A little part of me wishes my mum had married better, that we’d been proper members of the Clan. Her man, my stepfather, was a recluse, though. We lived apart from the others, and he kept his job hidden from me. It wasn’t until I was a teen I understood what he did, and he promised me a job when I graduated.
It was the one thing he ever gave me, before he died in a clan-related accident.
It’s then that I realize we’re nowhere near Tully’s flat.
I clear my throat, trying not to panic. “Excuse me? Um. Excuse me, sir?”
He doesn’t respond, but drives even quicker than before.
“This isn’t the right way,” I tell him. Now I’m definitely panicking. “Hey. You need to let me out!”
I reach for the door handle and realize it’s locked. Panic sweeps through me. Who is this man? Where is he taking me?
What will he do to me when we’re alone?
“Let me out of here!” I scream. “I’ll call the cops.”
He chuckles, and it’s vaguely familiar. “Nah, you won’t.”
Do I recognize that voice?
I peer through the screen but can’t see anything beyond the cap he wears. Why is he so certain I won’t call the cops? I reach for my bag and grab my mobile. My fingers shake on the keys as I get ready to dial when the cabbie pulls down a long, winding road that takes us to Ballyhock centre.
We can get to the McCarthy mansion this way, too… I think?
He pulls down another dark road, not a light in sight. I can’t see anything. My heart is pounding, my palms sweaty, when the cab comes to a halt.
“Put your mobile down.”
The screen goes down between the two of us. My eyes go wide. I recognize those dark brown eyes, that thick beard, the salt and pepper scattered throughout his hair.
“Tully!”
My relief is only brief. I escaped a potential threat, only to leap right into another.
He looks so angry, my heart races.
I am in so much trouble.
I wanted this. Didn’t I?
“Care to explain yourself?” he asks.
I make myself as small as I can in the seat, my eyes focused on him. “Well, I… I didn’t like being left high and dry like that,” I begin.
“Oh? Didn’t you know I’d be back for you?”
“I did,” I say, a note of petulance in my voice I can’t hide. “But I… well, I didn’t want to let you get the final say.”
He shakes his head. “You clearly haven’t learned your lesson.”
I swallow hard. “Oh?”
His brows shoot up. “Oh.”
He turns back to the wheel, pulls back onto the main road, then drives down the road that takes us back to Ballyhock.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
“Tully—”
“Be quiet.” All playfulness is gone, and I’m reminded I’m with one of Ireland’s most wanted. A criminal to the core, Tully thinks nothing of making his victims pay for the crimes they’ve committed.
Am I one of his victims?
What am I doing? How’d he even get this car?
Excitement and nerves build up inside me, my heart accelerating so rapidly I’m panting. I grip the door handles of the car, my belly flipping when we suddenly descend down a steep incline.
“Where are we going?”
“What’d I say?”
The hardness in his voice makes my nipples pebble. I’m hardwired for this, dammit. I close my mouth, and my mind goes blank as we descend into darkness.
The car comes to a stop. My heart beats so fast and loud I wonder if he can hear it. What’s he going to do with me? My body tingles with anticipation, and a part of me wonders if I really can trust him.
Have I crossed a line?
I hear the jingling of something, the car door opening and shutting. A second later, the door beside me opens, and his rough, strong hands grab me. I let him take me. I want to see where we are, see where we’re going next. I’m not fighting him now. My curiosity’s gotten the better of me.
He swings me up into his arms, and it almost feels gentle, if it weren’t for the tightness of his body and rigidity of his limbs. Anger emanates from him like burning embers in a fire, and I know he’s deadly serious right now.
It’s cool and dark here, like we’ve entered a tunnel or a cave. I don’t speak, determined to observe and not stir things right now.
He fumbles with something that jangles. Keys? We’re definitely not at the mansion, and we’re definitely not at his flat. Where are we?
The door swings open, and I find we’re in a holding cell of sorts… or something. It’s a room with a bed, a small table with flowers, a dorm-sized refrigerator and a bathroom. It’s clean and tidy, but disturbingly barren, like trees stripped of their leaves.
He walks me to the bed and places me down, reaches and captures my chin in his strong, rough hand. His eyes glint like fragments of obsidian.