Page 20 of Destructive Truths

Lorcan is silent for a moment, and I can almost hear the thoughts racing around his head. Finally, after several prolonged seconds, his eyes narrow on me. “There is only one reason you’d be so hell-bent on helping the future queen of the Leinster Syndicate. What makes you think you deserve her?”

This time, I will give him the God’s honest truth. “I don’t. But I won’t let that stop me from trying to become what she needs.”

TWELVE

SAOIRSE

Since leaving Lorcan alone on the pier, I’ve spent every second trying to unravel the plethora of thoughts clogging my brain. I was so wrapped up in my concern for Rohan and his well-being I never thought to question why he’d be calling from Liam’s phone. Both have made it known there’s no love lost between them, yet somehow, Rohan had Liam’s phone. It makes no sense.

Not to mention the message Lorcan delivered. How can Rohan be so quick to discard me, especially after the night we shared at the manor? On the one hand, I feel like a fucking idiot for allowing myself to fall for Rohan’s pretty words and sinful touch, only to be tossed aside like a forgotten toy. Maybe I should’ve heeded Liam’s warning, but I was so caught up in the rush of danger that comes with falling for a guy like Rohan King that I forgot to take caution with something as fragile as my heart.

Then, on the other hand, I can’t ignore how Rohan made me feel when we were together, and if I were to play back every moment, it would only confirm what I already knew… He felt it, too. It was clear when he lowered his walls around me and in how he worshipped my body as if I were the air he needed to breathe.

I close my eyes tight, fighting through the confusion. Conflict ping-pongs between my head and my heart, and I don’t know which one to listen to anymore. One thing is for certain, something isn’t adding up, and just like every other part of my new life, the people around me have left me in the dark.

Honestly, I’m fucking sick of it at this point. I’m done being the clueless girl sinking into a quicksand of lies. No more waiting on truths to be revealed. It’s time to find some answers, and I know exactly where to start.

My feet pound against the wooden floorboards as I trudge through the cabin, giving my foul mood its very own soundtrack titled “Times Up, Mother.”

Is this what reaching my breaking point feels like? My body vibrates with undiluted anger—at my mam for shielding me from the inevitable, at Lorcan for bowing out of my life when I needed him to guide me, and at Rohan for chipping away at my heart and taking something from me when he had no intention of giving it the care he promised. I’m seconds away from blowing my top, and I don’t give two shits about who gets caught in the aftermath.

Finally, I burst into the living room and find my mam with her back towards me, staring out the window, arms folded across her chest. My abrupt entrance causes her to peer over her shoulder, and I get a good look at her for the first time since the night I ran at her request. Her eyes are heavy, sunk-in, and surrounded by dark circles, and her cheeks appear hollower than before, making her high cheekbones stand out like sharp edges on her once-rounded face. Her long dark hair, identical to my own, could do with some taming—if the stray strands flying in every direction are anything to go by. She looks a little worse for wear, and the part of me that loves her unconditionally aches to run to her, wrap my arms around her, and never let go. But then I remember all the deceit she’s weaved, a well-constructed web I’ve become trapped in, and the sadness I feel at her stressed appearance fades.

“I’m done waiting for answers.” I hold her gaze, keeping my shoulders squared and my chin high, leaving no room for argument.

As she turns to face me, her chest expands with an exhale. Defeat lingers in the slouch of her shoulders, but with a wave of her hand, she gestures towards the armchair next to the electric fireplace. My eyes home in on the empty seat, reluctant to do anything she asks, but my need for answers outweighs my stubborn streak.

Once I’m settled, my mam lowers onto the couch directly across from me, separated by only an old rustic coffee table. Silence pollutes the room, drawing out the tension between us, but I hold strong, unwilling to beg her for the answers I’m entitled to.

Her hands fidget, fingers tapping against her thighs. All the while, I keep my eyes trained on hers. Finally, she draws in an audible breath before expelling it with a heavy exhale. “I suppose I should start at the beginning.”

“That’s usually how stories unfold.”

Her face tightens as she briefly draws her eyes closed. “I know you’re angry, Saor. And you have every right to be, but please refrain from the sarcasm.” Her gaze flicks towards the floor. “This isn’t easy for me to share… especially with my teenage daughter. Please, hold judgement until you hear what I say.”

Slumping back into the chair, I cross my arms over my chest. “Fine. I’m listening.”

Her grey eyes capture mine, and in their depths, a storm brews. “When I was seventeen, I was engaged to Gabriel King.”

I dart forward, nearly falling off the chair as my eyes round into full-moon saucers. “You were what?” My jaw hangs open, and my nose scrunches with disgust. “How? Or, more importantly, why?”

“We were in love, or so I thought.” Stunned silent by the fact my mother had once been in a very serious relationship with Rohan’s dad, I blink in disbelief as bile simmers in my gut. Speaking from experience, that man is a fucking snake. Thank God, that relationship ended because… just, no.

“So, what happened?”

“Well, right before my eighteenth birthday, I found out he’d been sleeping with one of my best friends behind my back. They’d been seeing each other for a few months, and I’d never suspected a thing.”

“No,” I gasp. “He slept with Fiadh?”

“No, Fiadh would never betray me like that, but I can’t afford the same sentiment to her twin sister, Elouise.”

Well, that statement has a lot to unpack, but it explains the distaste in Fiadh’s mouth when she showed me the group photo in her office the day I arrived. Elouise’s name slid off her tongue wrapped in poison, and the tension on her face when I asked about it was hard to ignore. I wonder if Fiadh’s hatred of her sister has anything to do with my mam’s backstory?

Before I can ask, my mam continues. “For weeks, Gabriel tried to deny everything. He showed up daily, begging me to take him back, saying it was all one big misunderstanding. And naïve me, I almost believed him. Until…” She sighs, gulping back the emotion in her eyes.

“Until what?”

“Elouise showed up at my introduction party—I had won my fight against Gabriel the week before. And in true syndicate style, they held a party in my honour. That night, Elouise dragged me into the restroom and shoved a pregnancy test in my face, claiming Gabriel was the father.”

---