I’d left the lights off.
Something so much greater than terror slid through my veins, paralyzing me for long, torturous seconds as I waited—praying I would see Kieran walk past one of the windows.
But as I waited, hopelessly praying while someone destroyed my house, I realized what else was missing. What else was off.
Conor would’ve been the first to realize I wasn’t home. Mickey would’ve been the only way to get in touch with Kieran. Both would’ve had all of Holloway searching for me . . . and I couldn’t see one member on the grounds.
Another crash came from within the small house a second before Kieran’s words from last weekend drifted through my thoughts. “They’re waiting, Lily. Trust me.”
And suddenly it was the hooded figures that used the dark to their advantage that I saw, as I struggled to get up.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Don’t let them know you’re awake.
A harsh finger stroking my cheek.
Red stains on a shirt and my carpet.
Lifeless eyes.
Lines and circles.
My body began violently shaking.
This can’t be happening again.
Another crash sounded as I turned and ran.
I stared vacantly ahead as Johnny grabbed a lamp from one of the nightstands and casually tossed it into the bathroom. The sound of it shattering on the marble floor was dull . . . subdued.
Everything was compared to the roaring in my ears.
Rage, deep and pure, burned hot in my veins as my eyes slowly made another pass around the room. As though maybe I’d hallucinated the first dozen times, and everything would be different that time.
But nothing had changed other than the new destruction Johnny had caused.
There were still clothes and other touches that boasted a woman lived there, in a place that should have only been occupied by men. One man—an assassin.
“Wrecking the place is only going to alert people that we’re here,” Einstein said from where she rested against one of the bedroom walls.
When Johnny’s response was to stalk down the hall, a crash coming from the front of the small house soon after, she clicked her tongue in disapproval.
“Well, you’re certainly letting them know who was here if they don’t come rushing in before we leave.” Her tone was laced with frustration as she endlessly tapped and swiped on her tablet.
Trying to make a connection . . . trying to gain answers.
Her face had become more pinched as the last half hour had worn on—I knew she wasn’t getting anywhere with the picture.
“Nothing,” she said after another minute, her irritation noticeable as she dropped her arms, letting her tablet slam against her legs. “It’s too far away . . . too blurry. I wouldn’t be able to do facial recognition anyway because her face is mostly hidden by her arms, but I can’t even get a lock on any of her features. She has blonde hair. Maybe. That’s all I know.”
I glanced at the phone in my hand and forced myself not to throw it through the window as I studied the picture we’d received from our snitch tonight.
The girl was sitting on the window seat, just inches from where I now stood, her head resting on her arms as she looked outside.
I clenched my teeth. “It doesn’t matter. It’s her. I know it is.”
“But I don’t know for sure.” Every word from Einstein was clipped, telling me exactly how badly it was grating her to not be able to confirm the girl’s identity.
“We do,” I disagreed, the rumble in my chest hinting at the rage I was trying to keep hidden.
“I know what you’re thinking, Dare, I do. But there are countless blondes in the world. The girl in the picture could be anyone. You said you wouldn’t do anything until you had proof. This isn’t proof.”
“Look around, Einstein.” I raised my arms to gesture to the room as I lost my fragile grip on my composure and seethed, “This is all the fucking proof we need. Not just anyone can handle an assassin. Men like Kieran Hayes don’t allow just any girl into their lives. They fuck women then move on to the next, keeping them as far away as possible so they can’t destroy them. Do you honestly think if Lily O’Sullivan had died that night, he would let another girl close enough to that kind of danger? Close enough to him?”
Einstein blinked slowly, her wide, wild eyes assessing me. “You can’t force your hurt to be Nightshade’s hurt.”
I jerked back, caught off guard by the unexpected assault hurled at me. “I wasn’t—” I ground my teeth, the muscles in my jaw ticking when Johnny slowly entered the room, his eyes narrowed on me as he put himself slightly in front of Einstein—as if I would ever hurt her.
But Einstein just stepped around him, placing a hand on his arm when he tried to stop her, and walked slowly to me. Her large eyes were full of wonder and sadness. “You’re afraid of losing everything again, Dare. I know. I get it. We all do. But that doesn’t mean everyone else would do what you’ve done the last four years.”
“Ein—”
“It also doesn’t mean you’ll be able to keep doing it if you find someone.” She arched a brow, then dropped her head to mumble, “If you haven’t already.”
Hazel eyes and seductive lips flashed through my mind—quieting the need to devastate the Holloway Gang for brief moments before the room came back into view. Before I remembered why we were here.
I shook my head, an argument on my tongue that I couldn’t make myself voice.
I glanced at Johnny, but dropped my stare when I found him watching Einstein intently.
No, not everyone would do what I’d done . . . but I knew Kieran.
I knew what he’d lost, and was starting to get an idea for how well protected he kept the tiny house that was supposed to only be his.
I held up my phone as I turned to leave. “She’s alive. Find her.”
My gaze darted everywhere when I found myself back on the crowded streets of downtown, unable to comprehend what I was seeing—what I wasn’t hearing.
