Page 128 of The Endless Want

CHAPTER 38

Ailish

I come back to myself slowly, like drifting upward through dark water. My body feels heavier than I remember, and for one disorienting moment I don’t know where the weight is coming from. Then I remember the baby. The tiny life I’ve been protecting for months. The only warmth I still have in this cement-cold place.,

I press one unsteady palm to my belly, afraid of what I might feel—or what I might not. It takes a few breathless seconds before relief flickers at the edge of my fear. The baby shifts faintly, a small flutter against my ribs. A hiccup of motion, soft and shy, but real. Alive.

A broken laugh escapes me, almost a sob. “You’re still here,” I whisper, leaning forward just enough for my forehead to touch the inside of my arm. “You’re still with me, little one.”

I tell myself everything is going to be okay. I tell myself the Russians aren’t stupid enough to permanently harm a pregnant woman. I tell myself Declan is coming. And even though the dark room doesn’t change, the fear doesn’t vanish, and nothing in my body feels steady, the words help. They’re thin armor, but armor all the same.

The room around me is silent except for the hum of a light somewhere behind the wall. No footsteps. No voices. My wrists ache from the way I’ve been bound earlier, but I’m free now, sitting on a thin cot with rough fabric that scratches my thighs through the ripped hem of my pants. My blindfold lies discarded on the floor. I don’t know why they left me unrestrained—or what it means that no one has checked on me since the last round of questions.

Maybe they grew bored. Maybe they’re changing tactics.

I force myself to breathe evenly, remembering Mackenzie’s voice from our earliest training sessions. You’re not breakable. You’re bloody steel. She’d said it with her hands on her hips, glaring at me as if she could force confidence into my bloodstream. I appreciate her even more now, armed with nothing but her voice echoing in my head.

Minutes pass. Or hours. Time is slippery here, bending around the edges of fear. My heartbeat grows loud in my ears, the way it does when panic creeps in. I rub my belly again, grounding myself. If I unravel, the baby unravels with me. That is not an option.

The door clicks.

My breath stops. Every muscle locks into place, bracing for one of them—the man with the gravel voice, or the woman with the cold hands, or the shadow who stands behind me without speaking. But when the door swings open, it’s none of them.

A woman steps inside. Slender. Nervous. I blink hard, thinking my eyes are playing tricks in the dim light. “Roise?” The name stumbles out of me on a shaky breath.

She looks different—sharper, thinner, her eyes rimmed with exhaustion—but it’s her. Liam’s old PA. The woman who used to hover around him with hopeful smiles and too-bright eyes before disappearing from the Irish entirely.

She closes the door softly behind her. “Ailish,” she whispers.

I stare at her, stunned. “What… what are you doing here?”

Her gaze darts toward the hallway. She presses a shaking finger to her lips and crosses the room in three quick steps. She reaches for my arm, helping me stand even though my legs wobble beneath me.

“We don’t have time,” she murmurs urgently. “Can you walk?”

“I—yes,” I say, though I’m not entirely sure. “How did you even—are you with them?”

“No,” she says, the word sharp with disgust. “But I work for someone who’s tangled up in too many things he shouldn’t be. He got information about a captured asset today and…” Her jaw tightens. “I recognized the description. I’ve been trying to get to you for hours.”

Her voice trembles, and suddenly I realize she’s terrified too—not of me, but of the men guarding this place. She’s risking her life. For me. For a woman she was never particularly close to.

I grip her arm a little tighter. “Roise. Why are you helping me?”

She looks at me, and something in her expression—something old and wounded—softens. “Because whatever they think of you, you don’t deserve this. And—” She hesitates. “Let’s just say my new boss would prefer if you and the Irish stayed alive.”

A shiver crawls up my spine. I don’t ask what she means.

She guides me toward the door, one hand at my back. “We have to go now. There’s a shift change happening. Twenty seconds before they realize this hallway is unmanned.”

My heart pounds as she opens the door and peers out. The hallway is dim, lit by only a single bulb flickering overhead. The shadows seem too deep, too still. Every step we take echoes faintly, making my breath hitch.

“Just a little farther,” she whispers, directing me toward a metal staircase. “Then out the service entrance.”

We move as quietly as possible. My body aches, but adrenaline pushes me forward. I keep one arm wrapped protectively around my belly, shielding the baby instinctively.

At the bottom of the stairs, Roise pulls out a small, old-fashioned key from her pocket. “I stole this. It won’t be missed until someone tries to use it.”

The lock clicks. She shoves the door open, and cold night air rushes in, biting at my skin. I inhale sharply, dizzy with relief. The sky above is dark, no stars visible. A parking lot stretches ahead, lined with vans and unmarked cars.