Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

Líadan

I 'm watching people saunter into the warehouse from an alcove, hidden from searching eyes. I'm people-watching as I let them talk, but only because I want to listen to what they have to say when I'm not around.

There's not a mask over my face, though my hood is over my head, since it's cold in the warehouse. My features are impassive and stern as I watch people mill around, unaware that I'm listening.

"The little brat is making waves," Tianna Mccall says, glaring at her knife as she speaks to the man next to her. She was the woman who won Layla in the auction, and she's still a bit salty about it.

Cormac took all the money from the auction since they paid in full ahead of time for the pleasure of playing. "I don't understand why we're all listening to Líadan fucking O'Brien as if she's a vengeful God."

"She's worse than a God," Brendan grunts, plucking the knife from her hand and dropping it into a bin with other weapons. "Lía doesn't have a conscience. I've watched her nail a man's balls to the floor for shits and giggles, and still lament that she wished she had more time to play."

My lips twist secretly in satisfaction, because I did say that just this morning.

"Fuck," Patrick grunts. They were all asked to leave their human pets at home or wherever they're staying, and I can see he's missing them as he reaches down for an invisible leash.

These people have become their support. It would almost be sweet if the skewed relationship wasn't so fucked.

Their menageries and pets are pretty ornaments or sex slaves to tend to their owners' needs. They have no rights and no control.

"We're sitting ducks with you taking all of our weapons," Patrick growls. "Is she even going to show?"

Angry shouts erupt from them all, though I'm not worried yet. I have a wireless microphone clipped to the lapel of my coat, so I can be heard over everyone.

"Where the fuck is Cormac? Shouldn't he have been invited to this so he can force her to give over leadership? What is a little girl going to do with an empire like ours?" Tianna snarls. "We have shipments to focus on and a patriarch to bury."

And there we are.

The news of Cormac's death and the burned out husk of his home haven't made it to this group. Wonderful.

Turning on my mic, I step out from my hiding spot. In the gloom of the warehouse, it looks as if I stepped out of thin air, startling people as they see me.

"Cormac is indisposed," I murmur, my voice carrying well as they all shut the fuck up. All forty people who were invited came to hear me out, but three. Those three were the ones that I killed at Cormac's house, and the other ten are those that I diverted to another facility.

The full list of those who were at the auction wasn't a possibility to wrangle, as some have died from various causes over the last six years. I would rather be able to have some revenge and closure than none at all.

"Fucking freak show," someone snarls as I push off my hood to show my face. I touched up my makeup after the fire to clear off any lingering soot or sweat.

"Hmm, I don't think I'm the one who is the freak show in this room," I say. "Cormac firebombed my house a few nights ago, so I nailed his balls to his pretty hardwood floor in retaliation before burning him and some of his cronies alive within it."

"He pissed himself," Brendan says with a dark chuckle. "We are here to discuss the disbanding of all human trafficking immediately. I know you're the people who will disagree with this the most."

Tossing the bin with weapons on a table next to him to keep his hands free, he waits for me to speak.

"My father allowed trafficking because it kept you all happy, but I don't have the same respect for you," I state. "As you look around, I ask you to think about who isn't here. If you think that what I'm going to do today is heinous, I invite you to think from the view of a woman who was sold by her own father. I don't have a soul or a conscience because of him."

The building has been rigged with explosives in certain areas by Rory's demolition team, and I have the remote in my hand. There are video cameras that are heavy duty enough to withstand the fire, so I can view their terror and deaths at my leisure, allowing me to slip out without a care.

"Eh, boo hoo, whiny little bitch," Tianna snarls, spitting at me. I step back, allowing it to hit my feet harmlessly.

Brendan sighs, picking up the first thing from the weapons bin, which is a stun gun he lifted off someone's person. He frisked everyone over, though without strip searching this group, it's impossible to find everything.

Turning it on, he takes two steps forward and shoves it into Tianna's throat as he depresses the button. The volts of electricity push into her body, making her legs fold like a cheap card table.

"And this," Brendan growls, chest heaving as he looks around, "is what is wrong with you all. Thinking it's totally normal to sell a seventeen-year-old girl's virginity away."

Kicking Tianna's body to the side, he steps back, his hand landing on my hip to encourage me to follow him.

"They won't say anything that won't simply piss you off or ring in your ears to taunt you, milseán. Get it done, and I'll treat you to fudge before our fun," he grunts under his breath.

