Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 83120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
I shrug. “Been a few years, hasn’t it?”
Lachlan nods. “Suppose. You know Fiona saw her the other day, when you were bringing her upstairs.”
I nod. “Aye.”
“Was damn disturbed that night. Poor girl couldn’t sleep a wink.”
“I bet.”
If the situation were reversed, I’d be as troubled as she is.
Lachlan eyes me and snorts. “Bet you found a few things to keep her busy.”
I smack his arm, but he only howls with laughter when I don’t deny it.
I finish filling the plates up with food. “You know the staff would’ve brought that up to you, don’t you?” Keenan asks. Still, he looks troubled.
I nod. “Aye.” I wanted to see my brothers, though. I’ve been so isolated upstairs, and I wanted to give the girl a break.
“Needed to check in?”
How does he always know? I nod. “Aye.”
Maeve, Keenan’s mum, waltzes into the dining room, her arms laden with flowers. “Good morning, boys!” she says. “’Tis a gorgeous day outside.” She looks at me as she bends and gently eases the flowers on a side table. “How’s your charge, Tiernan?”
Her eyes are concerned, her lips pursed as she waits for an answer. She never pries, but always knows exactly what we’re up to.
I sigh. “Sleeping. The girl’s had a rough go of it.”
“Oh, aye, I bet,” Maeve says, and I can tell just by looking at her that she’d give anything to go up and mother the girl. “You think she’d fancy a visit?”
I shake my head. “No, Maeve, I’m sorry. I’m sure eventually she will, but we’ve had three straight days of really brutal detox.”
Nolan enters the dining room, his hands in his pockets.
“Don’t I bloody well know how that goes,” he mutters. Before I met him, he was an alcoholic, but he’d gotten sober before we moved here. He told me about his time in detox, and how he’d give anything not to go through that again.
“Once she’s settled, maybe she’d like some visitors.”
“But the question is, will she rat you out?” Lachlan sips his tea, his eyes fixed on me.
I frown. “Not sure, to be honest. I don’t think so, but I’m not counting on it.”
“And on that note, sound the word that we’re having a mandatory meeting of the inner circle in an hour,” Keenan says.
“Everything alright?” I ask, knowing before I even ask that it’s useless to pry. He won’t tell us if he isn’t ready.
He mulls it over before he answers, all eyes on him, as the staff comes in and out. They place large platters of food on the table, whisking empty plates away.
“We’ll talk then.”
“Right, then. I’ll bring her food and join you in an hour.” I nod to one of the staff and order some tea brought up as well.
I’m halfway to the door when Lachlan’s voice stops me. “Tiernan?”
I turn in silence to look at him.
“You think Fiona can pay her a visit?”
I frown, thinking about it. “Aisling… might like that, but I’ll leave it up to her.”
Lachlan scowls but nods. “Aye. Understood, brother. Let me know.”
I’m balancing several plates as I make my way toward the stairway, when I hear a plaintive voice behind me.
“Need help, Tiernan?”
I turn to see Fiona sitting by the large window in the entryway, a book in her lap.
“I’m good, thanks.”
Her brows draw together. “How is she?”
I sigh. “Better.”
“She screamed like a bloody banshee when you brought her in.”
“Aye. Was strung out.”
Fiona winces. “Heard something of the sort.”
“Did you?”
“Oh, aye. Bloke I went to school with works for the Ballyhock police now, had to arrest her a few months back. Said she was high as balls.”
I nod. “Aye. I’ll have to chat with you later, Fiona. You need to fill me in, lass.”
She nods. “I’ll tell you what I know.”
I turn and head back to the stairs.
“Tiernan, tell her I was asking for her, will you?”
“Will do.”
My mind spins as I take the stairs. Is she awake yet? Will she be truly detoxed today, or will we have another day of battle? Has she stayed safe and secured all this time?
What does Keenan need to discuss?
I took the life of a politician’s fucking son. If word gets out that the Clan was implicated in any way, we’re fucked. This was no nameless rival.
I open the door with difficulty, balancing the platters of food, but finally manage it. There’s no sound when I open the door.
I place the food at the counter in the kitchen, and head to the bedroom, expecting her to be dead asleep. She isn’t, though. She’s staring up at the ceiling, her covers pulled damn near up to her eyeballs.
“Smells delicious,” she says. It’s the first real interest in food she’s taken since I brought her here.
“Got freshly-baked scones, sausage and eggs, and some of the homemade berry compote the staff makes right here.”
She nods. “Mmm. Do I smell tea?”