Page 63 of It Will Always Be You
“Enough. We can play the blame game all night long, but that’s not going to solve jack shit.” The room stills. “Matt, you’re with Bren. Seamus, Owen, and Jack, look after the girls. Ciaran, Dec, Liam, and Aidan—you’re with me,” I snap, putting a stop to the bickering before we waste even more time. While Matt looks ready to argue, jaw clenched and eyes blazing, he holds it in. He dips his head, his red curls falling forward to hide the grief etched across his face.
I’ve stood in this room a hundred times. Blood-slick floors. Metal tables. The heavy silence before a scream. But tonight feels different. The air at the Pit crackles with tension, thick with anticipation and something darker—dread.
The Finlay brothers sit across from me, Declan pacing by the wall, and not one of us speaks. We don’t need to.
We all feel it.
For an organization that values family above all else, interrogating a woman—one of our own—cuts deeper than we’d ever admit. It makes monsters of us. And still, we can’t walk away.
“Cole would hate this,” Aidan mutters, his voice low and raw, eyes locked on a spot of dried blood on the floor.
I cross the room and sit beside him, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder.
“He’d hate what she’s done more,” I say quietly. “Think of what’s at stake—how many lives we might still save.”
“Boss is right,” Liam adds from across the room, flipping his knife idly through his fingers. “If we get names, we get to go hunting.”
The promise in his voice is quiet but unmistakable.
Aidan exhales slowly and rises, rolling his neck as he shifts into something colder. Sharper.
“Then let’s get it done.”
“Showtime,” Declan murmurs, sliding his phone into his pocket just as the steel door creaks open.
Ciaran enters like a phantom—silent and seething. Jen hangs limp over his shoulder, unconscious and pale.
No one says a word.
We move as one, securing her to the metal exam table like we’ve done a hundred times before—but this time, it feels like betrayal.
When the bucket of ice-cold water hits her, she jerks awake with a gasping sputter, her eyes wide and wild.
Ciaran stands before her, unmoving, shoulders squared and jaw clenched. The room is heavy with his rage, thick and electric.
“You know,” I say calmly, clicking my tongue as I step forward, “this doesn’t have to hurt. All we want are a few answers. And you do love to talk, don’t you, Jen?”
She groans behind the gag, fury and defiance burning in her eyes.
“We’re going to take that gag off now,” Declan says smoothly, arms crossed. “You can cooperate, and this ends fast. Or you can be difficult… and learn why they call your husband and brother-in-law the Butcher Brothers.”
Ciaran steps forward and loosens the gag.
She spits in his face.
The room freezes.
“You fuckingcunt,” he snarls, trembling with rage. “I should have listened to my boy. All this time, you were leading me around by my dick.”
Her mouth curls into a smile—mocking and cruel. “It was all too easy.”
Ciaran’s hand flies to her throat, fingers digging in.
She doesn’t flinch.
“That’s enough,” I say quietly, nodding to Liam and Aidan. They pin her arms and legs as Declan steps in, pulling out his knife.
There’s no mercy in the room now.
