Page 30 of Líadan's Code

“You’ll see why it’s complicated in a moment,” Brendan says with a sigh. “I was hoping it would happen later, but fuck it. Here she is.”

There’s a four door car that pulls up, and Brendan opens the back door. Carefully walking around the broken bottle glass I see on the sidewalk, I climb in. There’s a girl with long raven-colored hair piled on her head, and as I inhale deeply, I smell cinnamon.

My body tightens as I pull my feet inside, my eyes narrowing as I stare at the girl. I can’t see her features with the way the rearview mirror is set up, and I barely notice as Brendan gets into the passenger side seat.

“What the hell is going on?” I growl.

“While people call me the Banshee, I tend to go by Líadan,” she says, glancing over her left shoulder as she pulls back into traffic.

“Lovely,” I sigh. “Absolutely fucking perfect. More goddamn torture.”

“No,” Brendan retorts, turning to face me. Now that I’m focusing on him, I try to figure out if he’s Líadan’s partner. She wasn’t alone the other night. “Milseán, breathe.”

Yep, fuck me.

“I am breathing, Brendan,” she mutters. “Why is everyone on the damn road today? And why is Jordan barefoot?”

“Bruin is a dickhead,” he says with a smirk. “I always drive you everywhere or you walk. Maybe you should drive more.”

“The Banshee is a passenger princess and a brat,” I muse. “Interesting.”

“No one knows that’s who I am,” Liádan says. “It’s also important no one ever knows until I’m ready for them to know. I’m Seán O’Brien’s only daughter.”

“Motherfucker, are you kidding me right now?” I roar. “Princess, that’s a lot to fucking swallow.”

“Ugh, don’t call me that,” she sighs. “I’m so not a princess. I’ve had to fight for everything I have. You don’t know my life, and I know this is kind of a shock…”

“I haven’t seen you in two years, but I’ve thought of you in passing often,” I tell her. “I didn’t peg you as a mafia boss’ daughter. He’s fucking crazy.”

“Yep,” she says, bobbing her head as she takes a semi wild turn around a corner.

My stomach flip flops and Brendan turns to face the road, his left hand clenching as if he wishes there was some sort of handbrake. I know the move well, because I did it often while I tried to teach Layla how to drive.

It didn’t go well.

“Alright, Princess, watch your speed for me, okay?” I say, willing her to take her foot off the accelerator.

Realizing she’s going too fast finally, she eases up her lead foot.

“Shit,” she mutters. “Almost home.”

Taking a breath, I nod as I watch her. I’m going to table this conversation until she’s not driving.

“The situation is complicated, in a lot of ways,” Brendan says. “Lía and I have never had a torture session go the way yours had. It just happened.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever come while having my cock stroked with an electric rod before either,” I admit, rubbing my neck, hissing.

The areas where she pushed the electric prod into my skin are tender. The inside of my thigh has a purple bruise on it, and I’m sure my neck looks the same. I have a kaleidoscope of bruises all over my body right now.

To make things worse, things seem to be very complicated.

“There’s a parking spot, Lía,” Brendan prompts her.

She manages to park decently, turning off the car with a relieved sigh. Brendan squeezes her hand before he gets out of the vehicle and I follow. Lía joins us on the sidewalk as she locks the car, leading the way to a pretty townhome. If I look across the street, I realize I recognize the market I met her at.

It makes sense that she lives close by.

“Daddy only let me move out two years ago,” she says as she climbs the stairs to the front door. “He never comes here, and in exchange I do whatever he wants me to.”

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