressed—jeans, sweater, hair pulled back in a somehow sexy-as-fuck messy ponytail. I can already picture it wrapped around my fist.
And then she turns and walks to the kitchen, and she—
Wait.
She's not… limping.
Not even a little.
She's pacing back and forth, testing her weight on the ankle like there's nothing wrong with it. I told her not to walk on it yesterday. And there's no pain on her face, no hesitation.
Cold washes over me and turns my blood to ice.
She fucking faked it.
The tears. The pain. The way she winced when I touched her ankle. How she had to hold on to me so she wouldn't put any weight on it.
All of it was a performance, designed to make me think she was still injured and couldn't get away.
Un-fucking-believable.
I watch her go to where I’ve hidden her phone.
My heart’s beating a frantic rhythm in my chest when she goes to the front door and turns the handle. She knows it's locked, but she tries anyway. Then she moves to the window, examining the frame, looking for a way out.
And I have two conflicting emotions all at once—pride that she pulled one over on me, and fear that she’s fucking pulled one over on me.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
“What?” Lorcan's beside me, leaning over my shoulder to see my screen.
I close the app and shove the phone in my pocket. “I need to go.”
“Go? We're not done here. You were going to head to the warehouse and clean it up. Da told us—”
I don’t have time for this. He doesn’t need me. “You'll finish. Call Declan. He’ll help you. There's something I need to handle right now.”
“Ash, what the fuck—”
“No. I have to go.” He’s my younger brother, and there’s a hierarchy here. He'll do what I fucking say.
I'm already moving toward the door, then into my car. The engine roars to life before he can finish his question.
I pull up the camera feed again at a red light and watch her try the window one more time.
She's a smart lass. She's going to find weaknesses because I designed this place to keep people out, not in, and I was counting on her not being able to move on her goddamn ankle.
The light turns green, and I floor it.
The phone rings, and I stab at it. Lorcan’s not letting this go.
“You can’t just take off, Ash. The fuck?”
“I said I had something to do.”
“Seamus is going to want to know—”
“Then tell him I'm handling something for the family. Tell him whatever the fuck you want. I'll be back in a few hours.”
I blow out a breath.
“Look, Lorcan.”
“You're going to tell me to fuck off and then ask me for a favor, aren’t you?”
“Aye, of course I am. That's what we do.”
“Fine. What do you want?”
“I need you to find me the current location of Marcus Crowning.”
Even uttering that name fills me with rage. I shake, my hands trembling on the wheel. Molten lava rises in my blood.
I shouldn't even mention the fucker to my brother. He'll know. He'll fucking know.
“Marcus Crowning?” Lorcan pauses. “Ash, what the hell are you—”