Page 11 of Ronan

He scoffs, rolling his eyes as though I’m being ridiculous… like I wasn’t almost shot less than twelve hours ago. “Of course not. We aren’t the type… to…” His voice slows to a crawl before he trails off, a sheepish expression dawning as he bites his lip. Eyes wide, I cross my arms and tap my finger as I give him time to process, because he’s obviously a little fucking slow.

“Oh, please,dogo on,” I deadpan, and he deflates, shoulders sagging.

“We aren’tnormallythe type to do something so hotheaded.”

“If I meet her, can I leave?”

“Come on, Cameron, you know I can’t promise that… but she’s fair.”

Fairly likely to shoot me and throw me to the vultures,I think, but I keep that little accusation to myself. “Alright, fine.” I stand, and Boomerang, equally eager to escape our confinement, dances between her paws, claws clicking on the hardwoods as her tail thumps a happy rhythm. “Let’s go, then.”

August sizes me up, gaze snagging on my narrow waist, and my discomfort flares under his appraisal. “When’s the last time you had steady meals?”

“Oh, fuck you,” I snap, suddenly self-conscious as I hug my torso tighter. “I’m thin, not starved.”

His hands fly up, palms facing me. “It wasn’t intended to be an insult. We have a fair system here, andplenty of supplies. You wouldn’t have to fight for your food anymore, and you could put your time to better use. I’m just saying I think you’d fit in really well.”

“And you know what I think?” I ask, popping a brow.

His lips twitch, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he tries not to smile. “I bet you’re going to tell me.”

Eyes somber and face serious, I nod thoughtfully as my gaze sweeps his frame, assessing him with the same scrutiny he’d offered me. “I think you’re an overly optimistic airhead that only sees the best in people and doesn’t realize that you live in a community of kidnappers and freaks.”

He nods slowly, chewing on his lip. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve heard that,” he mutters, and I’m so surprised that a laugh sneaks loose. A smile crosses his face, radiant and white-toothed and filled to the brim with his boy-next-door charm, and I return it with a grin of my own before I can stop myself. “Come on.” He walks towards the door, gesturing for me to follow, and leaves it open behind him. After a moment’s hesitation, I trail him into a bright, cheerful hallway.

Inside the building, everything is quiet and empty, but the moment he opens the door that changes. The harsh glare of the sun makes me squint as a wave of noise hits my ears, and suddenly, we’re surrounded by a throng of people. Men, women, and a few children, all clean and well-fed. Several of them stumble to a stop when they notice me, and the majority narrow their eyes, like I’m the one holding them hostage.

I lift an uncomfortable hand in a wave, trailing closely behind August. Blissfully unaware of the tightsqueeze of tension surrounding us, he hums a cheerful tune as he walks.

“What the hell is he doing loose?” The familiar voice rips through the ambient noise like the crack of lightning, and just as violent. I grab onto Boomerang, unsure if it’s for my protection or to keep her from charging. The man who held me at gunpoint last night storms forward, somehow even more imposing in the light of day. A deep, jagged scar, red and puckered, zigzags across his cheek, while his brow bunches and his meaty hands clench into fists, knuckles white. “Are we no longer locking up our prisoners? Have the rules changed and someone forgot to tell me?”

“Told you I was a prisoner,” I mutter as August turns with a frown, just in time to watch the man bully his way closer and loom over me.

“Taryn wants to see him, Bruce. If you have an issue with it, take it up with her.”

“That’s the problem withwomensrunning this place,” he hisses, and I flinch at the spray of spit that leaves his lips. “Too fucking soft to know what’s best… letting the world run all over us instead of taking what we need.”

“What youneedis a bath and a toothbrush,” I mutter, “and what I need is a towel, because, ew.” Once again, my sarcasm gets me in trouble as a wrecking-ball fist snares my shirt and hauls me forward.

“Watch your mouth, you fucking twerp, or I’ll finish what I started last night,” he growls, and I absolutely, one hundred percent, cannot help what my face does when I catch a whiff of his breath. His eye twitches, and I hold my breath, waiting for whatever beating is coming my way.

“That’s enough, Bruce!” My savior’s voice is new, feminine but deep, and Bruce freezes as he glares at me.

“Sounds like thewomenswant you to let me go,” I whisper, unable to help the smug smile that crosses my face as I test my luck. A lifetime of studying people has taught me that men like him won’t challenge someone directly and risk losing... especially in front of a crowd. They’ll wait until the middle of the night when they can pull a knife while you’re sleeping and claim it’s a fair fight.

He releases me, hovering in my face for a long moment before stomping away like an overgrown toddler. A hand lands on my forearm, and I jerk away, spinning to find August with wide eyes. “You okay?” he asks, his expression full of worry and his voice sincere.

“Yeah,” I squeak, then clear my throat. “Yep, yes, I’m good. Fine. Great.”

His lips twitch again. “You know, astonishingly, the more words you add, the less convinced I become.”

A quiet laugh huffs out of me when movement on my other side steals my focus, and I turn to find a woman approaching. She’s tall, an inch or two taller than me, even, with sun-weathered umber skin and unnervingly bright green eyes. “Cameron. My name is Taryn, but you’ve figured that out already.” It isn’t a question, so I just nod and wait. This is her home, after all, and she doesn’t strike me as the type to let someone else speak over her. “This isn’t exactly what I imagined when I asked August to introduce us, but considering what’s just happened, I think we can skip the niceties.”

“You mean when your guy who kidnapped me last night threatened my life a second time? Yeah, we’re past thehey, how ya doin’ part of this interaction.”

She nods, and I appreciate her candid nature as she says, “Alright then. Follow me and let’s talk.”

The murmuring crowd parts as Taryn leads us through, with August and Boomerang flanking me in what feels like a gallows walk. I survey my surroundings while being careful not to meet anyone’s eye, preferring to avoid another confrontation.

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