Fionn shook his head. “He committed a crime because he loved us?”
Siobhan tightened her grip, pulling him back from the sink. “Come sit with me.”
He took the towel she laid in his hands and allowed her to guide him toward the table. Only when he was settled did she continue.
“Do you remember your father talking about his childhood?”
Fionn searched his mind, looking for tidbits. “Not much. I knew his family was poor.” What family he’d had. Fionn’s grandparents had died when Robert was a child.
“He wasn’t just poor,” Siobhan said. “They were destitute. His father died in an IRA bombing in the ’40s, his mam of cancer a few years later because there was no money to treat her. He was left to an orphanage. Everything he had, he created on his own. To him, money was security, the ability to care for his family, the ability to keep us alive. I thought what we had was enough; we were certainly wealthy by anyone’s standards; Robert headed one of the largest banks in Dublin proper. But what I realized later was that no amount of money could take away the fear that lived in his mind. The fear that he couldn’t take care of us.
“Ferrina even testified that Robert thought he was going to steal the money, and hid it before he could. So he could be making certain we were provided for.”
“Normal people don’t commit crimes because they love someone,” Fionn argued.
“Stubborn to a fault, just like your father.” Siobhan took his hands where they lay on the table. “I never said it was a rational fear.”
He turned his palms up, taking his mam’s hands.
“Maybe you’ve never been in love,” Siobhan said. “ I have. More than once now. And I can tell you, if it meant keeping the ones I loved safe, I’d be doing anything, legal or not, for them. Just like your father did. Just like Aileen did for her daughter yesterday. Just like Lyse did for you.”
He jerked, denial shooting through him. “She didn’t do it for me.”
“Didn’t she?”
She’d said it herself, hadn’t she?
Siobhan tightened her grip, refusing to release him. “People don’t always go about things the way we want them to, but that doesn’t mean the motives aren’t pure in their minds. You don’t have to agree. But hanging on to the pain, refusing to forgive…that poisons you as sure as anything. It was poisoning me until I met Mack. Until I finally realized the truth. I see the way you look at Lyse, like you’re wanting to eat her up and tear her apart all at the same time. It’s making you act in ways you never would have ten years ago.”
“I’m not the same man I was ten years ago.” He’d seen too much, done too much to remain unchanged.
Have you ever treated another woman the way you’ve treated Lyse?
No, he hadn’t. Only she could draw out the bastard in him.
“No, you aren’t the same man, but the core doesn’t change.” Siobhan squeezed his hands. “No matter how much money your father had, he couldn’t stop the need for more—more money, more security. And no matter what you’ve been through, Fionn, you would never treat a woman the way you’re treating Lyse now. She’s different, and likely always has been for you.”
“She betrayed me.”
Siobhan tilted her head, the fall of her red hair shining as the morning sun fell across it. “Did she?”
He opened his mouth to respond, biting down on his tongue when Siobhan narrowed her eyes at him. “Be thinkin’ very carefully, son. Look deep down, past the anger and the hurt. Think about what she was going through, what she tried to do. When you look that deep, do you really see her betrayin’ you?”
“I—”
The glistening green of his mam’s eyes flashed a warning. He glanced away.
“What you’re holding on to is only hurting you, Fionn. Do you really want to keep drinking the poison until it kills the both of you?”
Chapter Seventeen
Mack’s study was upstairs, a small bedroom featuring light, creamy walls. He’d converted the space with a desk, bookshelf, and comfortable love seat. Lyse went straight to the computer, already pulling her laptop from its protective case. “Thanks, Mack.”
“So how are you planning to find clues to a ten-year-old disappearance?” Mack asked, grabbing a piece of bacon from his plate.
His tone was curious, not condemning, so she took it at face value. “I plan to investigate. It’s what I do.”
“That and create fun little gadgets and security procedures to keep us safe. And seriously ruin a criminal’s day,” Deacon joked.
