Page 39 of The Chief's Captive

"You tried to get my brothers to turn on me." I grip him by his lapel and shake him hard, but he doesn't let go of my wrists. He's insane. He's literally asking me to kill him by refusing to repent.

"Your brothers know what's right, Ronan. I'm just the head. The snake still lives."

The glass pushes against his vocal cord so hard he chokes a little and gags, but I don't allow the edge to cut any deeper yet.

"What do you mean?" I'm so angry I don't know if I'm going to remember any of this, and I hear noise in the other room that alerts me to the fact that I probably don't have much time. My friends on the force will be here. If my brothers have finished with Eamon's men out back, we'll need a cleaner. There is a huge mess to deal with, and I have to make sure Maeve is alright.

Not to mention the baby…I'm going to be a father?It's all so much to process, and channeling my anger toward Eamon is what's keeping me sane right now.

"I mean," he says, forcing every word to creep through his constricted airway, "there are others… They're coming. You can't stop us. I may not be here after today, but you haven't killed the snake. You're just cutting off the head. A new head will grow back and?—"

I can't listen to him anymore at all. My rage makes me snap. I swipe my hand across his throat hard, slicing through his skin and muscle. It cuts deep into his neck, severing his jugular, and blood begins to spurt out. His eyes go wide as he realizes he can't speak anymore, the cut so deep it penetrates his vocal cords, and he begins to gag and cough, sputtering blood through his mouth.

I drop him and stand, staring down at his life slowly fading from his body. For a moment, all I can do is stand there gripping the shard of glass and feeling it cut my own flesh. I feel a sense of relief that my enemy for the time being is dead, but I also feeldread at hearing his words. There are more of them coming, and that means the fight isn't over.

But while the greater war may still rage, I've won this battle. I suck in a deep breath and drop the shard of glass, then I turn and walk away as he clings to his life, gripping his neck in a desperate attempt to stop himself from bleeding out. But all he can do is writhe and gag.

When I walk back into the bedroom and see Maeve on the floor with her eyes closed, my heart pinches with fear again. The man who had his hand around her throat is still alive, but barely. I ignore him as I drop to my knees next to her and press two fingers into her neck. She still has a heartbeat, and it floods my entire being with relief.

I need to get her out of here, get her someplace safe. So I scoop her up and cradle her to my chest as I walk toward the front door. When I emerge from the house, police officers are already storming the property. A few of them notice me, but I know them. They make eye contact and walk right past me as if they know what to do. They know not to stop me.

Maeve is limp, probably passed out from shock. I lay her in my back seat and climb into the car ready to flee. The only thought in my head is of putting space between us and the horrible scene my home has become.

Blood makes my hands stick to the steering wheel, and I pull out onto the highway, not sure where I'm even going. My mind is racing, replaying everything that just happened over and over. There were so many things I should've said to Eamon, but none of it matters now. Nothing I could ever have said to him would have undone the things he set in motion. He ignited a war against my family I don’t know how to stop.

When I finally come out of my own shock following the events at my home, I find myself on the northern outskirts of town. I pass a few motels and pull into a nicer hotel. Maeve is still resting, probably overwhelmed by the heavy emotions she experienced while they held her captive. She has a bruise on her right cheek, and it makes me angry that someone struck her, but she's alive. That's what's important.

I walk into the hotel and use the restroom just off the lobby to wash my hands and remove the blood. There's nothing I can do about the blood on my shirt, splattered there when I slit Eamon's throat, so I button my suit coat to hide most of it and then make my way to the registration counter. I secure a room and get the key, then head back to the car to get Maeve, who is finally stirring.

I'm not letting her out of my sight again, not now that I know she's pregnant. If Eamon was bold enough to come right into my home and hold her at gunpoint, who knows what those who are on his side will do. He had personal reasons to want me dead, and they clouded his judgment when it came time to actually pull the trigger. He couldn’t resist pouring salt into the wound.

My gut tells me his allies also want me dead, probably for more ruthless reasons than to lead my family. And men like that won't hesitate to pull the trigger or give their bad guy monologue to me before doing the deed. Anyone who learns I have an heir coming will leap at the chance to destroy me, and that's a risk I'm not willing to take.

28

MAEVE

Iawaken to warm hands and a warm cloth across my face. Blinking my eyes open, I see Ronan seated beside me on a bed, but we're not at his house. Shock hits me for a second, but when I blink again, I realize it's a hotel, and I'm safe.

"Shh," he coaxes, dabbing at my face one more time before setting the cloth aside. "I'm glad you're awake." His hand brushes hair off my face, and I look up at the bruises covering his. He has a busted lip and a black eye. His hair is sticking up at odd angles, and I see cuts all over his hands that are scabbed now.

"Ronan," I croak, then I clear my throat.

"You don't have to talk right now if you don’t have energy. I know you've been through a lot." His thumb traces my lower lip, and I reach up and hold his hand against my face. It's scarred and callused, but it feels like safety. Anything feels like safety after what happened.

"It's okay," I whisper, and I feel tears welling up. It wasn't how I wanted for him to find out I'm having a baby. None of this waswhat I wanted. "Is it over?" I ask, not really sure what "it" is, except that I don't want him gone for days or weeks at a time. I want him around me where I feel safe now.

"Yes, for now, it's over." He looks down at his lap where his free hand is clenched into a fist. "Eamon is dead." I see the pain crease his forehead, and I hate it. I hate that this world is capable of dishing out such evil that it causes people pain. I've always hated it. I want something different from this.

"What happened?" My eyes search his face, not really wanting to know what I think I already know. Ronan is a killer. He's the one who put an end to that nightmare, and I can tell based on the look on his face that he doesn't want to be the one to tell me. I reach up and touch his shoulder, and he looks at me, and I smile.

"It's okay. It's over. That's all that matters… And you're with me." I pause and feel my throat constricting. "And our baby."

"So it's true?" His voice sounds hopeful, and I smile again, feeling the joy well up in my chest. It's a welcome feeling after so much fear.

"I'm having a baby, Ro. Our baby." The look in his eyes tells me he's happy too, and after everything that's happened between us, I finally feel very settled here. I have a future with him if I choose it.

"My God," he breathes, and he leans down and kisses me hard. "We're having a baby."

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