Deciding fudge does sound better than this, I find the remote in my coat pocket, rubbing the trigger button to detonate the explosives that will trap them in the basement of the warehouse. All the doors are sealed in the floor below us, and there's been gasoline splattered down there as well.

Shrugging, I decide that protecting my peace is more important to me, something I rarely get the option to do. Ensuring I'm far enough away, I say, "I hope you all say hi to Daddy for me in Hell."

Pushing the button down hard, I watch the smug or amused faces change to horror as the explosives detonate. The floor swallows them whole as they scream, falling down into the basement. The gasoline lights up from the spark of the explosion, and I can feel the warmth on my skin as I continue to walk back with Brendan, until he pulls me out the side door.

The screams follow me as we walk out to a car whose keys he lifted off someone inside, but the smile remains on my face. No one will survive this.

We took the bus here, but a car does make things easier when escaping a crime scene.

I don't bother to call emergency services, because there's nothing close enough to burn down. By the time anyone notices, everyone and everything will be ash.

"How do you feel, milseán ?" Brendan asks as he turns onto the road.

Turning in my seat, I watch as smoke slowly begins to curl out of the building. The fist that's been tightly holding my heart loosens, allowing me to take a deep breath. I feel an emotion I don't understand as I sit back in my seat, though my eyes remain dry.

"I… don't know how to describe it," I say softly. "The inner noise in my head is so quiet. It's kind of peaceful."

"Good," he says with a nod. "I hope they use their souls to roast marshmallows over in Hell."

A giggle escapes me, surprising me as I clap my hand over my mouth. It's incredibly inappropriate to laugh about this, but Brendan and I aren't normal. A moment later, we both burst into laughter, unable to help ourselves.

My best friend and lover has to pull over to the side of the road, because he can't drive properly, pulling me into his lap.

"God, I love you so much," he says, his lips slanting over mine to kiss me hard. "You're so resilient, this is just the beginning. Soon, all the chains of your past will be gone and we can rebuild. Do whatever we want."

Sighing, I lay my head down on his chest with a small smile. I can't necessarily do whatever I want, due to the damage to my body left by Bruin. As much sex as I have with Brendan, I'd already be pregnant if I could.

"Where did you just go, Lía?" he asks gruffly as I take a shuddering breath.

"I was just thinking about things that I shouldn't want," I whisper. "Or rather, things I can't have."

"You can have whatever you want, baby," he growls, tugging my head back as his fingers entangle in my hair. "We haven't spoken to specialists because you weren't ready."

"Why should I wish for something when my uterus is useless now?" I ask, the tears hot behind my eyes. "No matter what I do, nothing can fix that."

"You get a period every month, even if it's a bit sporadic," he reminds me. "Just… hold onto hope for a bit longer, okay? If it doesn't happen, then we'll decide what to do from there. I don't want you to give up so quickly on something you so obviously want."

"You would give me the world if you could, wouldn't you?" I murmur as I look up at him.

"You bet your beautiful ass I would," he mutters. "I plan to move us into a better location after today and fuck you on the balcony while you scream."

"You're going to have me freezing my tits off," I tease him, even as I shiver with need. "Do I get to come on your knife too?"

"Fuck, you're perfect. I wouldn't have it any other way, baby," he says, devouring my lips again. "Now get in your seat and buckle up. I promised you fudge before torture."

"Yes, you did," I grin, scooting back to my side of the car. Pulling the seat belt on, I click it into place as Brendan pulls back onto the road.

His phone buzzes, and Brendan frowns.

"Lía, will you check who it is? I want to make sure Rory isn't running into problems," he grunts as he drives. Snow flurries are tumbling from the sky, and I squeeze my thighs together as I watch them.

Being fucked in the snow is one of my favorite things ever. There's something about the dichotomy between the chill and the warmth of Brendan's body as he fucks me, that never fails to make me detonate.

Forcing myself to focus, I unlock Brendan's phone to check the message.

Rory:

Did you finish your errand alright?

My lips twitch at his words, thinking it sweet that he's checking on us. Rory has been very protective recently, as he's realized the full extent of what my life's been like. If I'm a princess, then I must be a cursed one.

Me:

Things got a little hot, but we're good.

"What did you tell that poor man?" Brendan asks, barking out a laugh. "I swear, you're grinning from ear to ear right now, little brat."

It appears that's my new name, but it's fairly accurate.

