Callous King (The O'Dea Crime Family Book 1)
Page 11
“Okay then,” Pursing my lips thinly as Connor turns away, I turn to Cian when he drops himself into the chair in the corner. “We’re okay to talk in here?”
“Even if we’re not, who’s gonna do anything if Connor snitches?” He shoots Connor an almost playful look, and I pull a face as I settle into the chair. The atmosphere charges with expectation as Connor fiddles in a drawer. “Take off your shirt.”
“Oh, okay,” I beat down my discomfort as I roll up my shirt, and eyes settle on me heavily. The air buzzes just above my head, and Cian’s expression darkens out of the corner of my eye as I pull my shirt over my head. Goosebumps sweep up my arms and back, and I suck in a sharp breath and arch uncomfortably. “I was thinking of getting a tattoo when I left home to celebrate. With everything I did, I’m surprised I didn’t wake up with one, to be honest.”
“Got a taste of freedom and ran with it, huh?” Nodding at Connor’s surmise, I laid back at the wave of his hand as he chuckles fondly. “I remember that feeling. What happened to make you quit?”
“I did coke,” I admit sheepishly, and flames lick up my cheeks at Cian’s sharp, surprised bark of laughter. He stifles it with a cough, and I cover my face with my hands. Connor takes the moment to wipe my chest with disinfectant, and a shiver strafes my spine. “Yeah. I woke up after wondering what I was doing and where it was leading. Decided I had enough. I enrolled in college two weeks later.”
“Tattoos are reflections of the soul. I truly believe that. You don’t get a tattoo that you don’t wanna get, even if you regret it later. Why’d you decide against it?” Connor asks, and I close my eyes as memories come rushing back to me. All those years ago . . . the recollections are fuzzy and flimsy, now, as they reel through my mind like a movie playing out.
“I don’t remember the exact reason anymore, but . . . now, I wish I had. Marrin was disgusted by tattoos on women. If I had one, maybe he wouldn’t have locked me up,” I trail off as bitterness ties my tongue, and I inhale deeply before shaking my head. “It’s okay. I’m gonna get mine, even if it takes a while.”
“Tell me about it,” Cian demands, leaning back against the wall to cross his arms over his broad chest. He looks big in such a small room, and I lock eyes with him as Connor smooths the stencil on my skin. “Your plan. The most obvious person to go after right now is Bella, but how are you going to do that without seeming suspect?”
“I’m gonna set your house on fire,” I mumble tentatively, and both men freeze as my declaration echoes in the tiny room. “With her and me in it. And Kaitlyn. You need to find a reason to bring Siobhan out, but really, it’s simple.”
“Is there a reason you’re going so hard?” Speaking through his shock, Cian frowns deeply under tightly knit brows. His hazel eyes flash brilliantly as he rests his head against the wall. Turning my gaze to the ceiling, I stiffen as the buzz of the tattoo gun ripples through the air. Gripping the arms of the chair tightly, I hold my breath as anxiety seeps into my very bones.
“Don’t tense up. Bracing yourself makes it hurt more,” Connor murmurs encouragingly, and I nod as I struggle to exhale a gust. Leaning over me, he nods calmly before stretching my skin. The needle digs into me, and I blink hard at the almost numbing sensation that isn’t pain. “Not so bad, right?”
“It doesn’t hurt. It’s tingly, like when your foot falls asleep,” My reply earns me a grunt, and I glance over at Cian as relief eases the tension between my shoulders. He smiles warmly, so briefly and only for me, and I lick my lips heavily. “If we do it this way, we can get rid of Bella and Kaitlyn without tipping off Siobhan that we’re onto her contacting Byrne behind your back. We can frame it like Bella realized things weren’t going to be the fantasy she’d thought, and she burned your house down with herself inside.”
“No, she’s the kind of person that’d do her makeup and hair, then OD tragically in the perfect position on her bed,” Cian remarks casually, his eyes steely as he stares through the chair, deep in thought. “Unless you’ve got a way to tip her over the edge?”
“I do. She told me she knew I was there to stop her marrying you,” I pause when Cian snorts in disgust, a twinge of satisfaction slithering through my chest. “I don’t think she believed you when you said you were gonna kill her. I’d bet money she thinks that once she marries you, she’ll have the power and lifestyle she had before, and the contract would protect her from you.”
