Page 19 of The Chief's Captive

"He was talking to Connor. Ro, we gotta stop this."

I watch Ronan's face as his eyes go wide, and curiosity gets the better of me. I look over his shoulder to see a man whose face is so bloodied I can't tell he's human. Horror and shock wash over me, and I feel nauseous. Ronan pushes me backward until I'm standing, covering my breasts so his men don't see them. I keep my back turned, but I think I'm the least of their interest.

Ronan leans in and grips my cheek again, planting a firm kiss on my lips. His stubble scrapes my already kiss-swollen lips,and he grumbles, "Let's continue this later." Then he rushes out, and I scramble to find my clothing. If it weren't bad enough to be walked in on, seeing that stripped every ounce of desire for Ronan O'Rourke out of my system.

I shake as I use his napkin to wipe myself clean, then put on my panties. My dress is wadded up. It takes a few minutes with trembling hands to turn it out so I can put it back on. One of my shoes has been kicked under the table, so I have to crawl under to retrieve it, and even as I do so, I hear shouting begin down the hall.

Tears shoot to my eyes, and I whimper. It's so loud. I can hear every word they're saying, screaming about someone named Eamon, calling him a traitor. I can't control the fear that courses through me, overpowering the relaxation I felt only moments ago. This terror is unreal. Ronan actually thinks I want to live through this as part of my daily life?

He was so sweet and kind, and now he's a monster. I can't do this.

I force my feet into my shoes, then make myself stand on wobbly knees. I tiptoe to the doorway and peek out. The voices are louder here, and I'm crying harder but they can't hear me over the screaming. There are no guards in the hallway like normal. My heart lurches in my chest. I could walk right out that door and be free.

The relief that thought brings me is suddenly mingled with the idea that if I do that, either Ronan's men will kill me, or he will. And strangely, I feel a tinge of sadness at the idea of not having him in bed beside me every night. But when I think of my mother alone in her home mourning me, I run.

I run for my life.

And no one sees me.

13

RONAN

Idrive my fist into Shane's gut again, and I'm spent. My chest hurts. My heart is pounding. I feel winded, and that isn't normal for me. My body is a well-tuned machine under normal circumstances, but I've been limited to what I can do lately since being shot. This pain isn't normal. My body is telling me something isn’t right.

"Put the note in his pocket. Get him the fuck out of here. Sending Eamon a message is more important than vengeance at this point." I wipe the sweat from my forehead and sit down on the brown leather sofa in my front room. That bastard's blood is staining my carpet, and I want him out of my house now. Trying to seduce my own brother into joining them will not be tolerated.

"But, Ro… You said?—"

"I know what I said!" I shout, and Finn freezes. A few of our initiates are here. They're the ones who caught Eamon's right-hand man fucking with my family. I can't show weakness, not now, but I won't kill Shane. Not yet. "If we throw a dead body out the door of a car, it'll end up at the morgue. We want Eamon to get our message." My glare focuses on Finn, and he nods.

"Understood." He sucks in a breath, and his chest expands as he turns to nod at the others. They drag Shane away. He may as well be in a body bag for as bad off as he is. If he loses much more blood, he'll be gone before the garda finds him.

"You don't look so good, Ro." Finn hovers long after the others are gone. My brothers aren't soft men, and neither am I. But when one of us is suffering, the others call it out. We're only as strong as our weakest link, and I feel like I'm letting them down.

I shake my hand to work some of the pain in my knuckles out. I may have broken my hand, though that's not what's really troubling me. The pressure in my chest is getting worse and at times, it's painful to breathe.

"Pour me a drink," I tell him, and he glowers at me but he does what I tell him to. It's hard to think that just a few minutes ago, I was in a state of bliss with Maeve. We were really connecting for a second there, and I hope the interruption hasn't scared her too badly. I know how sensitive she is to my business and how much she dislikes it. I don't ever bring it home, but with Eamon pulling this shit, it's hard not to.

"Here," Finn says, thrusting the glass of whiskey into my face. I take it and down it, hoping the pain I feel is just a bit of tension. But the whiskey only seems to make it worse. I press the heel of my palm into my chest and close my eyes. "What is it?"

"Get the doctor," I mumble, hating that I have to admit my weakness to him, but knowing when to ask for help is strength in and of itself.

"Right away," he says, and he rushes out. I lean back on the couch and rest my head on the back rest. I'm sure I've just overexerted myself. I did have three bullet wounds, the scars ofwhich are still healing. Maeve hasn't even removed the thread she stitched me with yet. I touch the spot on my chest that hurts the worst and think of how foolish I am to let my anger get the better of me. I have to be strong, but not at the expense of my life.

"Ro, she's not here."

I sit up straight at Fin's words, darkness already clouding my vision. "What do you mean? She was in the kitchen."

"We checked the whole house. None of us can find her. She's gone… The front door was open." Finn is slightly out of breath. I can tell he's been running.

"Fuck's sake," I grunt as I start to stand up, but dizziness hits me and I have to sit back down. "Find her," I growl, and in a flash, he's gone.

I hear shouts and the flurry of activity, and then the door slams shut and I know they've gone out to look for her. A clap of thunder announces the rainy morning, and all I can do is recline on the couch and hold my chest, feeling every pounding heartbeat. I cough and close my eyes.

This isn't just anger. I know what rage feels like. I know how to be angry and control it. I know how it feels when someone defies me and I'm left with no choice but to offer consequences.

This is different. It's loss and grief, the feeling I felt when my father was murdered in cold blood. The anger is there, covering it up, but it's not anger. It's rejection. It's grieving. It's loss. I've gotten so used to her, so comfortable with her presence in this house, though that's not it either. It's more than just having her here. It’s something deeper. I'm falling in love with Maeve Walsh, and she's just run out of my house, and I'm not sure howto handle that, how to feel about the fact that I'm falling for her and she's still running from me.

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