Lyse shrugged. “At least it’s aimed in the right direction.” Most of the time. Fionn would’ve been quick to jump on that little admission.
The weight of the silence in the room said her friends’ thoughts had headed in the same direction. It hurt, that silence.
She threw a look over her shoulder. Mack stood in the doorway, shoulder against the frame, frowning down at her as he chewed. She didn’t blame him. She’d lied to everyone she’d met since she’d arrived in Ireland; why would any of them believe she was trying to help? Especially with Fionn around.
“He’s a fecking idiot,” Mack finally said, surprising her.
“Who?”
He jerked his chin in the direction of the stairs. “Fionn.”
She suddenly found herself very interested in the cords she was untangling. “He has good reason to be.”
Deacon stopped his unpacking beside her, a snort escaping him. “He’s a stubborn jackass. Don’t give him credit for anything more than that.”
“Sir—”
Deacon turned to lean a hip against the desk. “What’s my name, Lyse?”
She squeezed her eyes shut. She’d always called him sir; it was the only title that reflected how much she respected him. “I—”
“Lyse.”
Her name on his lips was so quiet. So determined. Fionn wasn’t the only stubborn one in their friendship.
“You know, I’m just a man like anyone else. I make mistakes. Hell, I made an awful lot of them, especially where Elliot was concerned.” A chuckle escaped him. “We worked it out. You will too.”
That had her eyes flying open. “What?”
Every man in the room found that funny, apparently, including King. “Only one thing gets a man that twisted up inside,” Mack said, a yawn stretching the last word almost out of recognition. “I need to be finishing this, then getting some sleep. Wake me if anything happens, yeah?”
Deacon nodded in Mack’s direction, amusement still lighting his face. Lyse turned her focus to booting up the computer. “What system did you bring with you?” she asked. Anything to get this conversation off how delusional they all were.
“A little something new,” Deacon said, handing a laptop to King, who proceeded to hook it up to Mack’s computer with competent efficiency. He obviously knew his way around tech. “Your Predator series has had some upgraded components thanks to Tucker.”
“Tucker?”
“The new tech supervisor at GF.”
She knew all about the little hick—well, not everything. Much as she’d wanted to, she hadn’t hacked into Global First’s security upgrades. It had just felt wrong. She’d gathered everything she needed to using her old system’s access.
Not that she’d share that information. She’d learned her lesson about admitting to spying last night.
“What could a new tech supervisor possibly have added to my baby to make it better?”
“There are always new developments,” Deacon said absently, his focus on starting the program. Predator had been the latest version of an all-encompassing security system that both protected and aided in the hunt. It was some of her best work as far as ground-level security went, work she was particularly proud of. No way could Tucker have—
“What the—”
She had Deacon shoved aside before she’d even realized she was doing it. Lines of code ran down the screen faster than most people would track, but Lyse wasn’t most people. S
he was so absorbed in reading that the laughter surrounding her didn’t register until Deacon gently tugged her away from the computer.
A hot flush swept up her neck. “Sorry.”
Deacon shook his head, still grinning. “Give you a shiny new toy…”
“It’s not new,” she argued. She couldn’t deny the rest of the statement. Put complicated tech in front of her and she turned into one of those emoji faces with stars in their eyes. Nothing set her off like good tech.
Well, except for Fionn.
“He’s just building a name for himself off my work.” That wasn’t entirely true either—what she’d caught onscreen had her kicking herself. Why hadn’t she thought of those upgrades before Tucker had?
Because you weren’t there, remember?
“It’s all the same work, you know,” Deacon said, pulling a chair up to the laptop for King to sit. “Luckily GF is allowing me to continue working with them while I’m contracted with JCL Security.”
The company Elliot worked for. Deacon had retired from fieldwork when his wife died several years ago, working tech support from home while he took care of his young daughter, Sydney.
“I’m glad you’ve got Elliot,” Lyse said quietly.
