Page 50 of Three Irish Kings
“They won’t be in any danger,” I say, and she scoffs.
“And I’m supposed to trust that? Look at him!” She gestures to Liam, wary as he continues to pace around. “He’s like a bull in a china shop.”
“What’s your birthday?” Cillian asks. “Quick, so you don’t have time to make one up.”
“March twenty-eighth.”
“Maggie was born in July,” I murmur, and Liam laughs wildly, running both hands through his hair this time.
“Different birthdays? Are you two kidding me? You’re seriously believing her? If you’d stop thinking with your dick for five minutes?—”
Cillian stands up straight, puffing out his chest. “Are you accusingmeof thinking with my dick, Liam?”
Liam deflates. “No. No, but just a birthday and her telling us a fake Irish name doesn’t make her not our target.”
Cillian brings out his phone, showing Isla the picture once more. “You’re saying this picture isn’t of you?”
She shakes her head. “No. No, in fact, she looks a little younger than me. I’ll be honest, we do look alike, but it’s just the way our eyes are set. Her mouth is fuller, her cheeks chubbier. No starts of crow’s feet around her eyes.”
“So what? It’s an old picture,” Liam barks.
“And she had a surgery.” Cillian points at the woman we kidnapped, whoever she is, and I realize that he’s starting to believe her.
I think I am, too, even though I thought at first it was just wishful thinking.
Isla pushes up her bangs, revealing her high forehead. “Look. I have a chickenpox scar on my forehead. That’s why I always wear bangs.”
Liam squints. “It’s small, I wouldn’t be able to see it in the photo.”
Isla groans. “I don’t know what else you want me to say. I don’t know how else to prove it to you. Let me show you the scar.”
“Don’t bother,” Liam snarls. “Dare’s already seen it, I suppose.”
Isla rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at Liam.
I look back and forth between the two, seeing the chemistry between them, despite their arguing.
I shake my head. “Maybe she's really not Maggie. Maybe we've got it all wrong."
Cillian nods. “Boss, we have to be prepared for the possibility that she's telling the truth."
“What does it matter if she is? She knows where my childhood home is. She knows our names. Our faces. We can’t let her go."
I stare at my friend, concerned. “Liam?—”
“In fact, I should kill her right now." He stalks toward Isla, and my heart leaps into my throat.
Liam doesn't hesitate when he kills. He’s not like Cillian, who plans it out, or me, who will refuse to kill. I might have left a few people bad enough that they eventually passed, but all the people who met the sharper end of my knife were alive when I left them.
Liam, though? When he decides, he takes action.
I take a step forward, but he is too quick, reaching her before I can step in.
Isla flinches, and Liam does the unthinkable.
He hesitates.
I freeze, staring at him.
