Chapter 15

Tears spill over without my permission. This is exactly what I have been afraid of ever since I brought Cillian here. The room feels cold and empty without Boris, even surrounded by all of my normal fluffy pillows and blankets. He's missing, and it's as prominent as a gaping wound in my chest.

I can't lay down or sit up without feeling it. I allow myself five minutes of crying, hoping that will ease the pain and anger radiating through me. But all it does is make everything feel worse.

I should go to the guest room and demand answers. I want to know if Cillian said something, or if this was all his idea. I want to force him to look at me as he says we're over. I want him to change his mind and beg for my forgiveness.

But none of that is me. That's Evie or maybe even Laney, but that's not me. As much as I pretend to be the strong one, all I really want is for someone to help make life easier to live. Someone who can make me feel like I still matter amidst all the chaos.

Cillian did that once, then Boris. Now, I don't know how to find that peace within me again. That part of me is only filled with betrayal and anger.

He said together. We said together. Now he's just going to walk away?

I throw the blankets off of me, done with sitting here. I need to do more than cry, but I can't do that with these two men capable of hearing me.

When I lived in Ireland, there was a cliff face not far from our house I would walk to when I needed to purge the anger and frustration from my body. I'd go to the edge, fall to my knees and scream.

The wind would mask the sound and crash into my face as if it too were angry for me. There might not be a cliff nearby, but I do have my car.

The garage is nearly soundproof anyway, so when I slide inside my amethyst Mustang, I am confident no one will hear me outside. Taking the pillow I brought with me from the bed, I push it against my face and let it all go.

I scream for the hurt, the anger, and my life. I scream because everything I have come to know and feel comfortable with is being taken from me. I scream for the future that now feels unknown. I scream for the fact that my house no longer feels like home.

Then, I scream more.

Over and over I let all the ugly thoughts and sounds I need to expel fall out of me in a violent rush. My chest heaves with effort and my eyes burn from crying. It isn't until I move the pillow away from my face that I see him.

Standing right by the car in sweatpants and a white tank top is Cillian. He isn't looking into the car, just standing next to it.

My breathing still comes in gasps as I work to regain my composure, not sure how much he could hear or witness.

Without warning or notice, Cillian opens the door and climbs in. He doesn't look at me as he pulls the five-point harness over his head and locks himself in his seat. When he settles, holding onto the grip handle, I side-eye him.

"What are you doing?" I ask, my voice hoarse.

"Just along for the ride, Sweetheart."

Does he think I'm leaving?

Honestly, that's not the worst idea. I don't have shoes on, but I don't really care. There is a mountain route that I know well. No one will be on it at this time of night.

I don't say anything as I get out and grab my keys from the rack by the door before stepping back into the car. I need to think, to clear my head, and that is not going to happen in the house or sitting in this damn garage.

Part of me feels a little lighter as I drive us out onto the night road. Everything is dark, no lights around apart from the ones my car shines on the gravel in front of us. It feels eerie, but also peaceful.

The crisp, fall air greets me as I roll down the windows and let my arm hang out. Sometimes feeling the breeze while hitting the gas is all I need to set myself straight again.

Other times, I need to race the mountain roads ahead at speeds that terrify me until I remember feeling something other than fear or pain. The adrenaline that accompanies drifting along the mountain's edge is exactly what I need tonight.

I have no idea how Cillian is about to handle this adventure, but no time like the present to show him who I really am. He thinks he still knows me, but the problem is, the naive, stupid girl I was three years ago no longer exists.

I have been broken so many times since he last saw me that I'm shocked he was able to recognize the pieces I glued back together. To Cillian, I might look the same, but everything on the inside has been rewired for survival.

When we reach the base of the mountain, I glance over at him once, idling the car while rolling up the windows. I think about asking him to stay, just in case this is the day that I don't make it back down alive. But before I can say anything, he turns to me. Those crazy eyes I'm so used to seeing from him are gone, and the boy I once knew is sitting beside me.

"I'm with you, Sweetheart. Whatever you need to do."

Another tear falls down my cheek, this one burning more than all of the others. As a breath escapes my lungs, my foot presses on the gas with no plans of letting up.

My supercharged GT350R custom-built engine roars to life under us, blurring the outside world. I know this mountain by heart though. So much so that I don't need to see the road in front of me to know when I need to glide into the turn or give her more gas on a straightaway.