Deacon gave her a brilliant smile. “So am I. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me aside from Sydney. I even gave her a ring.”
“Even more crazy, she accepted it,” King said.
Lyse had known that already but laughed along with them before congratulating Deacon. All it had taken was seeing him and Elliot fight together to know they belonged with each other. Only love could spark that kind of rage.
Sound familiar?
No, she refused to fall into that trap. She wouldn’t go back to being that naive young girl who’d thought Fionn McCullough might someday notice her.
Oh, he’s noticed you, all right.
“Are the cameras hooked up?” she asked, ignoring the voice that threatened to lead her down a dead-end road.
Deacon grunted an agreement as King began bringing the cameras online. “We set them up earlier.”
“This one’s off a bit.” King pointed to one square whose angle caused the side of the house to obscure its full range.
“I’ll adjust it,” Deacon said and was out the door.
Tension immediately pulled at Lyse’s gut. Though she’d met him a couple of times, she didn’t really know King Moncrief. The old, polite part of her, the part that hadn’t hardened enough in the aftermath of her mistakes to flip off social niceties, scrambled for something to say to the silent blond giant next to her.
“I’m glad Deacon worked things out with Elliot,” she finally settled on. “They deserve to be happy.”
“Yes, they do,” King said, his normally suave voice roughened with gravel. “Sometimes we do actually get the happiness we deserve.” She felt him shrug. “And sometimes we fuck up any chance we might have of happiness in the future.”
The man’s tone told her he knew from personal experience. Kindred spirits, then?
From the corner of her eye she watched as the view on King’s screen filled with a palm—Deacon moving the camera. Seconds later the angle righted itself, focused on the woods behind Mack’s house.
“I’m glad y’all were able to get here so quickly,” Lyse said. Her laptop beeped as the satellite hookup connected. Reliable connectivity this far from town was almost impossible without it.
“Global First certainly knows how to get their crews in and out of countries with a minimum of fuss, especially where weapons are involved.” Clicking filled the room as King typed. “We don’t do a lot of international work at JCL.”
“They know what they’re doing, all right.” She hadn’t seen any weapons, but no doubt Mack had them secured somewhere. He wouldn’t be reporting them, not when they’d been brought by men trying to help Siobhan. “I remember—”
“What the hell?”
The edge of her chair slammed into King’s as she swiveled to see what had his attention. The view from the adjusted camera was front and center, showing Deacon’s back as he rushed toward the tree line. A small, blurry white figure staggered toward him.
“Who is— Oh no.” Lyse was out of her chair before her next breath. King clamped on to her wrist as she passed.
“Who is she?”
“That’s Aileen’s daughter.” The question was, what the hell was she doing here?
They ran down the stairs, King tight on Lyse’s heels. He passed her as they entered the kitchen. Lyse watched as he drew a handgun from its tucked position at the small of his back, holding it down at his thigh as he joined Fionn at the back door.
“Where is—”
Fionn eyed the crack between curtain and door, pausing a moment, then yanked at the doorknob. “Here.”
Deacon hurried through the door, the little girl clutched in his arms. Lyse could hear his soft reassurances as he brought the child to the kitchen table and Siobhan’s open arms.
Kyla was crying softly. From the look of her pinched face, fear and cold filled her, but as Deacon placed her in Siobhan’s lap, the sight of a familiar face broke through her terror. Loud wailing filled the kitchen.
Lyse’s chest went tight, her breath hitching in her throat. Pain shot through her breastbone as she dug her fist against it.
Fionn raised his voice above the child’s cries. “Lyse, go up and get Mack.”
“No.” Siobhan shook her head, cuddling Kyla against her chest. “He needs to be sleeping. I’ll take care of her.”
“You can’t, Siobhan.” Lyse stepped closer. “Kyla can’t be cleaned up and put to bed. She has to go into the station.” Anything they did for her now could ruin evidence against the men who’d taken her.
