Page 72 of Twisted Secrets
It was harder than it should have been to focus on his face. “I’m listening.”
“I need to check on the other men.”
He thinks he’s going to find more bodies. “But—”
“I’m not leaving you here alone.” He squeezed her hands, his touch gentle despite the command in his voice. Though part of her wanted to argue that she wasn’t helpless, the rest was trying to come to terms with the fact that her daughter wasgone. Someone had come in here, killed at least one person, and taken Hadley.
Fear and panic crystallized inside her, morphing into rage between one breath and the next.They took my baby girl. I’m going tokillthem.“It was Dmitri.”
Cillian’s expression didn’t change. “Get what you need. We won’t be returning.”
“Okay.”
She followed him upstairs, eerie calm settling around her. Dmitri might have threatened to do just this, but a naive part of her had assumed that he wouldn’t follow through on it. Not like this. Not without warning. Not in the middle of the night and killing at least one person along the way. She changed into a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and her boots, conscious of Cillian standing between her and the doorway, his dark eyes narrowed as if he expected an attack at any moment. She could have told him it was no use, that Hadley was gone, but she’d obviously been wrong about the lengths Sergei and Dmitri would go tobefore, so she might be wrong about this, too. Olivia repacked her bag, her hands lingering over Hadley’s clothes.I’m getting you back, baby girl. Just hang in there. Mama’s coming.
“You got everything?”
She looked around the room, part of her hoping that this was all a mistake and that her daughter would appear with an infectious giggle. But it wasn’t a mistake, and she didn’t appear. Olivia stood on shaking legs and forced herself to nod. “Yes.”
She must have been more out of it than she realized, because Cillian had managed to dress in one of his suits and pack his own bag while she was working on hers. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her so tightly, it was as if he was afraid she’d break apart into a million pieces. “We will get her back.”
“Cillian—”
“We will get her back, Olivia.” He pressed a kiss to her temple and stepped back. “Stay close.”
He didn’t take her hand, and she belatedly realized it was so he could be free to draw the gun she could see in the shoulder holster. The similarities between Cillian and Dmitri were never more pronounced than in that moment with that deadly glint in his eyes. This was not the man who made love to her last night and told her he had no intention of letting her go. This was Cillian O’Malley, a man who’d seen unfathomable loss in his life, a man deadly in his own right.
There must have been something on her face, because he stopped on the stairs. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” There was no hesitation. He might look like a near-stranger right now, but this was still the man who she’d spent the last few weeks getting to know.He might be an O’Malley, but that wasn’tallhe was. She just had to remember that.
Cillian nodded. “Then let’s go.”
She followed him out the back door. He hesitated, almost like he wanted to tell her to stay in the house, but then gave himself a shake and started for the tree line. She kept close, all too aware of how exposed they were out here. Yes, he kept his body between her and potential danger, but that wasn’t a guarantee of shit.
They found the second body propped up against a large tree just inside the forest. She made herself look at the wounds, made herself memorize the face of the man who’d died while on protection detail forher. She was so focused on his face, it took her several seconds to understand the wound pattern. “Knife?”Sergei. That bastard always had liked his blades—at least when it wasn’t efficient to use his hands.
“It looks that way.” He stood and took a step back. “I’m going to have to move the bodies, but we need to check on the others first.” He waited for her to nod before he started moving again.
They found the next man alive. Cillian went to his knees next to him. “Mark.”
“Fucked up.” The man held both his hands to his stomach. “The blond Russian bastard caught me off guard.”
There was no way she could pretend Sergei wasn’t involved. Her stomach lurched, and for one second she thought she might lose it completely. “I’m sorry.”
“My mistake. My fault.”
But he wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her.
Cillian looked at her. “Can you get him to the barn? I need to checkon the last two men.”
She nodded, and they ignored Mark’s protests that he would be fine while she levered him off the ground and wedged herself beneath his arm. He didn’t seem to be actively bleeding, which was a relief. She already had the deaths of at least two men on her head. The trip to the barn seemed to take forever, each step accompanied by Mark’s wheezing breath. She started to say something half a dozen times, but what could she say that wouldn’t be spitting in his face? “I’m sorry.”
She pushed the door open to the barn and helped him hobble over to a bench shoved up against the wall next to the empty stables. Mark let out a pained sigh. “Like I said—not your fault.”
“Do you want me to check that?”
He shook his head. “If it hit something vital, I’d be dead by now.”