Glancing over at him, I tell him what I said, enjoying the way he shakes his head.

"‘I'm adding spankings, Lía," he says. "Rory is going to turn purple as he thinks about that."

"I'll deal with it when we get there," I say with a smile. "I'm looking forward to it."

Jordan

I think "obsessed" is an understatement for what I feel right now.

I'm listening to police scanners in my ear buds, following Líadan and Brendan's chaos through Chicago. My little brats are quite the pyromaniacs, setting fires throughout the city to cover their murders.

The only reason I know they're on a killing spree is because I know some of their plans based on who they're meeting with.

The streets will be running red with Líadan's wrath, and I'm proud as fuck. I usually wouldn't be so invested in mafia turf wars, but that's not what this is. She's taking back her life and the pieces of her soul bit by bit. I'm still angry, though, and it's making me petty and pissed off.

I hacked into one of the trackers that Brendan has on Líadan's person about twenty minutes ago, while working in a little coffee shop to recharge. I haven't been getting much sleep lately, not that I'd admit it.

My ego is a bit bruised that two people, I think so highly of, thought I was too old to keep up with them.

Their life is dangerous, but I should be allowed to choose if I want to be part of it or not. It's something I plan to remind them of while fucking them within an inch of their lives. My kinks are riding me hard, my need to punish my princess is trying to push itself to the forefront of my mind, but I can't do that yet.

Hopefully soon, though.

Now, I'm working my way over to a building that looks like it may be a large utility building. The fire reported to the police at a warehouse isn't far from here, and I can just hear the wail of fire trucks as they hurry over.

Líadan left the warehouse half an hour ago. I doubt they are going to be able to save any part of it, since the Princess is a perfectionist.

It boasts itself to be a construction lumber site, however, if Líadan is there, it's possible it's a front. The building was bought under an umbrella corporation, and it's difficult to find who the person behind the corporation is.

That alone screams "look at me" due to trying too hard. I'm genuinely distrustful when I see things like this.

The site is around other businesses on a side of town where everyone minds their own damn business. The bus drops me off a block away, and I cross the street as I get closer. It's a brick building with a large enclosed warehouse area, supposedly for lumber and construction purposes.

I know Rory has a construction company with his sons, so this could possibly be one of his properties.

There are a few really nice cars parked on the side of the building, screaming wealth and power. Smirking, I slip onto the property across from it, searching for a place to watch. The business appears closed today, making it easy to climb the fire escape, hack into their alarm system, and block the window motion sensor. Once done, I force the window open, certain it won't trigger the alarm.

Smirking at all my ill gotten knowledge I've acquired that no one will ever know about, I climb inside the building, shutting the window afterward to wander over to the main bank of windows facing the street.

The floor is well swept, surprisingly, so I sit on the floor, using the cameras in the area to spy as I monitor what's happening across the street. My tools of the trade are strewn on the floor in front of me.

My back twinges a bit when I lean forward, reminding me that it's been hours since I applied the medicated cream. Dammit. I'm going to need to take a detour after this to my rental before it gets worse.

Several more people arrive, and thankfully, the video cameras at the building are wired for sound so I can hear them easily.

"I hope we can convince her to keep the auctions," a woman with obviously fake hair says as she walks across the gravel parking lot with several other people. "If not, we'll go back to the dark ages and join the dark web. Those people are pathetic and malnourished, though. I prefer a youthful, healthy appearance for my pets."

"We know. We've all listened to you complain once they turn twenty-five and sell them," a man grunts. "Their holes still work just fine, Ciara. You like them so damn young, though no one in this group is about to kink shame."

My skin prickles with revulsion as I gag.

Oh fuck, I hope there aren't any kids in the auction's house. It's possible they may be in the menageries after hearing Ciara's conversation, though. Picking up my phone from the floor, I ensure that the people going into the building have a really bad fucking day.

Me:

So I heard something from a little birdie.

A few moments pass before Brendan sees my message and responds.

Brendan:

You know you're the birdie, which is code for stalker, Jor. Where are you?

Stretching my neck from side to side, I answer back.

Me:

Stalkers are just another word for someone who cares, which I don't. The video camera where you're at just happens to have the best entertainment in this town at the moment. Ciara made a mention of liking her sex slaves young. Under the age of consent or awareness kind of young. I wanted you to be able to keep that in your back pocket while you're working today.

