Chapter 2

Driving to the airstrip, I find myself stealing glances at Cillian. He's so different, but also so much the same. Those eyes remind me of the boy I would look at as we laid out in the fields of flowers, tangling our fingers together. My heart yearns for the sense of home and belonging he once brought me, but it's clear those days are over now.

I sigh as I shift gears, pulling up next to the airplane hangar. Why does it feel equally as exciting as it is disappointing to see him again?

Because you let him down, asshole.

White knuckling the steering wheel, I realize that's the understatement of the century. I've let a lot of people down in my life, but over the past year, things were finally starting to get better.

I have a man I love waiting at home for me in a house we built together. I have friends, a real family with Evie, even if she is sort of my boss. This job she sent me on was supposed to be easy. Find her man, find out what he knows and make sure he understands the need to check in with her.

I glance over at Cillian again.

"Why did you color your hair black? It used to be the perfect Irish red and you were so proud of it." I watch him, trying to figure out what kind of man he is now.

Cillian used to be my knight in shining armor. I may have been the one to save him physically, but he saved me with his joy and those smiles that felt infectious. Even on the darkest days with my family, if Cillian came around, I found a way to smile.

"Same reason you colored yours," he retorts, almost as if the question offended him.

"I doubt that." I shake my head. There's no way he could know why I started coloring my hair bright red.

"You shouldn't," he murmurs, looking away.

My brows pinch. He used to be able to read me like a book, but there is no way he knows about that night with my sister.

Ignoring him, I press the call button to Evie's direct line. The phone rings through the speakers, making Cillian sit up a little straighter.

"Tell me you've found him." Evie's sharp voice echoes around the car, so I turn down the volume.

"Sure did. We're listening to Cillian's phone right now. He planted a bug on our target, but so far the Prime Minister has been quiet."

"Cil," Evie's voice lowers and part of me smiles, thinking about her reprimanding him. Evie is a strong, independent woman who takes no shite from anyone, including her three husbands.

Cillian laughs, leaning over towards me to talk closer to the speaker.

"Hey there, E. Missed me so much you had to send this one after me. Eh?" The Irish lilt returning to his voice slightly.

Silence greets us, and I actually bite my cheek to hold back a laugh because this boy is about to get his ass handed to him.

Then, Evie chuckles.

"You fucking asshole," she says. I look over at Cillian, who's smiling from ear to ear.

"I never claimed to be anything less, love."

"You know I would have called bullshit in two seconds flat if you had."

They joke back and forth, bantering like brother and sister as my brows furrow.

What could Cillian have done to prove himself to her that made their relationship this easy? Hell, I took a beating from Evie to prove myself to her. I worked for her for months before we got comfortable enough to banter.

"How's that obsidian blade treating you, darling?"

Thank goodness I just put the car in park because my whole body turns to Cillian at that moment, shock evident on my face. He gifted her that blade? Evie holds very few things close, but that blade was the tool she used to seal her revenge.

"Eh, it's okay. Does the job I guess."

Cillian puts a hand over his chest, looking offended. "Excuse me?" He inches closer to the speaker, his body pressing against mine as that scent of sweet grass and fresh air wafts over me.

Why did I choose such a tiny ass car for this mission?

Evie snorts, and I fight the urge to get out of the car and head to her just so I can slap her.

Why do I feel this way? Why does Cillian's charm mean anything to me?

"We're at the airstrip," I inform her, cutting Cillian off a little more abruptly than necessary.

He doesn't seem to mind, just slides back into his seat comfortably.

"Great. Get back here and we'll debrief tomorrow. Send the info to me about the bug so we can record and listen through the night while you two are in the air. Ness, see if Boris doesn't mind Cillian staying with you guys until we can meet up. I don't want Cillian at a hotel, and our guest suite isn't ready yet."

"You got it," I say with a nod, even as bile rises in my throat. Evie has no idea about mine and Cillian's past, so she doesn't have a clue how much she is really asking of me right now.

"Be good, Cil," Evie says.

"Never," he says with a cheeky grin before shooting a wink my way.

He ends the call before I get the chance to say goodbye. I move to slap him, but he's already getting out of the car.

"What the feck was that?" I ask, slamming the door behind me as we walk towards our awaiting plane.

"What?" He feigns bashfulness, but I march right up to him and punch him in the shoulder, more mad than I have any right to be at the moment.

"That is your boss. Treat her like it."

Cillian shrugs as he opens the trunk and grabs my bag.

"Nah, it's more fun to mess with her."

My mouth hangs open as I try to snatch my rifle from him, I'm very particular about who touches my things. Yet, he carefully maneuvers out of my way before walking up the stairs to the private jet.

Once we get inside, he places my bag in the coat closet, right where I normally keep it.

I tilt my head as he heads to the back and kicks off his shoes before undoing his belt and tossing them in the other closet. This is Boris' plane, no one but me and a few select people have ever been on it before. Yet, Cillian knows exactly where everything is.

