Page 115 of Three Irish Kings
“N-no, sir, of course not.” Allen lowers his eyes, almost flinching.
Fucking coward.
He might be a good employee, my second in command at the office, but he’s too much of a liability for me to let him make any decisions. I mean, with how fearful he is, this company would go nowhere if I let him in charge for longer than a few hours at a time or depended on him for anything.
He’s lucky I keep this company separated from the clan, or he’d be six feet under by now. There is no way I would trust him with any secrets.
But this is supposed to be my escape. My safe place. My haven. The place I come to escape clan life.
I’m forced to rule with fear outside of work, I don’t want it to happen here.
“And need I let you go and appoint someone else to your position, since apparently, me taking a little time off here and there is a problem for you? Or are you suggesting I need to be here twenty-four-seven? Because in that case, why would I need you?”
He is shaking now, shrunk as much as he can without hiding under the chair. “N-No, sir, that’s… That’s not… I mean…”
The man is a wet blanket at best and a yellowbelly at worst. He does his job well, not needing to be micromanaged, but his personality disgusts me. Unlike with Cillian and Dare, who have their issues, Allen and I will never be friends.
After all these years working together, him being a coward still pisses me off.
I look him dead in the eyes, and he looks away, scurrying out of my office.
My eyes fly back to my phone, to Isla’s text.
I still haven’t texted her back, and I don’t plan to. I can’t remember whose shift it is, but really, it doesn’t matter. We’ve taken to spending a lot of time together with her. And though we mostly keep it one-on-one, we’ve shared her more than once as a group.
I hate thinking of Cill or Dare alone with her. But when we were all together, it was the best sex I’ve ever had. Not that I’ll ever tell any of them.
And after the day I’m having today, and all I still have to get done, I’ll need a release. I’ll needher.
Groaning, I dread the hardest chore of today. I have to talk to my father.
His men have been scouring the city for Maggie. This morning, we’ve even lost a couple of them because of it.
Those men had families, people that loved them, and I have put this conversation off for too long now. I should have told him as soon as Cill told me. But looking at those pictures, at Isla’s lifeless face staring back at me, I couldn’t breathe.
Now, I can’t stand by any longer. Can’t allow anyone else to die for someone who is gone, shot through the head like the traitor she was.
These two dead men will forever weigh on my shoulders. If I had reached out to my da sooner, they would still be alive, so this is all my fault.
Gritting my teeth, I print out Cillian’s pictures of Maggie’s dead body and a copy of her death certificate.
Now I have to hope against hope my father is having one of his increasingly rare moments of clarity.
Allen, like the little spineless bastard he is, appears to be avoiding me.
Weak fuck.
That’s the reason I keep him at arm’s length. Well, I suppose I keepeveryoneat arm’s length, except for the guys. And maybe now… Isla.
The thought makes my stomach churn.
I hate being vulnerable. My father always taught me that the second you open up to someone, they’re able to stab you in the back, and with the exception of Cill and Dare, I’ve always lived by that.
So, why am I so antsy to get home to a woman who’s not only fucking my two best friends as well, but cagey and vague about her past?
What if Isla’s up to something? What, I can’t imagine, but it just seems strange how she hasn’t revealed much about herself in all the weeks we’ve known her.
I mean, sure, we kidnapped her, and I already told her we’re never letting her go, but still, it’s only been surface-level stuff. Nothing about her childhood, nothing about what she did or who she spent her time with.