It's moments like this I am beyond thankful for my sequential transmission, allowing me to shift through the gears quicker and take advantage of every second. With each turn, I can practically feel Cillian shaking in fear next to me. But he stays quiet. He said he was along for the ride. He is with me. And he's proving to me just how true that is with every daring turn I take.

I don't know when it is exactly that my mind starts to feel less hazy and my body begins to relax, but by the time we're heading back down, drifting into each corner as much as possible, part of me feels better.

I watch my RPMs closely, careful to take each turn at just the right moment to ensure we stay on the road and not fly off of it. The risk is energizing though. I can practically feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins along with the speed of my engine.

It's like my car and I become one while on this road. I know her like I know myself, and she knows just what I need. I might not be a runner, but in another life, I picture myself as a racer.

My thoughts no longer feel muddled, speed mixed with the night air help me sort through each little bit of information I received tonight. Boris didn't just let Cillian go down on me back at the ballet. He goaded him into it. Then, he watched as if I were putting on a show just for him.

Which I was, but also the way Cillian made me fall apart was such a stark contrast from what I am used to. When I'm with Boris, he loves to push me to the edge before pulling back a few times. When he finally gives in, he continues to use me until I nearly scream from oversensitivity. And I love it. Every damn second.

There's something about the scruff of his short salt-and-pepper beard rubbing over my sensitive clit just after an orgasm that makes me ready for another. And he delivers every damn time.

But with Cillian, it was different. He was patient, learning all of the things I liked before using them together all at once, making me soar into oblivion so quickly that I wasn't sure I would ever come down.

The vibration from the engine beneath me reminds me of the way Cillian's tongue piercing made me quiver with pleasure, especially when he pushed it so far inside of me I could have sworn he found new nerve endings. Feck . It was unlike anything I've ever experienced.

Evie said I have to take what I want. It doesn't feel possible that I could take these two men and make them mine, but I have an inkling that the three of us are stuck together. Boris might have walked out on me tonight, but I am not giving up on us.

On the final curve, I hit the gas and turn the wheel sharply before yanking it back. My car drifts harder than I'm used to, bringing us to the very edge of a forty-foot drop. So much so that I feel part of my back tires lose traction as they hover over the abyss.

My heart rate kicks up, but it's all worth it when Cillian screams like a little girl just before we head down the straightaway at higher speeds than I normally risk. That in itself is enough to change my mood in an instant. I laugh so hard that all of the muscles that ached from screaming and crying burn all over again.

He glares at me, but I just smile back at him smugly.

"Where did you learn to drive like this?" he asks as we get back on the main road that will take us home.

"Damien taught me for a while on the island. He and I grew closer working with the cars for a few months. I taught him to shoot moving targets, and he taught me to drive a car in ways that made me a difficult target."

I think back to life at the island university where I met the people I now call family. It was kind of like a college master's program for crime, but it brought us all together. There were many times I found myself at the track to just clear my head, driving in endless circles until Damien taught me a few tricks.

When we arrived in Russia, I knew I wanted to build my own car. Boris pointed me to a few guys he knew well, and I worked with them at a racetrack in town. Some were professional racers, others specialized in car modifications. Thus, Flair was born.

Every modification they could equip, I have. The sequential transmission was from Rodney, and Caleb hooked me up with a stage 3 clutch. He also upgraded the rotors and calipers, so it can handle all the horses my baby is willing to give it while giving me the braking power to stop. Felix added the supercharger, and Wren got me the racing seats that hug my body like a glove.

I still think I shouldn't have allowed the guys who built her to name her, but I guess it works. She's a beast, but she's also fast.

"You've found some good people," Cillian says.

"I have. I got pretty lucky."

He grins at me, a little bit of that crazy shining through, but not enough that I feel like I don't know him anymore.

"I would bet the universe knew it had knocked you down too many times to do it again."

I chuckle. "And why would the universe care what I do?"

"Because it can't create someone whose will is stronger than its own. And that's what would have happened if it kept challenging you."

Little does he know, I tried to take the coward's way out a few times. Evie just saved me from it the first time, and Boris the second.

"I tried to strangle Evie in her sleep on the island," I confess.

He looks over at me, still gripping the handle tightly while shock is written all over his face. "You did what to a professionally trained assassin?"

His voice has a hint of amusement in it, but also anger. Rightfully so too, I was way out of line.

"There was an incident and I thought she was trying to embarrass me. My father got in my head about it. I made a mistake. Her men made sure I paid for it, but it was Evie who took pity on me."

