Page 88 of Stolen Rival
At the back door, I pull on my shoes, grab the bank cards that Patrick has left for me, and make my way out into the garage, shivering at the drop in temperature. There’s no sign of my driver, or either of my bodyguards, but the door to the garage is open. Maybe they’re out in the garden having a smoke.
“Dan?”
Patrick created a group chat for us to engage with the drivers and security team. It’s only been a few days, but it helps me know who’s being assigned to me, and in some way makes me feel less of a prisoner, more of a participant. In the chat last night, Dan had said he was going to be driving me and Jeff is supposed to be my minder.
“Jeff?” Another shiver rolls through me as I pick up the keys from a shelf next to the car and press the fob. The doors click open. My hand is on the door handle when a thought occurs to me. Why were the keys on that shelf? Dan would have them with him.
Titan’s barking picks up inside the house, and the fact I can’t see another human being is enough to trigger my spidey sense. Something is wrong.
Unease grates against my skin as I reach into my crossbody bag to grab my phone. Before I do, there’s a sharp prick against my neck. By the time I get my hand up to swat away whateverinsect has stung me, my legs are already crumpling underneath me. Sound warps, light fractures—then nothing.
Chapter 43
PATRICK
“That went betterthan I expected it to,” Liam says. “Although I thought at one point you were going to put his head through the wall.”
I glance out of the window as my driver pulls off the motorway. The closer we get to home, the more eager I am to see Sorcha. She should be back from her lunch with Rosanna by now.
This is a new feeling for me. Usually after a meeting, especially one with a foe rather than a friend, I’m itching to punch something, to release all that excess energy I have crawling under my skin.
Now, the best way I can think of to release that energy is to fuck my wife. I’m not at all unhappy about it.
“I almost did but then I’d have given the game away, and he’d realize that Sorcha is more than a warm body to get my dick wet. He was testing me on the phone last night when he asked whether I was bringing her. Him talking shit about her was just another test.”
Liam punches me on the arm. “Proud of you, bro. That can’t have been easy.”
I’m not the kind of man to share my feelings. I tend to keep them all bottled up inside, so out of the two of us, I’m the more surprised one when I say, “I like her. I more than like her.”
Liam cants his head. “For real?”
“Yeah. I can’t pinpoint when marriage out of necessity turned into more but, as I listened to that English fuckwit prattle on about how women are only good for two things—fucking and breeding—declining to act on the urge to splatter his brains all over the wall is one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, and that’s when I knew she’s become more to me.”
“Do you love her?”
“No.” I’m not even sure I’m capable of giving a woman the kind of control over me that being in love would entail. “But I care for her. Deeply. Every day, she grows into someone I think could, over time, be a true partner to me. She’s so much smarter than her idiotic father gave her credit for. She could have been a real asset to his business, but he always was a fucking misogynist.”
“If that’s how you feel, then I’m even more proud of you for putting our business interests ahead of your personal feelings.”
“Oh, he’ll get what’s coming to him, but it’ll be when he least expects it, and I can cover my tracks. The fucker is dead for sure.”
Liam chokes out a laugh. “That’s the man I know.”
As the car turns into our road, I can’t stop smiling. Perhaps I shouldn’t have told Liam I’ve caught feelings for Sorcha, but it’s done now.
“Sir, the gate isn’topening.”
Frowning, I peer between the front seats. The gatehouse guard should have opened them by now. “Use the remote.”
“Yes, sir.” A few seconds later, the wrought-iron gates open inward, and he drives through. The guard isn’t in the gatehouse.
My staff never leave their posts.
Never.
Prickles crawl across the back of my neck. I don’t fucking like this.
Sorcha. Maybe she isn’t back from lunch with Rosanna. If anything’s wrong, I hope to fuck she stayed out later than planned.