“You’re not suggesting I lead her on because she’d be desperate to believe I had a change of heart, are you?” Cian asks darkly, menacingly, and I shake my head. Staring at the ceiling, I almost smile at the intense waves of relief that roll off him. “Even I’m not that deplorable a man that I could do that, Sorcha. So, what do you want me to do with her?”
“When Siobhan tried to trip us up when I burned my hands, she said something that didn’t make sense. That Bella would see me like I was mentally ill or something. But that was never gonna work, she just said it when we weren’t really paying attention to specifics,” I elaborate, and Cian grunts lowly in agreement. Now, I feel so stupid; hindsight is twenty-twenty, after all. “Bella ignored me, because she thinks I’m here to kill her, but then, she saw us.”
“What, you think she tried to sneak into my room and saw us together, and that’s why she threatened you the other morning?” Probing as disgust lifted his lip, Cian’s expression screwed up in irritation at the thought. My chest tightens beneath the vibrations bouncing off my sternum, and I nod. “I can’t break the contract, that’s why I’m gonna go through with it and get rid of her after everything’s over.”
“It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is what Bella thinks, and she thinks you will. We don’t even have to get her to actually snap. Just a couple of rumors that get back to the other houses that she’s contacted her dad to try to break the contract,” I cast a sidelong glance at Cian as he arches a brow quizzically, sitting up hastily. “That she said she’d rather be dead than be married to you, but dear ol’ dad can’t do anything about it because he pulled every last string to get her set up in the first place. So, she decides that if she can’t get out of it alive, she’ll take everyone in the house with her . . . but you and Siobhan get called to go to your father’s late at night, so Bella only kills herself and Kaitlyn.”
The only sound in the room is the buzzing of the tattoo gun as Cian slowly, visually warms to my idea. Leaning back against the wall, he strokes his jaw thoughtfully before catching my gaze.
“What about you? You’ll be there. You can’t just walk out unscathed,” He pauses, his eyes narrowing into slits accusatorily. “You’re gonna burn yourself again? No, I won’t let you do that.”
“You have a better idea?” I challenge, and Cian stiffens before scowling at me. “The worst part of a house fire is the smoke, Cian. This plan has the best odds of succeeding. You said you would do this, because my plans are better than yours.”
“I’ll consider it.” Relenting gruffly, Cian rubs his face in agitation before standing up and leaving the small room. Briefly, Connor takes the needle off my skin to sit back and stare at the door before turning his twinkling gaze to me. He smirks, his shadow of a beard rippling before he opens his mouth.
“I guess even he has a soul, huh?”
Chapter Twenty
Sorcha
The silence is awkward and heavy, and I lick my dry, chapped lips. I can’t force my voice past the clog in my throat, but Cian sighs sharply and reaches across the back seat of his car. His palm is hot as he drags me over the leather and onto his lap.
“If you do this, what does that mean you’re willing to try with Byrne and Marrin?” He murmurs gravely, his voice reverberating through him. His body thrums with tension, his eyes cold as they train steadily on the scenery. “You’ve changed a lot the last few months. Are you sure you can pull this off?”
“I can. Siobhan won’t get in my way again,” I grumble, clenching my jaw as anger settles in the pit in my stomach. That fucking bitc
h. . . tried to play me, over dibs! “If she wants Marrin so bad, she’s more than welcome to take a crack at him. She can’t kill someone, even someone that wronged her. She thinks she can, but she won’t be able to. All I have to do is wait for her to screw it all up.”
“We still need to figure out what she’s doing contacting Byrne, but if she is innocent of that. Did you ever consider that Bella got to Kaitlyn? She did threaten you with the power she thinks she’ll wield after we’re married,” He asks, finally tearing his eyes off the window to gaze down at me pensively. “It’s possible, isn’t it?”
“I guess you’ll find out when you bring her to your dad’s,” I say, and Cian grumbles deep in his chest. “You need to tell Kaitlyn that you know what she’s doing, and if she spreads the rumors, you’ll let her live. Just that, nothing else. Since we don’t know exactly what she’s doing or who she’s working with, we need to get her to draw her own conclusions.”
