Page 57 of Líadan's Code

The girl she’s addressing actually laughs, giving me goosebumps because while Líadan’s laughter is a little rusty, it’s so fucking beautiful.

“God, I wish Brendan had been here to hear that,” I say softly, blinking hard. “How long has it been since you’ve laughed?”

“Years,” she murmurs, with a small smile as she watches Layla. “It wasn’t even that funny, I just love the big ole ‘fuck you’ she gave after Bruin scared the shit out of her. You can’t convince me he wasn’t back there. It’s what he does.”

“Layla doesn’t scare easily,” I agree, squeezing her knee.

“This next song is called ‘Just a Pretty Face’ and it’s one of my favorite songs,” Layla says. I love this song. They’re both largely underestimated, and the world is wrong every time they do.

It's your move, we’ll back you up.

Brendan

I’ve been watching everything from the shadows, gritting my teeth as things unfold. There’s been more than one time that I’ve wanted to jump into action, but I can’t. Not yet.

Watching Layla walk alone after her set was the hardest as the whispers began in anticipation of finding out who won the auction. It reminds me too much of how I failed Lía when she was seventeen, and the memories are riding me hard.

“I wonder if she sighs as pretty while she’s being stuffed with cock,” travels to me, making my hand fist. When he reaches out and grabs Layla as she starts to pass me in my hidey hole, I take a step to help her. Thankfully, Layla shakes him off and kicks him, making me smirk.

I know there are men spread out through this building that are here to get her out as soon as shit hits the fan. As I moved through the club earlier like a ghost, I noticed that they have the same deadly grace I do.

She won’t be sold. Layla will be safe.

Ghosting through the shadows from the low light, I watch as Seán is left alone with the tiny blonde songbird, and he sends away the rest of his men. Even Cormac is sent away grumbling. And I smile a smile that would scare the shit out of normal people.

It’s almost time.

I can’t hear what Layla says as Seán snarls and fists her hair in anger. Jordan stiffens as he takes a breath, his hands rising as if to calm him down. Remembering the ill formed plan to let his niece handle this, he drops them even as his chest heaves from the shot of adrenaline.

Líadan’s lips are moving as she speaks to her father, and I imagine she’s telling him to let her go. I think the bull has been poked too many times, baby. It’s time to let him make a mistake now. As I move closer, I hear Layla boldly say, “Make me.”

I imagine Líadan would be a lot like this if her father hadn’t tried to break her spirit. Layla’s fingers grapple against Seán’s grasp, but I realize she’s not trying to get away. Layla is pulling a sharp pin from her hair, though everyone else is too engrossed in their own shit to notice.

Except my Lía. She sees the glint of metal, tracking it as her lips twist in gruesome approval for a moment. Then, as quickly as it appears, it’s gone again.

“Stupid bitch! Oye, Cormac, start tallying up the bids while I teach this little girl a lesson. I want to know who will get the pleasure of breaking her in,” Seán snarls. He yanks her closer, allowing Layla to slap him across the face in anger.

I love the ferocity in her features as she screams, refusing to be manhandled.

“Daddy, stop!” Líadan cries out, though it’s purely for show. When things shake out, she’ll want the world to know that she warned him.

Seán slaps Layla back, making me wince as her head snaps back. Somehow, she keeps her hold on the pin, gasping for air for a moment.

Whispering something I can’t hear, she pushes her knee between his legs to rest on the chair. The little minx is going to make her move. It happens quickly as Seán says, “Women are weak,” he hisses. “I will be pulling the strings while my daughter does whatever I fooking tell her to do.”

The fire in Lía’s eyes tell me she knows this is the only way for us to be free. Her father will never allow her to lead the Families, will never allow her to love me, not unless he’s pulling the strings. The Banshee is done.

“Why are fathers such a disappointment?” Layla asks loudly, practically straddling Seán’s waist now. She’s vying for purchase as she hides the long, sharp pin against the palm of her hand. The old man isn’t able to see that he’s the one currently being played.

“Tianna McCall is the winning bid,” Cormac yells out just as Layla plunges the pin deep into Seán’s neck.

I can’t see his face, but Lía and Jordan’s faces of triumph tell me everything I need to know, even as her eyes fill with fake tears. The mafia king is headed to see his maker: the devil himself.

My girl would never shed a real tear for him. They all dried up six years ago.

Layla struggles to pull out another pin to finish what she’s started, and her hair tumbles down her back.

“Boss?” one of Seán’s men asks, taking a step toward where Layla is sitting. Sticking out my foot, I trip and shove him as he’ll go down hard, rolling my eyes when he manages to knock himself out on a chair beside him.

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