Page 34 of The Chief's Captive

The family has been on a trajectory toward success and true authority in this city. That's not to say our transactions are morally upright, but the senseless violence that places the city under a blanket of terror isn't necessary. For me to preserve the integrity of the O'Rourke name, Eamon has to go. And now my brothers know it.

"He's like a fucking chameleon," Finn whispers, and Lochlan grunts. I know what he means. Eamon morphs and changes like a shapeshifter under cover of darkness, and he has slipped through our grasp so many times it's beginning to feel like we'll never catch him.

"We'll find him," I respond in my own hushed tone. We've searched high and low for days. I haven't been home to spend a single second with Maeve. I haven't attended to business transactions or financial obligations. I've been trusting mypeople to them. Thwarting my enemy is my number-one priority now. He has interrupted business dealings, cut off trade routes, and taken too many lives in the process.

"His house was ransacked twice. No clue where he went." Declan, to my left, is uneasy. He shifts and jams his hands into his pockets. I hate his black denim, but he came in from the hunt and will return to it as soon as the benediction is said. And right now, I'm just happy I don't have to put a bullet to his head to show the rest of my family that I'm not letting anyone take what is rightfully mine. Cousin or brother or not.

"He's in the city. He's lurking." My eyes sweep over the pews full of mourners, and a woman's red hair reminds me of why I’m doing this now. It's not just my brothers. It's my future. It's my children and my own life I need to protect. I'm not sure where Maeve stands on my request to join me as my partner. I haven't formally proposed to her, but she understands that I want her in my life for good.

The other option—putting her in a body bag—will destroy me. I could let my brothers handle it, but I'd never forgive them. So if she continues to resist me, I'll be left with no choice but to do it myself. I fear, however, that if it comes to that, I'll be no better than Eamon. The pain will eat me alive, and I'll be left a hollow shell of anger and bitterness.

I'm hunting Eamon to make sure she can have the best atmosphere—the best version of me—to choose. The insect has annoyed me for long enough. It's time to squash him under my boot.

"We can smoke him out… Take something he loves." Finn's suggestion isn't bad, but there isn't a single thing Eamon cares about more than himself and the throne he seeks. He'll slaughteranyone who doesn't side with him, and those who fear for their lives cower when he approaches now. His army is growing in size, both those he's stolen from the clan and those from outside the circle who are forced to do what he wants.

"What does he love more than his own life?" I shake my head. "He's got no one. He's willing to let even his right-hand man die a shameful death if it means he may get a shot at me. He's jealous and angry, and hell hath no fury like a man who has nothing to lose." My eyes narrow on the coffin again, and I sigh.

"Then we bait him. He wants you dead… Let's tempt him to come out into the open long enough to get what he wants." Lochlan's plan could work, but am I willing to be the sitting duck?

I don't even get a chance to think about it. The priest ends his prayers, and the mourners start lining up to pay their respects.

Aiden's parents stand near the back of the sanctuary, and I join them. The boys form a line with us, surrounding them in their time of heavy grief. We shake hands with each person who approaches and offer our condolences and respect. One by one, people I've known my whole life stop by and shake my hand. I see faces that are familiar and some I don't know. People I've shaken hands with now a number of times in situations just like this over the past few weeks.

It's heavy watching so many people suffer the weight of what my cousin is doing to us. We're all family. But these people today aren't taking sides. They don’t understand why one of our own would turn on us. Some of them have been to more funerals than I can count this month because Eamon’s war he started has taken out men who used to be loyal to me. It's doubly as hurtfulwhen I think of how some of my cousins have died at my own hand. I hate it.

When a young boy of around eleven years old approaches me with a look of terror on his face, I know something is happening. He glances around nervously and he clings to a scrap of paper in his hand. His coat is filthy, smells like he hasn’t washed in days, and his hands shake.

"Mr. O'Rourke?" he says timidly, and I nod at him. He reminds me of myself when I was young, when my father taught me the value of family loyalty and what disloyalty would do to me. I never had to learn that lesson twice. But this boy isn't family. I don't know where he came from or why he's here.

"What is it?" Finn grumbles, seeming annoyed.

The boy's trembling hand reaches out with the scrap of paper and he offers it to me. "Someone gave me this and told me to give it to you." The paper dances in front of me with the way he's shaking, and I glance at my brothers. They all have looks of rage on their faces. We know this is a message from Eamon. He's too chicken shit to show his face himself.

"Thank you, son. Do you know who gave it to you?" I take the paper and keep my eye on him, and he grows as white as a sheet.

"I can't say," he mumbles, and he looks around again. "He has my mum." The boy is terrified, and now I know it's Eamon. I have no reason to think that he's here. He's too smart for that.

"Well, you tell him you've done your job and to let your mum go. Alright? Go on," I tell him, and he bolts out the back door of the church.

With the line of mourners dwindling, I lead my brothers away from the back wall and we head into the alleyway, following the young boy's path. He's long gone, but the hatred I hold for my cousin isn't. It's shameful what he's doing and how he's going about it. He's a blight on the O'Rourke name.

"Well, what's it say?" Finn asks, but I can see they're all eager for me to read it off.

I fold the paper open and read it, and my heart stops as I do. "You've stolen something that belongs to me, and now I'm going to make you pay with something that belongs to you… Something you hold so dearly you've kept it hidden from me." My blood runs cold as I raise my eyes up to meet Lochlan's horrified expression. "Maeve,'" I mumble, and before I finish the word, Finn is moving toward the car.

How dare he threaten the one thing on this planet I can't lose. He's after her. But how did he find out? And why did he wait until now?

"Let's roll," I growl, and I run toward Finn's car which he has already started.

Maeve is in danger, and she's at my house. Which means my staff and everyone else is in danger now too. Eamon is so brazen to go right to my house, and in the middle of a wake, nonetheless. I'm going to kill him.

24

MAEVE

Rain patters on the window overlooking the front of the house. I sit on the cushioned chair with my head resting against the cool glass watching the droplets hit puddles and make ripples. I'm waiting for Ronan who said he'd stop by this afternoon. Brigid told me he's at a funeral, which makes me sad for him. I wonder who died and if it has anything to do with why he's been gone so long.

In his absence, I've had a lot of time to think about my future and Ronan and what I want. When this all started, I fought him so hard and all I wanted was to go home. Now, after having been with him for so long, I've actually grown to love him. His charm and the way he cares for me make me feel safe even though I know he has a scary side.

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