The street fair was still in full swing, but that couldn’t be right.
That night—the passionate kisses with Dare—felt like ages ago.
But even as I took in the people walking around, talking and laughing as they remained utterly clueless to the world around them, I heard nothing.
Only that deafening silence that promised death and destruction.
I clutched the wall beside me as I tried to calm my racing heart. My eyes never resting on one person for long as suspicion pricked at my spine.
They found me.
They came for me.
And I wouldn’t know if the next person who passed by was one of them too.
I shoved away from the wall once I’d caught my breath, and tried to keep my outward appearance calm as I looked for an open store . . . but most of the small town was shut down for the fair.
Digging into the bag I held close to my body, I snatched the glasses I’d dropped in there and put them back on as I walked, knowing full well the disguise could be useless to anyone who might be searching for a dead princess.
I slipped inside the first open place I came across—wanting nothing more than to get off the street that was getting louder and louder as the deafening silence faded away—and nearly groaned when I realized I’d stepped into a bar, filled wall to wall with people.
So many voices. All trying to be heard over the others and the live music coming from the stage, which was like a beacon in front of a mass of dancing bodies.
It was too loud.
I resisted the urge to go back outside, knowing the noises wouldn’t be any easier to handle out there on a night like tonight, and forced the same blank stare I maintained around the Holloway property as I made my way to the bar.
A man and two women stood behind the large wooden bar, the women dressed in tight pants and revealing shirts. Men from my side of the bar followed their every move with lust-filled eyes as the women made drin
ks, while girls tried eagerly to catch the man’s attention.
But his eyes found me, narrowing as he pushed away from the bar to stalk over to where I was standing.
Before my fear could take hold at the thought of being recognized, he stopped in front of me, his lips twisting into a sneer as he gave me a once-over.
“You old enough to be in here?”
I opened my mouth to tell him I was twenty-four, but paused. It wouldn’t have mattered right then if I was thirty or an eighteen-year-old trying to pass off as legal. I’d only ever driven a handful of times when the boys had snuck me out to teach me, so there’d never been a reason for a driver’s license. And my parents had so rarely let me off the property growing up that Mickey had used it as an excuse to stop me from getting an ID.
I’d been well hidden and protected even before they’d faked my death.
Instead of trying to convince the man of my age, I hurried to tell him exactly why I was here. “I just want to use the phone.”
“Sure you do. And I just need a million dollars.”
I didn’t let my emotions slip through. I didn’t scream at him, begging for the phone because it was an emergency.
There weren’t emergencies in our world.
There were tragedies that were repaid.
Despite the raw terror still pushing shards of ice through my veins. Despite the flashbacks from four years ago assaulting me again and again . . . I simply gripped my bag like it would give me the strength to continue on, and forced myself to stare blandly at him.
Lifeless eyes.
Lines and circles.
I blinked, chills skated across my skin, and I sucked in a calming breath as the bartender and bar came back into focus once again.
“Well?” he asked when I didn’t say anything or move. “Unless you’ve got ID or a million dollars on you, you might as well get on out.”
“I just want to use your phone.”
“Look, I don’t need cops in here because I served underage kids. Get on out of here.”
“All I want is to use—”
“Jesus Christ, Zeke. Let the girl use the damn phone,” a girl huffed as she stalked up beside him and slammed a phone down on the bar in front of me. She gave me a tight grin. “Keep it short, then head out unless you plan on showing some ID and buying something. ’Kay, sweetheart?”
I nodded as I murmured my thanks and reached for the phone. I eyed the man as I hurried to punch in Kieran’s number but looked away when his glare found me again.
When the call went straight to voicemail, I quickly hung up and dialed Beck, the only other number I had memorized. Then called again. But he never answered.
I started punching in his number a third time when the phone was ripped from my hands.
“All right, that’s it,” Zeke grumbled. “Whoever you’re trying to get hold of isn’t there. I don’t need you keeping my phone busy all night.”
“I—”
“Now I told you to get on out . . . so turn that underage ass around, and get the hell on out. You hear me?”
I grit my teeth to keep from saying anything more, to keep from begging to let me stay there and call the guys until someone answered, and turned to leave.
And that’s when I felt it. That weight that slowly pressed down on me, making me aware of every breath I tried to take.
Someone was watching me.
If I hadn’t spent years learning to know when Kieran was in the same room with me, I might not have noticed it.
But this wasn’t the same. My heart wasn’t slowing from the overwhelming and terrifying chill that accompanied Nightshade . . . and it wasn’t steadily increasing from being in the presence of Kieran.
I struggled to keep my face impassive as I let my eyes scan the crowded bar, and stilled when I found vaguely familiar eyes locked on me and closing in.
She didn’t pause as she neared me, just grabbed my wrist and hauled me back in the direction she’d come from.
As we got closer to the corner of the building, I found two more familiar faces waiting expectantly on a plush couch.
“Oh, oh! Knew you’d come back to me, nerd,” one of the twins called out as Libby forced me to sit.
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be an idiot, Diggs, she’s not for you.”
