Since boiling Sorcha’s hands, Kaitlyn has made herself scarce. Grabbing the container of orange juice, I clench and release my jaw as I shut the refrigerator door to turn toward her. She focuses hard on a container of oatmeal, her apprehension noticeable under tightly knit brows. The lines in her face deepen, and I lean on the counter to stare her down.
“I’m going to give you a one-time deal, Kaitlyn,” I start, and she stiffens as her breath hitching echoes through the otherwise quiet kitchen. Brown eyes flash with caution and fear, but not a single twinge assaults my chest. “What did my sister tell you to convince you to turn on me? Did she threaten you? Did she promise you something? Why are you feeding bad info about me to Byrne? Is it to help her get Marrin when he’s released?”
Alarm brightens her eyes as she freezes, and that deer-in-the-headlights look twists Kaitlyn’s face. Slowly, she sets down the cannister of oatmeal to grip the edge of the counter, a war raging across her face. I twist the cap off the orange juice bottle and grab a glass, slowly pouring the juice into the glass while I wait. Sorcha’s instructions reading behind my eyes with crystal clarity.
Yesterday was the calm before the storm, and today everything will reduce to ash. And if this shit goes off without a hitch, I’ll be free of the contract, and Sorcha will be one step closer to Byrne. The motherfucker will explode, knowing I killed Bella, but not being able to prove it. All we have to do is stick to the story, the plan.
“She told me if I didn’t help her, she’d kill me,” Kaitlyn confesses, her voice roughening with emotion, and she whirls around to stare at me with watering, begging eyes. “Siobhan told me her contact inside Byrne’s house got made, and that I needed to do it or she’d go after my kids. If I told you, she’d go after them. I didn’t have a choice, Cian. They’re just kids, not even teenagers yet. Please, you have to believe me.” Kaitlyn’s worked for my family for so long over the years that she was unable to have biological children. She put my family above her own wants and needs, and my father ended up helping her adopt children that needed a stable, safe home.
“I do,” I say, and relief slumps her quivering shoulders. Not that I’ll show her mercy. “Tell me what she told you to do and everything you know, and I’ll be lenient with you. Was it only, because Marrin is being released?”
“It started even before he got caught,” She reveals, and surprise twitches my cheek before I cup my chin. Hugging herself tightly, Kaitlyn exhales a shuddering breath and gulps harshly. “Siobhan came to me about three years ago and told me about her personal vendetta against Marrin, and that I’d better help her. She sent someone after my children. I couldn’t tell you, or she’d have them killed. I couldn’t go to your father. If I told anyone . . .”
“Why you?” I ask dispassionately, my mind whirring furiously at the rather useless information Kaitlyn spouted. “Siobhan has her own people. She shouldn’t need you.”
“She said that Marrin somehow knew who they were, and she needed someone that wasn’t connected to her. I never asked. All I know is that when Marrin got arrested, Siobhan ramped up the false info she forced me to tell Byrne’s people. She said I couldn’t tell you, because you wouldn’t believe her, anyway, and she didn’t trust you,” Kaitlyn continues, her voice wobbling as apprehension flickers in her eyes. My curiosity perks up, and I gesture her to speak with a flick of my wrist. “I know you kicked her out, because you think she was talking about what happened when you were teenagers. But it was before that. He terrorized her, Cian. He did a lot of terrible, terrible things that no one knows about, because Siobhan tried so hard not to let it get out. She didn’t want him to loom over her, didn’t want him to win. And maybe she was lying about what he did when you were kids, but at the time, I believed her.” I want to believe Kaitlyn, but how can I? Siobhan’s lied so much over the years.
“I don’t particularly care about what he did. I only care about Siobhan and what she’s planning. Why’d she tell you to go after Sorcha, not work together?” I dismiss Kaitlyn’s pleadings even as my mind sticks on them. I wonder what Siobhan said to her about Marrin. “Did she tell you what she plans to do when Marrin’s released?”