“Then I’ll go with her,” Siobhan said. “She knows me.”
“No.”
The denial came from Mack this time, moving into the doorway to the rest of the house, his chest bare and the button of his jeans undone. Mack might be a good bit older than her, but Lyse couldn’t help thinking what a lucky woman her friend was.
“I’ll take her in. It’s important, acushla. We have to keep building a case against Ferrina’s men. But we won’t be risking your safety to do it,” he said when Siobhan tried to protest.
“I’ll go with her,” Lyse promised. “She knows me a little bit. I’ll help keep her safe.”
“And you’ll be safe here, mam,” Fionn pointed out.
Siobhan rocked Kyla gently in her arms, soothing the child. Her gaze glued to Mack like a lifeline. “Okay. Lyse, grab a blanket from upstairs. Her jumper’s gone; we’ll need to keep her warm.”
Chapter Eighteen
“They know we’re here. Why aren’t they attacking?”
Fionn glanced over at his mam, noting the lines of strain around her eyes and mouth. The tension in her body. He’d spent the afternoon staring out at the backyard from the safety of the computer in Mack’s study; she had spent it waiting, helpless, for something to happen. She was the kind of woman who felt responsible for everyone around her, from a small traumatized child to the man who’d protected her for the past couple of years. Doing nothing had to be killing her.
Abandoning the security screens, he crossed the room to stand beside her, an arm around her shoulders pulling her close. Comforting her. Letting his warmth ease the strain radiating from her body. Siobhan sighed, her head slowly coming to rest on his shoulder.
“Nerves,” King said in answer to her question. “They’ve sent their message, that Kyla wasn’t worth the trouble now that they know where you are, ma’am. They also know you’re not alone. They’re waiting for us to either get too tired or too wired to fight effectively.”
“They don’t know who they’re dealing with, do they?” Deacon chuckled.
King threw his friend a smile that was all teeth. Clearly both men were ready for a fight.
Fionn wished he was equally ready.
Normally he would joke the pressure off and n
ot worry about the wait. But this wasn’t just any fight; his mam was the target this time. He needed her safe—now, not tomorrow or a week from now. Holding her in his arms brought home exactly how fragile she was, no matter how strong she seemed at every other moment of the day. She was his to protect.
And she wasn’t the only one.
Lyse had been caught in the crossfire once already. Now she was out there with Mack, somewhere he couldn’t defend her, couldn’t keep her safe, take care of her. And yeah, he knew Mack was more than capable. But Mack wasn’t him.
The instinct was there, no matter how much he tried to deny it—and he’d tried a helluva lot, for a very long time. Months back home. Every second since he’d arrived in Ireland. And yet, despite days of rejecting Lyse over and over with almost rabid fierceness, he’d had his ass in that seat all day today, not just looking for a threat—looking for Mack and Lyse’s return. It had his head spinning, but he couldn’t escape the truth.
Lyse meant something to him.
King’s hum where he stood at the window signaled a change just before Fionn caught a glimpse of a set of headlights on the computer screen. “Looks like they’re back.”
His mam was out of his arms and down the stairs in a rush. Heart in his throat, Fionn beat her to the door just as she reached to open it. “Not yet.”
“But—” She resisted his attempt to draw her away until his stern gaze connected with hers.
“Don’t risk them too, Mam. Let’s be getting ’em inside first, yeah?”
Siobhan’s eyes widened, then darted fearfully toward the door. It swung open.
Lyse was favoring her side as she came through first. A curse echoed in Fionn’s mind as he watched her shuffling into the living room, her face white as a sheet, dark circles lining her tired eyes.
“You forgot your pain meds, love,” Siobhan said, but waited until Mack had entered and secured the door behind him before hurrying forward.
“I took some this morning,” Lyse said tightly, but she didn’t fight as Siobhan led her straight down the hall toward the kitchen.
Destroy Me (Southern Nights: Enigma Book 3) Page 11
