Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“I don’t want to call him in front of you,” I protest, but a narrowing of his eyes warns me. I’m not sure what choice I have. I have to find out why he called. I grit my teeth and do what he says.
I swipe the speaker on and dial.
The phone rings, and Tiernan answers on the second ring. His voice is descending, but he still sounds like a child. Nolan will know this is no man.
“Sheena?”
Relief floods through me at hearing his voice. He’s okay.
I bow my head and look away from Nolan so he doesn’t see my face.
“Is everything okay?”
I hate that we’re having this conversation in front of him.
“No,” Tiernan says. There’s a fist around my belly, squeezing. I take in a deep breath and let it out again.
“What’s wrong?”
“She left tonight with some man. Came back drunk off her arse, forgot her key and wanted in. The baby was crying, Fiona came out dazed, was half asleep, and told them to leave. The man lost his mind, broke the door down. They started throwing things. Hit Fiona’s wrist, damn near hurt the baby. Came at me.”
I’m on my feet. “Oh, God, are you okay?”
“I made them leave, kicked them out. Gave her all the cash I had as bribery. I thought of calling someone, but I—I’m afraid they’ll separate us. Not sure who else to call.”
Christ.
Nolan snaps his fingers. My eyes fly open. I almost forgot he was there.
“Mute it,” he mouths.
“Tiernan, just a minute.” I hit the mute button and look at Nolan. He looks even angrier than before. What the hell is that about?
“You have children?”
“Of course not,” I snap. I sigh. “That’s my brother.”
I want to get to Tiernan. I want to rescue them, but how?
“Then who’s that on the phone?”
I swallow. I hate giving him any truth. “My younger brother.”
His eyes widen slightly. “And you’ve got siblings left unattended?”
“Aye,” I say angrily. “Their mother’s an alcoholic, likely passed out on some arsehole’s couch.”
He holds my gaze for a moment, working his jaw.
“I’ll tell you right now, woman, if I find out you’re lyin’ to me I will flay you alive.”
My heart thumps. I glare. “I’m not lying,” I tell him. Everything else I’ve told him is a lie, so I’m not sure why it bothers me so much that he questions the only truth I’ve given him.
“Son of a bitch,” he curses. “And he’s got no one to watch them?”
I shake my head.
“I see,” he says, stroking his chin. “Alright, then. Get dressed. Let’s go.”
“Let’s go?”
He points back to the phone. “Tell Tiernan you’re on your way.”
Chapter 7
Nolan
This woman is way more complicated than she appears.
So fucking complicated.
When I came into the room just now and saw her in a full panic attack, it took me by surprise. I’ve never seen her lose herself like that, lose such self-control. She’s mastered every emotion. It’s part of her armor.
I couldn’t help but comfort her, to help her calm down. But I don’t trust her, not one bit.
But now I feel a little like a douchebag. I assumed Tiernan was her boyfriend. What the fuck am I, a jealous fucking lover? What the hell?
I don’t trust her, and I need answers, but hell, I’m not a monster. If she’s got children she’s responsible for…
Still, it’s crap like this that pisses Keenan off. I was given a job to do and I have to do it, damn it. He’ll kill me, maybe even step in and do the job himself.
“Suppose you can’t wear that damn dress to go see your brothers or sisters?” I ask, frowning at her. She looks at the dress with chagrin, and shakes her head.
“You got someone you can call that will go to them until we get there?”
She thinks for a moment, then bites her lip. “Aye.”
“Call them.”
Her fingers hesitate over the phone. Does she have to think that hard about it? If I needed help, I’d have an army of support at my fingers. Does she have no one?
Why does this surprise me? Of course she doesn’t. She’s disingenuous and conniving.
She finally dials someone, but it only goes to voicemail.
“I can call Walsh,” I tell her. He’s one of the officers on our payroll.
“Christ, no,” she says. Her eyes flash at me. “Are you out of your fucking mind? He’ll have them in child protection before the day’s out.”
“Then call someone,” I repeat, my voice hardening. I’ve no patience for this.
She calls a second person, then a third. No one answers. No one’s going to help her. She can’t hide the way her face falls.
“Fine, then,” I say, when my phone rings. It’s Keenan. I shove my phone in my pocket. I’m not going to answer.
“Let me go alone,” she begins. “I swear to God you can send a guard with me, I’ll—”