Brendan:

Kids, fuck me. I still think the gentleman protests too much. How hard is your dick right now, knowing how beautiful Lía will be with blood splattered across her body in a moment?

Grimacing, I adjust my cock, because she's a vision while she's working.

Me:

The Princess is stunning no matter what she does, and she goddamn well knows it. Don't be a brat, you're simply collecting punishments.

Brendan :

You have to see us to collect on those, baby.

Thinking, I blow out a breath. What better time than after Seán's funeral?

Me:

I have an idea on how to make that happen. Now be a good boy and get shit started.

Text bubbles pop up and start and stop before a photo pops up. Lía's hand is wrapped around Brendan's cock, with his middle finger sticking up.

Brendan:

Yes, Sir. Know that Lía is fucking soaked at the thought.

Looking closer, I realize his finger is coated in her arousal and I almost come in my pants.

"Fucking hell, man," I groan.

This is the most dangerous thing about falling in love with two brats, the level of zero fucks they have. And I am… In love that is. If I truly didn't care, I'd walk away, back to my slightly insane life with my nieces and the record label. Instead, they pulled me under the waves, and I feel like I'm drowning without them.

That doesn't mean that I'm going to let them off easy, though.

Brendan

Smirking, I lick my finger clean as Lía so helpfully puts my cock away. I'm going to be hard for this entire "meeting", but that's alright.

"We're pushing him," Lía says with a slight chuckle.

I dragged her into a back room under the guise of talking to her, when really I wanted to show her the messages and mess with Jordan.

"Yes, I want to see what unhinged looks like on him," I say with a smirk. "He said he's going to see us soon, and I can't wait to see what he has planned. Now, shall we start with Ciara today?"

"Yes," she says, waiting until I have my clothes situated again. Opening the door, she continues to speak as we walk into the hallway and she pulls her dark locks up into a high bun to get her hair out of the way.

"Did you see all the pretty toys Rory brought for us?"

That's one way to look at it.

He strung each member of the family that we invited up, none of them knowing what's coming for them as they struggled. I immediately notice the hooks are perfectly level for the project as well.

I wonder if he's done this sort of thing before, because he's never seemed to be the squeamish type. As a mafia man, I know parts of his business aren't legal with the kind of top bids that he pulls from the city.

His sons helped him string them up, since Mickey is still clearing out the warehouse for us. He didn't mention there being any kids there though, and Joe hasn't reached out about how things are going with the retrieval of Trila O'Malley.

A long table filled with construction tools that can be used for torture are only some of the items he brought us. A few of the things I saw were a jack hammer, bolt cutter, band saw, drill, hammers, and nails. Electrical stun poles, pliers, and sturdy metal poles do nothing to calm down my erection as we walk back into the room.

"Mickey said that he found something," Rory says, brows turned down in a way that makes me frown.

"Fuck, goddamn it, it's kids, isn't it?" I groan, surprising him.

"How did you know?" he asks.

"I just got a text message saying that I may need to look at the possibility that the menageries and auctions may cater toward people who buy children," I sigh. "You just confirmed it. Thank Mickey for me. Ah, this may be a bit bloodier."

"Eh, go for it. We can blame another fire if necessary. I'm not even worried about the insurance money, though between my sons and I, we can make it look like an electrical fire later in the night," he says with a shrug. "Go wild."

"Any word on Trila?" I ask softly. Rory has been the point man for Mickey and Joe, so I may as well ask.

"He's on his way here with her," he grunts. "May as well knock them out like pins."

Nodding, Lía turns to face the ten men and women who are hanging in front of her.

"You are the worst scum of the earth," she says, raising her voice as she comes closer. There's a brand I asked Rory to bring in, one where Lía can change out the letters to say whatever she wants.

Shrugging off her sweater, she lays it over a chair, away from any possible blood splatter. Her scarf and mittens are next, she pulls a pair of latex gloves and booties for her shoes from the boxes on the table. There's also a clear raincoat, which Lía shrugs on for the sake of her clothing. Rory really is the perfect host.

"Why are you doing this," Ciara asks, eyes wide as she watches her. "We aren't doing anything to you. Our little hobbies don't hurt you."

"You don't remember my seventeenth birthday?" Lía asks, looking over the room. Shane O'Brien pales as her eyes land on him. "Daddy threw a big party and Shane won the honor of taking my virginity. Was I that unmemorable? I can fix that."

Finger running over the lighter weight jack hammer longingly, she sighs.

