Page 26 of When Kings Rise

"I didn’t know where else to go, and I know we are not exactly friends, but we could be friends. I mean, in different circumstances—"

"Shush for a moment. We need to get you warm. Take off your clothes," I interrupt her. All I can do is wonder what has happened. And why has she come to me.

Niamh looks around my apartment for the first time and hesitates.

"Oh, for Peter’s sake. I’ll turn around. Take off those clothes, and wrap yourself in the blanket from the couch. Really. How can you possibly still be shy with me?" We have seen each other naked and even heard each other’s cries of pleasure.

Niamh’s cheeks pinken, but she nods, and I turn around to give her some time to get changed. I hear the wet clothes hit the floor and then it sounds like she settles herself onto the couch.

“Okay,” she whispers, her voice still trembling.

She’s wrapped herself in the thick blanket, and more color floods her face, but her shivers are still there, still visible in her hands that tighten on the blanket.

I sit down beside her."Now, how did you find me?" I ask.

"It was an ordeal," she says.

"All right?"

She nods and pauses as if trying to gather her thoughts. "I had my phone, but I don’t have it anymore. I mean, oh God, I am so cold."

I want answers but I don’t press any further. Instead, I get up and move to the kitchen to put on the kettle. I get down a cup and make her a steaming cup of tea. She accepts it and wraps her cold fingers around the mug.

I wait as she takes a few sips. But there is a wildness in her gaze, as if she’s afraid.

"You're safe here, Niamh."

I can't help but feel a twinge of something—pity, perhaps. Her presence here, in my home, is a testament to her desperation.

"I found your parents' address online. Most addresses are online if you’ve lived in one place for a long while," she confesses, her voice steadier now with the warmth of the tea seeping into her bones.

The mention of my parents sends a jolt through me. "You went to my parents?!" I can't keep the shock from my voice, the thought of Niamh encountering them, of all people.

"And I’m so sorry that I did. I just assumed that you were living at home like Amira and me. I didn’t realize that your parents are—"

"—assholes," I finish for her, a bitter laugh escaping me. It's a harsh word but fitting. Their estrangement is a wound that's never fully healed.

"YES. I’m so glad you said it," she agrees, a flicker of a smile gracing her lips.

"My parents gave you this address?" The very idea that they'd help, even slightly, is surprising.

"Yes, but it was a trip getting here. I was jogging, and then I needed to find you. It has been raining for hours. I tripped, and my phone went into a gutter, but I still have this!" Niamh raises her fist, clutching something tightly.

"And what is this?" I ask.

Niamh opens her hand to reveal a business card with a phone number on it.

"A guy’s phone number, and I shouldn’t have it." She looks down at the card with a frown.

“Okay?” I have no idea where this is going. Does she no longer want to marry Diarmuid? Is this what it’s all about?

Niamh releases a long sigh. “I wanted to find out more about Andrew O’Sullivan, Diarmuid’s uncle who was murdered.”

I nod. “I heard about that.”

“So, I went to the village where his body was found.”

“I bumped into Rian, a podcaster who likes to look into unsolved murders. He was looking into the case of Andrew O’Sullivan. It wasn’t just Andrew’s body found at the burial site; they found a woman’s, too.”

---