“You never know. The newbie might want a night of this,” the other said. “Fuck if we didn’t all see her dismiss Dare.”
“She’s not for you either. Both of you go. I’ll find you when I’m done.”
Libby’s eyes stayed focused on me, darting over me questioningly as she waited for the twins to grab their drinks and leave with groans of protests.
“You look like hell,” she said unapologetically as soon as they were a few feet from us.
“Thanks,” I said tightly.
“Thought I remembered you speaking.” Her tone was the same as it had been earlier that evening. Curious . . . something like awe driving everything she uttered to me. “Who are you? And why is it I’ve never seen you before this week, but suddenly you’re everywhere?”
I’d wondered the same thing when she’d grabbed me.
“I also remember you not answering much . . . kind of like now.” She sighed when I glanced around the bar. “He’s not here.”
I wasn’t looking for him.
Once I’d seen Libby, I’d focused in on every nerve ending. But the comforting buzz that meant Dare was near had been absent.
I was trying to gauge if there was anyone I didn’t recognize looking for me.
“What do you want me to say?” I licked my lips, my eyes darting across the people in the bar again. “You’re the one who keeps showing up where I am, but I haven’t asked why you’re here.”
Surprise crossed her face for only a second before the corner of her mouth lifted in amusement. “Trust me, sweetie, you don’t want to play that game with me. I’ll play all day long and I’ll win.”
“What game?”
“My mom owns Brooks Street, and I’ve been here with the twins ever since you went running off. Not to mention The Jack is my home away from home,” she said with a satisfied smile, lifting her hands to gesture to the building we were in. “Which means you keep showing up in my places. Not that I mind. Not that Dare minds. Speaking of, you never told me how you know my brother. The other day he led me to believe that you don’t, but I find that kind of funny because tonight it sure as hell looked like the two of you know each other really well, if you know what I mean.”
I shook my head and tried to ignore the rush that spread through me . . . tried to ignore the need to feel his lips on mine again. “I didn’t even know his name until you said it tonight.”
She studied me shamelessly, her head tilting as she did. “He’s intrigued by you, you know. And Dare doesn’t get intrigued by anyone.”
Excitement flared deep inside, and I fought to push it back.
“He’s smart and he’s cautious, but from what I’ve seen tonight, I’m worried he won’t be concerning you. Which means someone has to be for him.”
“There isn’t a need to be cautious when there’s nothing going on between us.”
Her smirk was back and broader than before. “I doubt that.”
I looked to the door, trying to mask my conflicting feelings. My need to find Conor was fighting with my need to hide. “Libby—”
“Why did you look so scared when you walked in here?” she suddenly asked, her voice dropping to a whisper. When I glanced at her again, her brow was furrowed.
“I wasn’t.”
“Yeah, okay . . . and my boobs aren’t fake,” she countered with a dry look. “I’ll talk to you all night to keep you distracted until you forget whatever’s happened to you . . . but I can’t help you if you keep running from everything.”
“This is your idea of helping? It comes across as borderline interrogating. And I never asked for your help.” With that I stood and walked quickly out of the bar and back onto the busy streets of downt
own.
But I hadn’t even made it past the building before my wrist was grabbed and I was yanked backward.
“Answer one thing,” Libby begged.
God.
If one more member of this family grabbed me tonight, the Borellos wouldn’t have a girl left to hunt down. I’d be dead from heart failure before they could find me.
I blew out a shuddering breath as my heart painfully started back up, and pressed my hand roughly to my chest in an attempt to ease the aching. “What, Libby? Let it be enough for you to know that there is nothing going on between your brother and me. I’d never spoken to him before tonight.”
She held up her free hand, waving her fingers at me. “Totally not what I was going to ask you, or any of the dozens of questions I want to. Earlier you said you had to leave, but now you’re right back here. It’s only been about forty-five minutes. Why did you have to go?”
Forty-five minutes?
No, it felt like it’d been hours . . . lifetimes.
My head shook, the motion sluggish as I fought my exhaustion from the night. “I just needed to leave.”
One of her eyebrows ticked up. “Earlier you seemed anxious and kept looking around. When Dare came back from running after you, he told me that you’d been afraid when he’d caught up to you—that you’d thought he was someone else. But you’re still in town, asking to use a phone at a bar.”
I stared blankly at her as she spoke, trying to figure out where she was going with this, and worrying what her next question would be.
“Where are you going right now?”
“It’s none of your business.”
Eyes as dark as her brother’s dragged over me repeatedly before she insisted, “Then you’re coming home with me.”
A startled laugh escaped me. “What? No, I’m not.”
“So then you have a home? You have somewhere you can go?” she asked, challenging me. “Because I feel like if you did, you would be there instead of here trying to contact someone. I feel like you wouldn’t have so perfectly replicated what Dare described to me earlier when I just stopped you from walking away from me.” Libby glanced at her nails and gave a noncommittal shrug. “But what do I know . . . right? I’m not observant or right or anything.”
Firefly (Redemption Book 2) Page 11