“I can do that,” Confirming his role, Cian cups the side of my head to gingerly hug me, and I close my eyes to savor this closeness. The tumultuous atmosphere in the car lifts, and he presses his lips to my crown to inhale deeply. “It means you went through a transformation. Like I said, you’ve changed a lot. You used to be so disgusted when I touched you, but now, you don’t tense up or cringe. You’re not as cold as you were when you first came here. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.”
I hum softly, a low heat creeping into my cheeks as Cian threads his fingers through my hair. My chest aches, but there’s no pain, and he rests his head back to continue looking out the window. His voice rumbles through his muscles, straining when he exhales slowly. “Despite everything, or maybe because of it all, I don’t see myself escaping you. Your schemes, and your big, blue eyes . . . It’s terrifyingly easy to get caught up in it. Without you, I would’ve never known Siobhan was fuckin’ with me, or experience what life could be like with someone I want to be with.”
Glancing up, the earnest thread in Cian’s tone rings in my ears, and he clenches his jaw hard. “It doesn’t matter, but I’ve never dirtied my cock with that disgusting fuckin’ slut. The fact that she thinks I would just because of a piece of paper is laughable. Even if Bella gives in to her delusions, because the alternative is acknowledging she’s fucking screwed.”
“Byrne used to make me eat his scraps off the floor,” I murmur, and Cian stiffens against me as the temperature drops below freezing. Memories play behind my shuttered lids, but his tightening grip chases them away as his heart stutters against my cheek. “He would get so mad if I left anything. And then, when Marrin got arrested, Byrne hit me with those plastic rods that open and close blinds.”
“That’s how you got the scars on your back?” Cian asks, his voice frosty, and I nod with a shuddering sigh. “Did Byrne blow up on you when Bella denounced him, too?”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t as bad since he didn’t like how my stitches opened all the time. It grossed him out,” I reveal, and Cian releases my cheek to prop his arm on the window to hold his chin on his fist. The silence is damning even as the car slows and takes a turn. Really, it isn’t difficult to ignore most of what happened. It’s probably too easy. I should talk to someone eventually, maybe. “It helps I’m able to compartmentalize it pretty well . . . and that I took down Marrin, even if it was only temporary.”
“Stop the car,” Cian says suddenly, and the driver veers off to roll to a stop near the curb. “There he is.”
“Who?” I lift my head, peeking through the tinted windows across the busy street. Surprise storms through me. I raise my brows at the familiar face strolling towards the car, and I blink hard. “Him? He’s one of yours?”
“Did he do something to you?” Cian asks sharply, expectancy glowing in his eyes when they meet mine. I shake my head, covering my eyes hastily. “If he did, you need to tell me. Despite being undercover there, he’s still my man and is expected to maintain some sense of morals.”
“No, that’s not it. I was just surprised. We never explicitly talked, but,” I pause uncertainly before the door beside me pops open. Twisting as vaguely recognizable, brown eyes meet mine to widen in surprise, I offer him a little wave. His jaw drops, and Cian clears his throat roughly before the man jumps into the back seat. “Hello.”
“You look so good! Damn,” Grinning broadly at me, he shuts the door to thrust out his hand. Anxiety burrows into my gut, and my fingers tingle as they slip up his palm. His jubilant smile belays the gentleness of his handshake. “I guess we never really introduced ourselves. I’m Jack. I gotta say, I was really relieved when word got around that you convinced Byrne to send you here.”
“Um, th-thank you?” I sputter uncomfortably, and Jack releases my palm to settle into his seat. Staring at the back of the driver’s seat, I purse my lips thinly, my mouth drying from the strength of his sunny disposition. Cian relaxes a little before redirecting the conversation.
“So, what did you find out from Kaitlyn’s contact, Jack?” The air shifts noticeably, and I breathe a discreet sigh of relief when Jack’s eyes leave me. “Something useful, I hope.”
