Page 15 of The Irish Redemption

“It feels like a lot,” I say as she turns those wide, doe-like eyes on me. “But you do this and one more thing for me, and then you are free to go.”

“You won’t kill me?” she asks, tilting her head slightly in a way that reminds me of a curious puppy.

“No,” I reply honestly. “As long as you don’t fuck this up.”

6

EVELYN

As I climb the steps toward the police station, I contemplate running.

Would Cormac catch me? Or that other angry man who shoved the bugs into my hand? Would they catch me and kill me or would they let me vanish among the crowds?

I know the answer as I reach the door and feel the weight of their eyes on me from wherever they parked the car. I might be away from them, but I’m certainly not free.

As I head inside, my mind whirs.

I should tell the detective what’s happening, get her to help me and save me from them so I can go back home and return to my boring, regular life. That’s what the cops are for, right? To help people in any kind of situation.

I decide I’ll ask her for help as I’m speaking to the desk sergeant about Detective Gogs. He takes me to her office and sits me down, telling me that she’s busy in interrogation right now but will be with meshortly. When he leaves, he closes the door, and a soft silence falls around me like a warm blanket.

The past two days have been insane and for the first time since I walked into that bathroom, I feel like I can breathe properly. I’m alone. The soft hum of conversation and ringing phones from outside Sarah’s office drift through the air, warming me with a distant presence that’s far enough away to keep me at peace. I focus on my breathing and pick at a loose thread on my jeans, feeling the tightness in my chest relax and expand.

I’m exhausted. And confused. For whatever reason, the strange spark that passed between me and Cormac in his lounge lingers in my mind like some kind of alert.

He’s a dangerous man who kidnapped me and tied me to a chair, then threatened me with a gun in my face. So why can’t I stop thinking about him? About the way his hand wrapped around my throat and lifted me like I weighed nothing, about the way his eyes melted from angry to apologetic in just a flash, and how warm his arm was under my fingertips.

It has to be some kind of adrenaline-based reaction, right? There’s no way I should be lingering on a man who threatened me and is forcing me to plant bugs inside a police station.

Footsteps draw closer outside and I open my eyes, but whoever it was merely passes by and I’m left alone with my turbulent thoughts.

And the bugs.

Despite their size, the ridges go through my pocket and burn into my thigh, threatening to set me ablaze if I don’t do something about them soon. My heart begins to race when I slip my hand into my pocket and remove the largest bug. That man, Cian I think his name was, demanded I place this as near Sarah’s computer as possible. Scanning her desk, there’s not much for me to work with. It’s incredibly neat,with folders and papers lined up with the edge of the desk, a mug centered on a coaster, and dust covers over her keyboard and monitor.

My only option is the small succulent tucked just behind her monitor, to the left of her desk phone. Sarah’s desk is so tidy that she’ll surely notice if I touch anything, but I have no choice and my window for success is rapidly closing.

Rising from my chair, I lean over her desk and place the small square bug into the succulent’s soil. My fingers tremble, so I grit my teeth, frowning as I use all my focus to press the little piece of plastic as deep into the soil as I can without disturbing it. Luckily, the bug blends in well, and I’m able to cover the small hole with a few brushes of dirt.

My ass is barely back in the hard plastic chair when the door swings open and Sarah strides in with a cup of coffee in hand, sending my heart racing wildly and my gut to punch down to my core.

Holy shit.

A second longer and I would have been discovered.

“Evelyn!” Sarah’s brow shoots to her hairline. “Is everything alright?” She closes the door and moves around her desk, taking a seat while never once taking her eyes off me.

Out of the corner of my eye, the succulent blares like a beacon and I fight not to glance at it, as if a single look will cause the secret to spill out and I’ll end up arrested.

“I, uhm…” My voice trembles as violently as my hands. Clutching them together until my knuckles ache, I clear my throat and try again. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The body, I mean. And I just… I don’t know, I have no one to talk to, and I thought I would go crazy if I just stayed in my apartment, so I came here.”

As lame excuses go, it’s pretty shitty, but luckily, I look as shitty as Ifeel and Sarah buys it. Her eyes soften and she nods, shrugging off her blazer and placing her mobile on the desk next to her keyboard.

“I understand. You’ve experienced something incredibly traumatic and it will take you a long time to heal. I can put you in touch with a therapist who can help you talk through a few things.”

“I can’t afford a therapist.” I laugh dryly, amused by the fact that I’mstillexperiencing something traumatic. “I actually…”

I pause, and Sarah stares at me intently as she pours her coffee from the paper cup in her hand to the porcelain one on her desk.

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