“She’s gonna do worse to him than what he did to her, but really . . . I don’t think she’s capable of it. Sorcha is, and Siobhan felt really threatened. She started telling me to leak more radical information. That Sorcha even tried to kill you, and that’s why they lost contact with her. That Bella was getting more and more erratic and depressed the closer the wedding came. And then, the other night when you gave her to Jack, I sent a picture of it to her father from her phone and asked him for help,” Kaitlyn admits, desperation seeping into her tone as her eyes go wide with frantic pleading. My heart remains unmoved, though; this entire situation could’ve been avoided if she’d come to me. She works for me, not Siobhan, and she should’ve known my sister has no power over my employees. It’s not like she’s new here. She knows how things like this work. She knows what needs to be done, the process, the protection I could’ve provided her with. Why she had to act so dumb, I have no idea. “He said it was her own fault, that she betrayed him and deserved whatever she got for being a rotten daughter—”
“That’s enough. I don’t need anymore,” Just in that moment, Jack comes plodding down the stairs heavily, stretching his arms taut over his head on his way into the kitchen. “Does that mean Siobhan still has someone attached to your children?”
“Yeah. I- I had to keep them safe—” I hold up a hand to stop Kaitlyn’s blubbering, beyond frustrated with the sharp left turn this shitty circumstance has taken. Glancing over at Jack, I share a brief look before turning back to Kaitlyn.
“Fine. One final question,” I say, disgust crawling up my throat at her hopeful look; like Kaitlyn really thinks I’ll let her off easy. I’ll make sure her children are taken care of, but when you betray an O’Dea, there’s no turning back. “Do you have any idea how Siobhan’s inside guy got made?”
“N-no, I don’t. All I know is it has something to do with Sorcha, and that’s why she told me to get her out of the way. She was suspicious, but more than that . . . Siobhan was jealous that Sorcha put Marrin in jail and she didn’t wanna lose him to Sorcha. If you really think that one time was an isolated incident, Cian . . . it wasn’t,” Kaitlyn implores me, her voice cracking harshly. Her eyes widen almost comically, and I jut out my chin at Jack. Looking hastily between us, Kaitlyn backs up and shakes her head, her face paling. “N-no . . . Cian, pl- please . . . I had no choice!”
“You did, and you chose poorly. Don’t worry about the kids, they’ll be taken care of,” I reply unflinchingly, and Kaitlyn blanches violently as she grips her biceps with white-knuckle tightness. Jack advances on her, her hyperventilating the only sound echoing hoarsely through the kitchen before I speak up again coldly. “I don’t care about you, or Siobhan’s issue with Marrin. If he hurt her, and I was the one that didn’t know the full story, I’ll give her the courtesy she denied me and apologize for the misunderstanding. How much of this could’ve been avoided if she’d sucked up her pride and rage rather than wallow in it? I guess asking you that question is stupid.”
“No, y-you can’t . . . you won’t.” Kaitlyn sputters unstably. Glancing over my shoulder at Sorcha hanging just beyond the corner, I arch a brow quizzically as she clutches her chest, a thoughtful expression on her beautiful, oval face. She nods sharply, and I flick my wrist at Jack before he reaches Kaitlyn. The disparaged cry that ripples through the kitchen slithers over my shoulders, and I roll them hard as a scuffle ensues out of the corner of my eye.
“Shut her up,” I snap harshly, reaching to pinch the bridge of my nose in irritation. Squeezing my eyes shut as Kaitlyn struggles in vain against Jack’s hold, I inhale a deep, stabilizing breath and hold it. Her blubbering suddenly cuts off under the hard thwack of her face against the counter, and I slowly exhale a sigh. “What do you think, Sorcha?”
“It’s not the story Siobhan gave me, so it’s plausible
,” Displeasure darkens Sorcha’s tone, and I open my eyes as she wanders over to the coffee maker. My heart twists at the war that rages on her face, and I clench and release my fists absently. “I agree, too, that he’s a serial rapist. Marrin probably did terrorize Siobhan, and she just kept it a secret, because she didn’t want to seem weak. She is an O’Dea, so how would it make her look, being attacked by him? She’d be weak. She’d have a huge target on her back, but in all reality, it really doesn’t matter at this point.”
“No, it doesn’t,” I agree, and Sorcha buries her hand in her hair to rub her scalp roughly. Memories of the day, and night, before race through my mind, and I scan her. “What about you? Are you okay? You didn’t sleep at all last night.”
“I don’t know,” Sorcha admits heavily, stretching her body long to grab a mug from the top cupboard. She doesn’t look at me, but I can’t take my eyes off her. “I kept waiting . . . I kept expecting something, but it didn’t happen. I thought, if I went to sleep, I’d have nightmares. I always have them, but I didn’t wanna ruin it.”