"Grab me a blanket?" I ask, testing my theory.

As if on autopilot, he leans over and opens the bench seat, grabbing my favorite red blanket in favor of the dark gray one and hands it to me. His hand freezes as I accept it with a smirk on my face.

"How long have you known I was alive?" I ask, watching his face go pale.

He lets out a scoff while unbuttoning his pants and sitting across from me, then reclines the chair and tilts his head back.

"I thought you were dead for almost a year now."

"How do you know this plane, Cillian?"

He's silent for a minute. "I got the news you were dead and panicked." Stretching his legs, he lets out a yawn. "I knew you were with the old man, so I looked through all of his houses and assets to see if you were hiding out in any of them."

I spread the blanket over me, reclining my own chair as the cabin doors are sealed.

"Why?" If he knew I was with Boris, why would he care? How did he even know?

"I needed to know." It's quiet, like he didn't really want to give me the answer.

I think back to the time after the building collapsed. The weeks I spent recovering in the hospital. Then I think about all of the moments after that. When Boris and I fell in love and how we had to fight for what we had.

I think about those nights when I woke up screaming, stuck in that burning building in my mind. All of the times Boris raced to my side before deciding one night he wasn't going to leave.

Boris has been my person, my rock, for so long that I forgot what it was like to be afraid. He's made me feel like the woman I always wanted to be. But during all of that, Cillian had been there in the shadows, looking for me.

"I was in the tower with him, hiding from my father," I admit quietly.

"That was the one place I couldn't bring myself to look." Cillian sits up, eyeing me as my brows furrow in confusion.

"If I found you there, hiding away with him…" he trails off, a blank, distant look in his eyes before he snaps back and continues.

"I don't think my heart could have taken it." I suck in a breath as he stands, crowding my face. "You have always been it for me, A stór."

I shake my head. I used to love that name, cherished it deep in my heart, even as the world around me turned dark and ugly. But the truth is, I'm no one's treasure. I don't want to be the thing locked away in a box and fought over.

"I'm not a treasure, Killer. Don't put me on a pedestal. I fight with the best of them now."

He leans into me, our noses almost touching as he closes his eyes and inhales.

"Alright, Sweetheart. I believe you."

Abruptly, he stands and goes back to his chair, getting comfortable once again as the plane begins to take off. I have a question I've been itching to ask since the second I saw him, and now that I feel the shift between us, maybe it's the right time.

"What's the red tattoo on your neck for?" I ask, bringing the blanket up to my chin, the adrenaline of the day settling into a tired numbness.

"Love." Cillian turns on his side away from me, falling asleep swiftly as my mind runs through all of the things that could mean. One thing I'll never forget is the night four years ago when I lost my virginity to Cillian. He cuddled me close and drew a red Celtic knot on my hand. The trinity knot, the same one on his neck.

‘For love, for us, for forever,' he whispered in my ear as we fell asleep in each other's arms.

The plane lands a few hours later, and I wake with anxiety twisting my gut. Cillian is going to be staying with me and my boyfriend. Although, Boris feels like so much more than that.

He was the man who literally helped me put myself back together, get my life together, all while keeping me hidden from my father and his fecked up crew of Reapers.

He knows who Cillian used to be to me. The moment we step into the house, I know he's going to question my feelings, and it will put him on edge. I'm determined to make sure that doesn't happen.

"Morning, Sweetheart," Cillian says, standing to stretch as the cabin doors open.

I do the same, realizing I slept with all of my weapons tied close around my waist. Cillian eyes them as I stand to stretch as well.

"Think I was going to make a move on you in your sleep?" A devious smile dances on his lips.

I laugh, flipping my hair over my shoulder and turning to grab my bag to walk off the plane.

"You never would have stood a chance."

A deep chuckle causes butterflies to erupt in my stomach as he approaches from behind, pulling my bag off of my shoulders. He leans into my ear, his breath tickling me.

"Check your pocket if you think that's true."

I tilt my head, our noses brushing as I slip my hand into my pocket to find a note. I pull it out, but it's then that I notice the pen behind his ear. I would put money on the fact that he just slipped that into my pants when he took my bag from me.

Two can play at that game. I sigh, leaning into him and his arm casually wraps around me, as if we hadn't spent a day apart for the last three years of our lives. His lips brush my forehead, and I soak in the feeling of calm, safety, home .

Then, I pull away quickly, careful not to let my feelings stray too far. "You check yours, Killer."

His eyes widen as he pulls the note he left me out of his pants and a booming laugh leaves his lips, so loud that I can hear it even when he's outside the plane.

An easy smile comes to my face as we get into my car, a deep plum mustang that I paid for with my own hard-earned money; I even had it upgraded with a special engine.

If this man thought I was fast with the little BMW I rented before, he's going to shit his pants in the five-point harness in my car.

I can't feckin' wait.