"Can I help?" Nathan asks, pushing off the wall to walk over. Lía doesn't usually need help, but new toys mean proper instruction on how to use it.

"Can I get a crash course on how to use it?" she asks.

"Yep, this model is light enough for you to lift it, and I can plug it in for you," he says. "Here is where you turn it on, lean your weight down on the surface you want to hammer, and then let her go."

"Thanks," she says with a happy smile.

Nathan gives her a stern look, handing her safety glasses. "You'll only look silly for a little while, and they're meeting the devil soon enough," he says.

Lía doesn't say a word about how she doesn't care what people think of her, but takes the glasses and puts them on. She looks beautiful in them, and I watch as she lifts the jack hammer with a slight grunt, moving it over to where she wants.

"I see you remember me, Shane," she croons. "I couldn't remember faces or names because I blocked them all out, but Daddy kept fantastic records. You had a son as well, right? Brendan, I think I may need Shane moved a bit. Can you help?"

"You got it," I murmur, moving to help her as I ignore the cry of outrage as Shane glances at his son who looks on in horror.

"You want him laid out on the ground, Lía?"

"Yes, please," she says, moving back to view the room. "Oh, these eye plates are perfectly placed, Rory."

The old man flushes with pleasure as I work with Nathan to move Shane. "This building has heard a few screams, and the walls and floors wash clean with a little elbow grease," he says with a shrug.

"I have tubs of boiled lye to throw them in to dissolve what you leave whole, so go wild. I doubt I'll need to burn the place down."

"You bastard!" Shane screams. This is the man who ignored her screams as he took Lia's virginity, so he's largely ignored as I tie him down, spreadeagle to the ground. Lía's nightmares have told me a little about that night when she thrashes as her subconscious remembers things her mind won't allow her to in the light.

"Do you want his clothes cut off, beautiful?" I ask her. Speaking to her with nicknames and sweet words could undermine her credibility, but when you're holding a jackhammer I feel as if you can get away with it.

"I mostly need his pants pulled off," she states, making Nathan wince as he gets to work without being asked. In a sense, these men are still soldiers, and she's running this show.

Shane's sad, shriveled penis droops along his body as he continues to scream and flail. It's still pretty impressive while flaccid, making my lip curl that Lía had to endure his cock at all.

The people behind him have front row seats as we work, and they're unfortunately just as loud.

"How's the insulation in here?" I ask, straightening and stepping back. "Do I need to gag these fuckers?"

Rory looks unbothered as he shakes his head, taking a seat and pouring himself a bit of whiskey into a tumbler. "Nope. I made sure the walls didn't betray any noise at all. No one can hear anything from the street," he says.

Stepping back as I watch Nathan plug in the jackhammer, he says, "It's live, Líadan. Go ahead."

Lifting the tool up, she presses down on Shane's dick.

"The possibilities of you living through this aren't great," Lía says with an evil grin. Walking over because his screams are giving me a headache, I pull off one of the gloves from his hands and shove it deep into his mouth, enjoying the way he gags around it, way too much.

Taking a cleansing breath, Lía sighs, relaxing. This much noise can be overwhelming.

Turning, I shrug as I see the brand.

"The next person to scream, gets their dick or ass branded," I tell them loudly, shifting over to begin changing the letters out to say Rapist . Lía can change it later if she wants.

These people are giving me a goddamn headache.

"I wasn't going to say anything, but you're a pitiful group," Rory growls, rubbing his temple as he takes another sip of whiskey. "Carry on, girlie."

Spitting in Shane's face, Lía says, "Burn in hell, fucker."

The sound of the jackhammer is music to my ears as it destroys not only Shane's cock, but most of his pelvis area. Somehow, he's still alive, and I arrange the brand for Lía, even going so far as to heat it for her.

Rory really did set us up with everything here.

Lía enjoys her time with Shane, reaching out for the brand to sear it into his forehead. The man's heart gives out at about this point, but there's a maniacal grin on her face and that's all I care about.

"Next!" Nathan yells out as Joe walks into the room with Trila. She's bound and gagged, and he makes a point to come through the back of the building to keep curious eyes behind.

"It looks like a party," Joe yells out, tossing Trila hard. Her body slides and rolls across the floor, right through the gore left behind by Shane.

Snickering, I watch as she realizes what she's laying in. Oops. She can stay there for a little while.