I make a turn and chance a look at Cillian. I can't read his expression though, which makes my hands feel sweaty for some reason.

"Evie allowed a fair fight, and when I lost, she stepped back. After that, I heard of an attack on the island and decided I wanted to be on her side. Very few people in this world give second chances, and I wanted to be on the side that asked questions first before getting all murdery."

Cillian laughs. "Murdery, eh?"

"It's a word," I say defensively. "Shut up."

My fist connects with his shoulder, and he lets out a groan I'm not sure is all pain. As we get closer to the house, my face starts to fall.

This is my home too, and I don't want to walk around like a kicked puppy. I want to be able to figure this out. I pull back into the garage and notice the McLaren Shark sitting at the end.

"Is that yours?"

"Sure is. She's a beast."

I snort. "She couldn't take Flair for even a quarter mile, guarantee it."

"Veronica could totally take this outdated American car. You name the time and place and we will be there." He throws out his hands in a challenge.

"Veronica?"

"Flair?"

"Okay, you have a point," I say as I cut the engine. "But Veronica is such a petty girl's name."

He shrugs as he opens his door. "I am quite petty."

Once we're in the house, the mood transitions from playful banter to dread quite fast. I don't want to go back to my room, but I need to get a little bit of sleep before Evie arrives in a few hours.

With a sigh, I head to the kitchen to make some tea, hoping it will help me relax. I'm not shocked in the least when Cillian follows me.

"I heard everything he said."

That makes me pause mid-reach for my tea box.

"I didn't tell him he needed to leave for me to be here. In fact, I tried to make it clear it was the opposite."

I turn to face him, finding him only a foot away from me.

"I won't say I'm upset to have a chance with you, but I am sorry for the storm that has entered your life because of me coming back into it."

I don't have words. Never in a million years did I think Cillian would be the one to come to me about this. Just like I never thought Boris would come around to the idea, even if part of me still hoped he would.

"I see how you need us both in different ways. I see where our love for you combined only makes you shine brighter. I understand what you need, and I vow to find a way to give it to you. You deserve everything, Sweetheart. Everything ."

Without thought, my lips meet his, and the dam in my soul breaks. All the love I thought I lost when he disappeared comes rushing back through me, filling me to the brim. I can still feel Boris' love in there too. Together, it feels like every hope and dream I could have conjured up.

Our mouths move together with a familiarity, as if they were never apart. And the frayed edges of my heart seem a little less painful.

Our breaths tangle together and my face grows damp, but I don't care. My first love is in my arms, and I never plan on letting him go ever again.

When we pull back, my hand ghosts over my lips. I can still feel the warmth of his kiss there. The smile he wears is so genuine and delicate that I feel like I can fully breathe again for the first time in years.

Then, the reality of what we just did slaps me in the face like a cold cup of water.

"Cillian, I…" Panic seizes me for a moment before he wraps his arms around me.

"It's okay, Sweetheart. I know. Don't worry."

I relax into his hold, his comfort making me realize just how tired I am. I don't want to give Cillian or Boris the wrong idea, but I don't want to be alone right now either.

"Couch?" I ask quietly.

"I'll bring you your tea," he says before pressing a kiss to my temple.

I head to the couch to grab blankets and curl up on my side next to Cillian. The aroma of the hot tea wafting through my senses makes my eyes feel even heavier, and after the first sip, I set it down and lay my head in Cillian's lap.

His fingers comb through my hair, and all too soon, exhaustion takes over. Just as my eyes begin to close, I swear I hear footsteps walking away from us.

???

I slept like shite, but Cillian never left my side. I woke up once to find his head back and his breathing smoothed out. It was strange to see him so relaxed and at peace. His toned arms decorated with intricate tattoos were on full display for me to stare at.

I have no idea how long I watched him, but it felt like forever. I wanted to see every piece of art on him to try and understand him more.

The emotion emanating from him when he confessed that the neck tattoo was for me took me by surprise, but I didn't want to say anything then. Last night, however, I got my fill of each mark visible to me.

The wings on the backs of his arms, the knife on his bicep dripping with blood, and on his forearms were familiar eyes dripping with crimson tears. All of it told a story that felt too close to home, and yet made me feel at peace.

I don't know if I will ever be able to talk to Cillian about what happened with my sister, and I am beyond grateful he hasn't asked. He hasn't asked about anyone actually. Not even my father.