“It is, I think. I know this is gonna sound crazy, but . . . I was snooping in Byrne’s secretary’s office, and I think the person Kaitlyn’s working for is Siobhan,” Jack says cautiously, and I flex my fingers in my lap from the sudden tension of confirmation. “It’s either her, or Bella. All I got from the texts and stuff they sent to each other was that Kaitlyn was being pressured by ‘a stuck up bitch,’ and she couldn’t wait for ‘it’ to be over. I mean, really, it could be either of them, but Bella doesn’t have the clout.”
“She felt she did enough to threaten Sorcha the other day. I just mentioned that possibility. If you have anything to add, I’d appreciate it. I really don’t wanna interrogate my sister,” Cian glances over at Jack warily, his lips thinning with expectation. “Was there anything that could tell you which of them it was?”
“Not anything particularly identifiable, but . . . I mean, it sounded like a Real Housewives’ gossip session,” Jack says, exasperation heightening his tone as he flops himself back dramatically. The car rolls back into the street cautiously before speeding up, and I close my eyes to focus. “I know I only got snippets of things, but it really seems to be that it’s been going on a lot longer than Bella’s been there. She’s only lived there for what, five, six months? There’s something about what I did manage to read that felt familiar.”
“That doesn’t bode well,” Cian mumbles unhappy, and I tap my fingers together as his sigh rolls down the back of my neck. “How to deal with this quietly is the problem. Siobhan never fucking leaves. I guess, if I called Dad and explained everything, he could call her away, but he’s pretty hands off about any squabbling between us.”
“Don’t tell him,” I say, and eyes settle on my shoulders as expectancy follows closely behind. “I have a plan. And it’s not gonna be quiet.”
“You gonna elaborate on that?” Glancing up at Jack’s drawl, I lick my lips heavily. I cast Cian a questioning look, and he nods firmly without taking his eyes off the scenery beyond the darkened glass. Jack’s eyes narrow on me shrewdly, and he rubs his temple with his thumb before speaking up. “I know I couldn’t really help you while I was in deep at Byrne’s, but I did almost crack a few times. I’m not gonna apologize or anything, but I want you to know that I really was rooting for you.”
“Um, thank you. I don’t need your help,” I reply, sourness coating my tongue while discomfort slithers up my spine. Jack smiles ruefully, hiding behind his knuckles, and I inhale in preparation. “While you threaten Kaitlyn, I’ll confront Siobhan. She’s not a good liar, especially put on the spot. Everything she’s done so far has been sloppy, but well-timed. We have to figure it out before we set your house on fire—”
“Wai- whoa, whoa, hey . . .! Set the house on fire? What the fuck?” Jack sputters wildly, his eyes boggling slightly, and he pinches the bridge of his nose with a harsh sigh. “What in God’s fucking nam
e possessed you to think up setting the whole ass house on fire? Just to cover up the fact that Cian got played?”
“No. First, it’s to kill Bella and have a story that satisfies everyone,” I answer firmly, and Jack scrunches up his nose even as his brows twitch in shock. “Second, to get Kaitlyn out of the way rather than having her just disappear. I don’t need Byrne or anyone that works for him realizing she was caught. Third, if this has been going on for a while, who knows what’s been bugged or tampered with, and we can’t just abandon everything. Fourth . . .”
Tapping off my points on my fingertips, I scowl nastily as my ire rises with each item I tick off my list. Cian’s eyes bore into the back of my head, and I clench my hands into tight fists.
“When Marrin’s released and finds out what happened, he’ll come after me, or Siobhan. He’ll come after anyone that he feels screwed him over. He might even come after Colin directly for letting all that happen to him. He’s gonna find out his sister’s dead and assume you murdered her to get out of marrying her, so he’ll go after the people around you,” My voice chills at my own explanation. I crane my neck and clear my throat of its tightness. “If your house burns down, surely your dad will let you stay for a few weeks. That’s long enough to find out the terms of Marrin’s plea deal and figure out what to do next. Also, I have questions for him, and I don’t want him to ignore me.”
“I have a question or two of my own . . .” Cian trails off, his murmur promptly crushed under the weight of my scheme. Jack stares, slack-jawed, and I tear my eyes off him to exhale a bitter breath. Plopping his hand on my head, Cian rubs my scalp comfortingly as he turns his gaze back out the window. “So, what do you need to pull this off, sweetheart?”