Joe and Nathan take Shane away, using hoses to spray the rest of the mess into large drains. There is way more to the Macdonald men than meets the eye, and I'm here for it personally.

Trila ends up soaking wet and still covered in someone else's blood, which is fitting for the amount of misery she's responsible for.

Joe gave us all the gift of gagging her, so we all ignore her as Lía gets more and more creative with each person hanging from the ceiling. Every one of us cheers, makes snarky comments, and supports her as she finds her vengeance.

Funny enough, Shane's son pissed himself while my girl cut his dick off and fed it to him. Every person got the hot brand and death helps her find a piece of her soul, even if it is slightly dented and blackened.

Mickey joins us with a sigh as he surveys the kill room, joining Rory for a drink.

Lía turns from where she's driving a hot poker up Ciara's ass as I make the word Child from the contents of letters for the brand so we can mark the sick bitch twice.

Ciara is the last of the group we brought in, and the bodies have steadily been dropped into the steaming barrels of lye. Joe even assisted with the chainsaw to help turn them into more manageable pieces.

Teamwork makes the dream work, after all.

Líadan is working a bit quicker than her normal pace, but I don't blame her. She doesn't usually have this many people to torture at once. Her cheeks are streaked with blood despite the raincoat and the hood, and I walk over to her to press a kiss against her neck.

"Can I help?" I murmur against her skin as she nods. Her muscles are trembling from the beginning of exhaustion, which is more than enough reason to give her my strength. Ciara is gritting her teeth as she screams, but she doesn't seem to realize that this is just the start of her pain.

Wrapping my hands on the thin poker, I smirk as Joe and Nathan work on sharpening a thick metal pole into a point. Child predators don't get to leave this world easily. Helping Líadan heal is one of the best ways I get to love her.

The poker slides through like butter, the only reason Lía was having difficulty was due to exhaustion. Doing the heavy lifting for her, I ask her to go get some water and sit down. Rory sees as she leaves to walk over, and he grabs a bottle of water and soda.

"Adrenaline crash, huh?" Is all he asks as he opens the cap on the bottle and hands it to her.

Lía nods, taking a deep sip as I pull out the poker in exchange for the pole, and I see her tired eyes sparkle as she watches.

It's like foreplay to perform for her, her thighs struggling not to rub together. Grunting, I shove it deeper until it explodes out of Ciara's stomach. Lía puts aside the bottle of water to walk over and pick up the brand, stepping around the gore.

Time seems to stop as Lía brands her as a Child Rapist, smirking as Ciara screams.

"Fucking trash," Lía growls. "You prey on children because no one else wants you. I wasn't loved as a child, either, but even I am more emotionally balanced than you are, bitch. Fuck. Can I get a gun, please? She's pathetic, and I think the Devil will be better suited for the rest of her punishment."

Moving out of the way, I shift to give her my gun, but Mickey beats me to it.

"There's nothing I despise more than a child predator or someone who sells them," he growls, handing her the firearm. "Have at it, but I would love to assist with Trila."

"I'll accept the help," Lía says tiredly. "I think I may need to eat something."

"I'm an idiot," Rory mutters, moving to grab some snacks and put them on the table. "Snacks and soda are here as soon as you pull that trigger, Líadan. You have an incredible flair for torture. I think my boys and Mickey would like to have a chance to assist."

"I'll gladly take the help," Lía says, raising the gun and killing Ciara without hesitation. Watching that woman's eyes grow wide as my girl shows her how much she is not fucking around fills me with pride.

Líadan was failed by so many people growing up, including me, and she's very intent in helping to protect those who can't do it for themselves.

At this proximity, Ciara is dead the moment the bullet passes through her brain, and Lía hands the gun back to Mickey. Seeing my girl is weaving on her legs, I pull off her raincoat, tossing it clear of any blood, and scoop her off her feet. Lía tenses and I shake my head.

"No one is going to pass judgment, sweet girl," I murmur.

"Absolutely fucking not," Rory says, pushing the seat out for her. "You are, however, going to eat this and drink the soda. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Sir," she says with a shaky smile as she takes the protein bar he offers her.

"A snack and a show," I tease as I sit next to her as Mickey and the Macdonald men circle around Trila and proceed to curb stomp her into the ground.

My hand is heavy on Lía's thigh as she watches unflinchingly while she eats, my thumb ghosting along her legging-covered thigh to ground her. Líadan is quickly learning who she can count on from our allies, and I have to say these men are passing with flying colors.