As I fell into a deep slumber, my head was a mess of questions. For Cillian, for Boris, and for what this day would bring.

I'm about to get up and make some coffee when the doorbell rings. Cillian sits up with a jerk and I stand, grabbing the gun from under the couch and flicking off the safety in a second.

Before we take a few steps, Boris is in the hall with his gun drawn and ready. I nod to him, setting all emotion aside. Evie isn't supposed to be here till ten and it's hardly past six in the morning.

Banging fists beat against the door, and a very familiar voice rings out. "Open up! We need your help."

Damien?

I check back with Cillian and Boris before racing to the door and wrenching it open. Sure enough, Evie and her three husbands are there.

"We got news. We need to go now. Two locations. They changed the drop points. I've tried to call you for the past twenty minutes." Evie's breath rushes out of her, causing my anxiety to spike.

It's not often she looks this wound up. My phone must have died since I didn't have it on the charger last night.

"Here is the location," Alexi hands me a folder. "Keep an eye out. It is as if they found a way to sense when we are coming."

"When do we think they're moving?" I ask, grabbing the file and flipping through it. Two trucks with shipping containers on the back are sitting outside what appears to be abandoned warehouses.

"I got heat signatures on the trucks to confirm the kids were there," Lev says. "Twenty minutes later the driver received a call. They scrambled the lines, but it looked like the men around were already moving."

"How far out are these?" I ask. I need to throw on some clothes, and we need to grab our gear.

"Two hours." Damien looks at Boris. "I notified all police to ignore our vehicles. Just get there."

"We need to go," Evie says, already walking back to the car. "We will update you as soon as we have anything."

I nod and rush inside, heading straight for my room as I yell at the men. "Boris, show Cillian the weapons closet. Get all three cars loaded. I'm going to get dressed and then we will head out."

They don't answer, so I assume they know how to follow orders. I quickly dress in a long-sleeved black shirt and some leggings along with black boots I can run well in. I have no idea what this is about to entail, so I grab my jacket and two for the boys just in case we need to settle outside at any point. The weather is nearly freezing this morning.

Removing my long-range rifle from the safe in the closet as well as my custom handgun and weapons belt, I attach everything swiftly.

As soon as I'm ready, I snag a brush and hair tie to do my hair in the car, not wanting to waste another second. When I reach my car, the boys are already waiting and ready. Cillian is standing at his door and Boris slams his trunk.

"We are all loaded." Boris walks around and opens his door. "I will make a call between us once we get on the road to discuss a plan."

"Okay, let's go get these kids."

I have to be optimistic because there is darkness coming over me. I don't know if it's a warning or a feeling, but something doesn't add up.

When our call connects, I refuse to allow anything to come before these kids and our mission. Boris and I are very good about separating our focus, and right now we all agree on where it needs to be.

My face is swollen from all of the crying and screaming, and my eyes are a little bloodshot, but I stop looking in the mirror as soon as my hair is up and out of my face.

Thankfully, not a lot of people are on the road at this time on a Saturday morning, so we don't hit any traffic. I take the lead since we all know my car is the fastest, but I keep pace with all of them and their engines' abilities.

Maybe I should invest in faster cars for these men?

I file that thought for later. You never know when you will need to get somewhere in a hurry.

We discuss a few plans on the drive, but since we really have no idea what we're moving in on, it's hard to come up with anything definitive. I can tell Cillian is ready to race in while Boris wants to take it slow. I understand both sides and try to figure out a way we can do both because the two seem necessary.

We have no idea what kind of technology these people are working with. If they even have the slightest idea that we're coming, we'll have to adjust our plan rather than sneaking up on them. But we have to ensure kids are out of the line of fire before engaging at all.

My head is feckin' swimming by the time we all pull into the adjacent parking lot to what appears to be an abandoned warehouse. The truck is still there, but someone is getting in as soon as we step out of our own vehicles.

"Vantage point on the roof here," Boris says, gesturing to the building behind us. It should allow us to see over the warehouse and be able to track the truck to watch where they're headed.

"Go," I tell him. "Tell us what you see, and we will move if it's safe."

He runs to the building, taking the stairs on the side to get to the top.

"I can drive over there, maybe even park in front of him and pretend to be lost or something," Cillian offers, but I shake my head.

"If they know we're coming, this could be an ambush. The heat signatures could be up to fifteen men. We can't protect you from that."

