“How about once this conversation is over, you give my brother here a good ride? It seems he needs it?—”
I lunge for Brennan, but he’s fast and manages to duck away from me before my fist connects with his jaw.
He chuckles. “You make it too easy.”
Fiona shoots Brennan a look that could rival Ronan. “Freddy could prove to be useful. Plus, he has connections, and I’m talking about real ones. The kind that don’t show up on paper.”
“I don’t like it.”
“He owes me, Cormac. More than he owes Lorcan.”
“Connections,” I repeat. “Through your ex.”
“Through a man who screwed up and knows it,” she corrects. “There’s a difference.”
I pin her with a look. “You’re serious.”
“Deadly.”
The word lands between us, heavy with implication.
She’s not naïve about what she’s suggesting. She knows exactly how this looks, and yet, she’s not backing down.
Her expression softens. “And you don’t have to worry. He won’t try anything. Freddy hates owing people.”
I scrub a hand down my face, exhaling slowly.
My pulse is still elevated, the residue of the morning clinging to my nerves.
This isn’t just about jealousy, though I can’t deny it’s there. It’s also about a deep and gnawing need to keep Fiona away from anything that could hurt her, which in my book includes Freddy.
“I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.”
Fiona doesn’t interrupt. She knows me well enough to let me get there on my own.
“But…” I meet her eyes again. “If you’re insistent on going, you’re not doing it alone.”
She lifts an eyebrow as the corner of her mouth twitches with amusement.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
Brennan throws his arms up like he just won some sort of prize. “Road trip!”
I scoff. “You’re not coming.”
“Like hell I am not. I want to witness you beating the crap out of this guy in the middle of visiting hours. Fiona, you’re in charge of popcorn.”
Fiona rolls her eyes as Brennan leaves, giving us a rare moment alone.
I walk around the island and pull her against me, feeling my muscles relax when her arms wrap around my waist.
“You don’t need to do this,” I whisper into her hair.
This isn’t just about the security aspect of Fiona walking into a prison filled with men even more dangerous than Adrian Smirnov and Lorcan combined. It’s about everything else.
About the fact that after all we’ve been through, after the way the walls of this house have already been tested, I don’t trust the world with her. Not even for a second.
“Yes, I do,” she says firmly.
