Chapter Thirty-Four

Kieran

Twenty-four hours after we returned to school, John walked into Brennan Holdings with an entourage of attorneys, accountants, and his new staff and declared Arcas Group International as owners. I hadn't been there to witness the exchange, nor to see my grandfather's face when he realized he'd lost billions. Or my father's, for that matter. It had been a quiet thing. It hit the news but didn't get very far.

Wren had been transferred to the medical center here at Arcadia under Dr. Shanahan's watchful eye. Of course, he flirted with the beautiful doctor. River turned pricklier than usual. Fox just glared at everyone. Tor had gone silent with Rumor. Graham had given us their message. One word.

Godspeed.

We were now in the business of ruining the rest of our families. Claiming Brennan Holdings also led to our insertion into their private security side business. And that allowed Graham to gain access to resources Tor and Rumor wouldn't have had outside the government. I just hoped that Tor wouldn't get himself killed.

We'd sent the cleaners to pick up the bodies at the cabin and take care of the car Antonio had used. Graham reported that the contract for Tomás had been retracted and that Tomás Moya/Brennan was still MIA.

The thought of him dead somewhere burned through me like acid. No one spoke about his absence from school. Dasher had asked me about it. I knew it must've taken a lot for him to approach me after what I'd done to him, what Fox had done, and I respected the guy. I shook my head and told him the truth. I didn't know.

A day after the takeover, Grandfather summoned me with coordinates.

"He knows and he is going to shoot you in the face," Fox said. "Don't go."

"I have to. It'll be more suspicious if I don't."

I had considered letting Fox come with me as back up. Something about this didn't feel right. I contacted Tor, sent him the coordinates instead. While I trusted Fox with my life, I also knew that he wasn't the type to evaluate the situation before he acted. Guns blazing was his style. Whereas Tor was the opposite. A cold calculating killer was better to have on my side. Except he wasn't within range.

I was on my own.

The takeover was done. My death would change nothing. That kept me moving to my destination. A dock off Lake Wilmer. The small shack looked as out of the way as they came. Whenever grandfather brought me on these missions, they were always remote, and he was always alone. Cillian liked the hunt, the catch, but could never finish the kill. I never understood why. Did he have a conscience? Did he know the person he was judging to be executed? In his sick mind did he really think that since he wasn't the one pulling the trigger, he could be absolved of all the blood on his hands? If I didn't do it, he'd call someone else. Either way, the blood was on his hands. I was just the instrument.

A single bulb illuminated the small space. Shadows deep in the corners made the place seem smaller. The door was opened to the dock outside where Cillian stood looking out into the placid lake. As my quiet steps reached him, I noticed someone tied to a chair. The guy was hooded, head dropped down indicating he was knocked out.

"What the fuck is this?" I asked.

Cillian turned and slapped me across the face. The burn felt deeper than I'd ever felt before. I hadn't anticipated it and fell on my knees. He gripped my hair and lifted me to my feet. "What did you say?"

I bit back the desire to pull my blade from my boot and stab him in the heart with it. "I'm here, Grandfather. As ordered," I said, instead. My eye twitching, already swelling.

"Good." He released me and I straightened myself just to do something with my hands that did not involve killing him. His expression remained unchanged. The man was volatile on good days, that volatility was heightened even more. "You are a good son," he said, freaking me out. "Have I ever told you how proud I am of you?"

I swallowed. Not sure if it was bile rising to my throat. I remained stoic. Giving nothing away. And he continued.

"I've groomed you for this," he said. "You will be my heir. My sons are worthless, unable to do what needs to be done. You on the other hand." He stepped closer to the edge of the pier. I always wondered why he didn't fear me. Why he called me to these remote places unprotected. Was his ego so inflated that he didn't see the hatred in me? Or had I indeed turned into such a good liar he couldn't pull apart my truths? I had no clue. He smirked. "Without question," he continued. "You have followed my every word. After this, I will announce you as heir. Everyone will bow down to you and we will regain the power of our family name." For the first time since I met him all those years ago, since he put a gun to my forehead and asked why he should keep me alive, I saw something other than contempt in his eyes. There was a brief satisfaction mixed with a lot of crazy. Cillian Brennan was insane.

He lowered his eyes to the gun on the round table in front of the chair. "After this, you'll be giving the orders. You'll no longer have to taint your hands in blood. After this, you're free."

Cillian didn't know what freedom meant if he thought I wanted him at my side once I became heir. I'd kill him as soon as he announced me as legitimate. That would be the last fuck you to him. The thought of me leading the family sent a thrill through me. Yes, I wanted that. Next to taking their money, taking away Tristan's power would be the icing on the cake.

One last kill. A faceless death. Another sin to add to my dark soul. And it was worth it.

I picked up the gun with my gloved hand and pointed it at the target. He wore joggers, a pair of cheap running shoes, a couple of hoodies. His wrists were bound to the chair, but not his legs. My eyes trailed his long, deft fingers, the zip ties on his pale wrists, the ink between his forefinger and thumb, and the leather bracelet he wore. My leather bracelet. My heart gave a jolt.

Tomás.

My gun hand shook. Just a slight movement as I considered two things—Cillian was alone. And fuck power. Tomás was mine.

I aimed the gun at Cillian Brennan. Even with the gun to his face he gave me no reaction as if he had no clue that I hated him down to my marrow. For a second heartbeat, I saw the realization on his face that I chose Tomás. His lips parted as if he believed I had any doubts and words would stop my play already in motion. But words would do nothing to change what needed to be done. He had taught me that. I pulled the trigger.

Cillian's head snapped back, and he fell into the water behind him. The silence that followed grounded me. I'd killed Cillian Brennan, the don of one of the most dangerous families on the east coast, my family. And I felt nothing. In the beginning, death had always left a sour taste in my mouth. After I'd acclimated, I felt nothing. I waited a few seconds before stripping the gun to its core and throwing it into the water.

Cillian had succeeded in molding me to his likeness. That thought made whatever toxic shit lived inside of me seethe.

I untied Tomás and pulled off the hood, relieved only when I confirmed that he was still breathing. The need to kill Cillian again settled somewhere behind my sternum as I took in the scratches on Tomás's face. I had questions. Why had Cillian taken him? Why want him dead? Tomás in danger turned me into knots. I couldn't stand it.

I pulled on my balaclava, released Tomás from his binds, and slapped him awake. I couldn't carry him out to safety, and I couldn't reveal that it was me who saved him. I couldn't put him at risk with the knowledge that it'd been me who killed Cillian. Fortunately, he was still disoriented and couldn't get a good look at me. Groggy, he followed my orders exactly. I had boosted a car a state over, changed plates, wore nondescript clothes, no one would be able to trace me back to this place.

Tomás said nothing as I drove into the city, parked the car in a residential street, and took off. He'd find his way. I couldn't hold on to him. I couldn't keep him. Walking away was the only thing I knew how to do. The only thing I could do to keep him safe.