"What if it's not though? What if it's the kids and they need us? I don't want to have to flip the truck to get them out." I glance at him just as the truck's engine starts up. My jaw sets as my mind flashes back to when we met under similar circumstances.

"He is not leaving the property," Boris says over comms. "It appears like he is turning into the warehouse."

Cillian and I glance at each other, confused looks marring our faces. "Is this a drop point?" I ask, not expecting an answer.

"They could be getting the kids out to stay here while another car comes tomorrow?" Cillian guesses.

"The truck went in and the doors were closed behind it."

"How many men?" I ask.

"I was only able to see three. The inside looked deserted, but there could be more."

Fuck. Is this a trap or is this our shot?

"I'm going in," Cil says, getting into his car and shutting the door.

His engine revs to life and he peels out, flying right over to the building.

"Fuck."

"This is not the best idea," Boris says calmly, as if he expected this from Cillian. I kind of did too, but the terror that is trying to claw at my chest doesn't dissipate. "Two men just exited and are heading to the south."

"Track them as long as you can," I say while hopping into my car and following Cillian. This is too rash, but I know Cillian, and there is no changing his mind.

"I will watch your backs," Boris says reluctantly.

Cillian's already out and heading to the door when I pull up. I rush to his side and pull my handgun as well as a set of brass knuckles from my belt. If this is going to be a close fight, I want every advantage.

Cillian looks back at me and nods, letting me know he is moving in. I watch his back while he turns the knob, inching the door open slowly. Once there is enough room for him to slide in, he glances inside.

"Clear," he says just above a whisper.

Taking one last look around us, I duck into the door and allow my eyes to adjust to the dim light. The truck from outside is parked in the center and no one is around.

"Two walked out, do you think there are more in here?" I ask Cillian.

"I doubt they would leave their merchandise unattended."

We make our way closer to the back of the truck, watching carefully. After we turn the corner, I hear the snick of a gun and the voice of a man that sounds faintly familiar.

"You should not have come here."

Nausea churns in my stomach as realization hits me that I know this man. He works for my father.

What Cillian said before clicks. My father bought kids. He bought a truckload of feckin' kids.

I don't even have the chance to think about shooting the guy before Cillian puts a bullet between his eyes. Frustration burns through me because the asshole could have known something. But I see his point. And if Boris has eyes on the other two, surely we will get information from them.

Cillian runs to the truck and pulls the back door open without hesitation while I stay back, still nervous since this man clearly knew we were coming. My gun is aimed, even if I don't want this to be the first thing these kids see, I can't risk everyone's safety.

When he jumps up to look in, Cillian's body sags with defeat as soon as we register that it's empty.

"Maybe this was a decoy?" I suggest. "We should call Evie."

Cillian turns to me, and I can see the hurt in his eyes. He wanted to save these kids more than anything. We both did.

"Boris, the container is empty. Do you have eyes on the other men?"

"Negative. They took off in a blue van around the same time the two of you went into the building."

I sigh, wanting to throw my gun in frustration. But I could never do that to Jessica. She was a gift from Boris, so I keep my grip on the precious weapon.

Cillian and I survey the rest of the truck, finding no trace of anything left behind. It's wildly frustrating, and by the time Boris makes it over to us, I am ready to call Evie to see if they found anything.

The three of us step close to my phone as I dial her number and put her on speaker.

"Did you find anything?" Evie asks immediately.

"No. It looks like it was a decoy."

"This is all so…"

Before Evie can finish her sentence, the line abruptly cuts off, and I notice my phone has no signal. The three of us glance up at each other, before turning outward, our backs together and aiming our weapons. Glass shatters all around as fifteen people easily blast through the windows above.

Chaos descends, but the moment Boris is hit, utter terror courses through me. The thought of losing him here and now makes me scream. But when he rolls over, I realize something.

They aren't using bullets. They have tranq darts.

I take aim with a new sense of panic rising, hitting as many men as I can while Cillian and I brace ourselves back to back. We both get hit at the same time, and the room goes fuzzy as bodies descend around us. But I'm not going down without a fight.

I grip my brass knuckles as tightly as I can and swing with all of the strength I have left in me, just as hands start to reach out for me.

I make contact a few times, but not enough before I am pulled into darkness. I feel myself fall right before I'm kicked in the stomach. It hurts but the edges of the pain are numbed.

I can sense both of my men on either side of me before everything goes blank and my last thought drifts through my head.

Who the feck are these people?