Page 106 of Revenge

As he slammed the boot, I turned to glance at the group of men, they were still in conversation. Kai joined them whilst shrugging into the tailored jacket, I noted how it concealed his weapon.

From the body language, Kai was poised for a fight. Regret pumped through me. Fuck Cillian, what if Kai got hurt?

After what felt like forever, Kai nodded towards the car and Lester returned, opened the driver's door, and slid inside.

And then, from the open doorway of the house, where the two dead men were, Cillian Connors appeared. My blood ran cold. He looked every bit the contracted hitman he was. That cold, ruthless killer. His eyes were on Kai and it felt like the car was spinning. If Cillian hurt Kai, it would be the end of me.

What have you done?

“What’s happening?” I coughed out, my hand itching to grab my weapon.

Kai was slowly walking over to Cillian. The two men started talking and from the looks of it was heated. Kai motioned toward the car a couple of times and Cill glanced over. The men with Hamish and Sean just stood, almost like they were awaiting instruction. No one was making any quick moves thank goodness.

“Lester?”

Clearing his throat, Lester started putting more bullets in his gun from the glove box before twisting toward me. His eyes remained in the direction of his boss but he answered my question.

“They’re negotiating,” he explained.

“For what?”

“The way forward,” Lester said.

Lester’s phone vibrated and he said something under his breath about Henry.

That name again. Who the fuck was Henry?

After what felt like forever, Kai approached the car, leaving Cill standing by the door to the farmhouse. My throat felt scratchy and the tough Ava from earlier started to fade.

Kai’s face was determined as he pulled open the door and extended his hand to me, “Come, Ava.”

Feeling sick to my stomach I placed my hand in his, Kai’s palm was so cold.

As I jumped to the ground, mud covered my sneakers and I realised how much I stood out. The big beefy men in suits, the helicopter, the criminal hideaway, what the fuck was I doing there?

As Kai led me towards the house, he gave each man watching us a nod. They in turn nodded back. It was almost like a sign of respect. I could feel Cillian’s eyes drilling into me as Kai led me through the doors. I didn’t maintain eye contact, not wanting to set him off again. For whatever reason, he appeared to have stood down. Either that or he had already shot Gerard and I was being taken to see the body.

“Kai,” I whispered. He held my hand but it didn’t feel affectionate, or caring at all. It was like the touch of a stranger.

“Please, just be quiet and don’t make any sudden moves. Everything will be alright. Just trust me, Ava,” he said. Thankfully his words warmed me and removed some of the worry I felt.

We headed down a long corridor with several doors on each side. It was cold and I could smell a mixture of firewood and coffee grounds. The wallpaper was peeling off the walls and there were damp stains on the ceiling.

Kai kept a tight grip on my hand.

And then we turned the corner and walked out into a warm room, decorated like a living room with a huge log-burning fire. It looked like it had been recently abandoned and I could smell the faint smell of a cigar.

Following Kai, he led us through that room and down another corridor with a metal door at the end.

There was a keycode and as Kai raised his hand towards the buttons, he stopped momentarily and lowered his hand. Turning to look down at me.

“Are you scared?” he asked.

I attempted to smile, “Terrified.”

“Good. You should be.” His tone of voice was still soft thank goodness. I imagine Kai blamed me for putting him in that position, so I wouldn’t have been shocked if he yelled at me. The fact that he didn’t was a colossal relief. “You're about to see Gerard. Just like you wanted. Are you sure you're ready?”

I took a huge gulp of air into my lungs. So, Kai had arranged for Cillian to stand down and I had my request. To be put face to face with the man who had wronged both me and my mother.

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