“I’m not going to push you for more, sweetheart. You’re perfectly safe.” Reassuring her the only way I knew how; I crack a smirk when Sorcha finally peeks over at me. Slow and steady, that is how this game has to be played. One day, I’ll be able to pound her heavenly pussy all night, but grinding, there was something so fucking naughty about skirting the act. There was something sexy and frustrating about keeping my hands off, and I relish in that sensation.
Shaking my head, I grunt lowly and swipe my hands down my face before turning my attention to the issue at hand. I grab the orange juice off the counter to put it away.
“Everything’s wrapping up nicely, though I’m not sure how to feel about it,” I concede, and Sorcha nods firmly in agreement. “We’re going to have to have a conversation with my father after all this is done. He’s keeping a few secrets himself, and I think something bigger than just Byrne goin’ down is happening behind the scenes. Bella said she had to beg her dad to blackmail mine. So, I need to know what all of that’s about.”
“Let’s kill her first. We can worry about your father after. When I see Siobhan again, I’m gonna slap her so I hope you don’t mind,” Sorcha’s harsh declaration tugs up the corners of my mouth, and affection runs rampant through my chest. “She’s causing me so much trouble.”
“She’s been an irritating little worm. Have at her. All those that can’t swim only flail around and make it harder to be rescued, sweetheart. You’ll get your last laugh when Siobhan discovers for herself that anger and hurt don’t make one a murderer,” I say, and big, blue eyes meet mine to sharpen to glass. Walking past her, I put a hand on her crown and she pauses, grabbing the coffee pot to bluster a sigh. “And if they are, she doesn’t have enough of the stuff.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sorcha
“Come downstairs with me a minute, Sorcha,” I tear my eyes off my seemingly bottomless cup of coffee at Cian’s call. Walking across the kitchen, he gestures me to follow, and I stand to smooth my shirt absently. “Jack should be done setting up downstairs. I’m really glad to have him as a right-hand man sometimes.”
“How long have you been friends?” I ask, curiosity clinging to my ribs until Cian scrunches his face in distaste. “You’re not friends?”
“I wouldn’t call us friends, no. He came from a smaller house that got blown up in an internal dispute when we were teenagers. Jack’s a couple years older than me, so we didn’t grow up together or anything like Marrin and I, but he,” Cian pauses, thoughtfulness blazing from his eyes before they flicker to mine. I arch a brow quizzically, and he sighs before grabbing the doorknob to the basement. “He’s sociopathic, but if he could call someone close, it’d be me. That’s why he’s so good about going undercover for me. Byrne’s not the first long-term job I’ve given him. It’s the one he’s hated the most, though.”
“Oh,” I say stupidly, and Cian smirks lightly with a shake of his head. “Is that why Byrne didn’t know about him? Because he’s older than you, and he’s not around much?”
“For the most part. Jack’s a very capable person in a lot of areas. I have a feeling we both consider each other valuable, and that’s as close to friendship as we’ll get,” He pulls open the door, gesturing me down, and I take a deep breath in preparation. “Anyway, onto the issue. It’s selfish of me, but I’m still pissed about what Kaitlyn did to your hands. I figured we could just kill two birds with one stone, so I had Jack bring down Bella, too.”
“Okay . . . what were you thinking?” I probe, but Cian doesn’t answer me as we head down into the basement. The walls and ceiling are thick with soundproofing, the lights bright, but the floor is cold concrete with a drain in the middle. Kaitlyn and Bella are both strapped to chairs, facing each other, and both jump and look up when Cian clears his throat roughly.
“You! You can’t do this to me, dammit!” Bella shrieks shrilly, her lips quivering below her seeping nose and eyes. She’s still naked, shivering uncontrollably, and she glares hotly at Cian. “You can’t break the contract! Cousin or not, Desmond will throw a fit! You always honor your commitments; it’s the way of the Irish. It’s our way.”
Bella jerks around in her chair with a guttural cry. She’s really making a fool of herself. Dried blood glues her hair to her cheek and neck. Jack must’ve really had his way with her. I tear my eyes off Bella. A sofa hugs the back wall, but Bella notices me when I wander over to sit down. Her snot-thickened wheezes intensify, and I cross my legs as she stares daggers at me.
“You bitch,” Bella seethes, her brown eyes glazing over with the strength of her rage. “I knew what you were doing! I knew it!”
“Then you should’ve done something about it earlier.” I say dispassionately, and Bella throws herself with enough force to knock her flimsy, wooden chair over. The clatter drowns out by her pained, high screech when she lands on her arm. Straining against the zip ties that bind her wrists to the back of the chair, she flails around uselessly before heavy footsteps sound over her.
“You’re still talkin’ shit?” Jack sneers, grabbing the chair to plop her upright, and Bella chokes on her gasp. An empty space opens in my chest, and I prop my elbows on my knees to hold my chin in my palms. “It’s really a shame. You’re prettier covered in blood and bruises.”
“You can’t do anything,” Bella snipes, turning her vicious eyes to Cian. “I’m protected by the contract!”
God, she still thinks it will matter? It won’t. Once Cian’s made up his mind, it’s made.
“Not from yourself,” Cian replies gravely, sticking his hands in his jean pockets to rock back on his heels leisurely. She freezes, confusion clouding her expression, and a childish, malicious glee bubbles up like tar to cling to my ribs. “I can’t kill you . . . very obviously. But you’re more than welcome to kill yourself to escape the contract. And let’s be real, Bella . . . I could kill you after the wedding, but why wait and suffer through all that bullshit when I can just have you kill yourself right now?”
Shock morphs Bella’s face as a frigid silence descends on the large room, and I tap my cheeks with my fingertips thoughtfully. Siobhan, I can understand; she made some smart moves, but didn’t count on anything getting in her way. But Bella . . . nothing happens up there behind that pretty face, does it? Did she think her thoughts were an alien’s voice in her head or something?
“B-but you,” Faltering as realization widens her eyes, Bella gazes at Cian open-mouthed, and I smother a chuff of disgust. “You d-don’t . . . we grew up together, but y-you . . . you don’t feel anything about this? You’re gonna k-kill me despite ev-verything?”
“No, I’m going kill you, because of everything. I fucking hate you. You realize if you’d acted differently, I might’ve spared you, but you didn’t. You threw yourself at me left and right, not even giving us the option to be platonic. If you used that thing in your head and ignored me until the wedding, I would’ve broken the contract af
terward and you would’ve left with your life. Too bad you didn’t think over your actions,” Cian declares coldly, and Bella’s chin jerks as if he choked her again. Her eyes boggle beyond the back of Kaitlyn’s drooped head, her face draining of blood and tinging green. “I never understood why my father picked you, and I kept you alive because I wanted answers. And you slipped up and gave it to me. Your father blackmailed mine somehow. That’s more than good enough for me right now. You’re no longer needed. In this life, Bella, you have to give me something if you want something in return, but you have nothing I want.”
“S-so, you’ll keep her around?” Bella asks viciously, digging her hole deeper as she glares my way. The intensity in her eyes was gone, now, though. In a way, I feel bad, but at the same time, Bella’s Byrne’s daughter, and just as bad. She deserves everything she got. “She’s not even pretty! She’s used! She’s got no connections! She’s got nothing I don’t have! She’s not better than me!”
Bella’s shrieking morphs with hysteria as it bounces off the concrete floor, and I dig my nails gingerly into my cheeks. Watching her under furrowed brows, I purse my lips thinly. Her self-worth is so tied to her body, her supposed superiority, and her status. Rasping harsh wheezes, she shakes her head viciously, a sob crackling through the air like lightning.
“What about my kids?” Speaking up suddenly, Kaitlyn’s head pops up sharply, her hair lackluster as she quakes. “Cian, please . . . protect my kids. They’re innocent. I was—”
Cian holds up a hand to cut her off, a purer, softer sadness stretching through the air like ice. Steely, hazel eyes meet mine. I shrug lightly and point to him dismissively. This is him, now, doing this his way. I’m not going to interfere. I doubt he’d hurt the children. He may be callous, but the man isn’t a monster to everyone.
“I guess you should’ve thought of that before you fucked me over, Kaitlyn,” He says gravely, turning his gaze to Kaitlyn as she stiffens noticeably. “There’s no point in saying what could’ve been. They might be innocent, but you’re not, and once you’re gone, who’s Siobhan gonna turn her rage toward?”
Callous King (The O'Dea Crime Family Book 1) Page 14
