Page 66 of The Endless Want

“Even if I did,” I mutter, hating the crack in my voice, “it wouldn’t matter. She moved on with Liam. She chose his side.”

Conor snorts. “She’s loyal to Liam, not romantic with him. And last I checked, she lies awake at night thinking about someone who isn’t Liam.”

I stiffen. “What do you know?”

“More than you,” he says. “Because you’re too busy hiding from the truth to actually look at her.”

I throw the pillow at him. He dodges easily. “You’re insufferable,” I mutter.

“And you’re in love,” he replies. “So we’re both having a rough night.”

I try to laugh, but it comes out thin. For a moment, the room stays still, quiet except for the hum of the old refrigerator and the flicker of the broken lamp in the corner. I close my eyes, letting exhaustion pull at my edges until the world softens.

Without meaning to, I drift.

When I wake, sunlight slices through the blinds at a cruel angle. My mouth tastes like ash. My head throbs in rhythmic pulses behind my eyes. Conor is sprawled on the floor, snoring like a dying engine.

I roll off the couch, grab the water bottle I ignored last night, and drink half of it in one go. The cold liquid brings me halfway back to life.

Work waits. Liam will expect a report. The Italians want numbers. The club needs a walkthrough on the door counts. And I need to make sure we haven't left any cracks for the Russians to slip through.

I’m about to grab my jacket when my phone buzzes.

Loyalist; Boss. Need eyes. Ailish being trailed. Started half hour ago. Unknown car. Eastern European plate. Could be nothing. Probably isn’t.

My heart stops.

Then slams hard enough to shake the breath out of me.

Loyalist; Orders?

Orders.

I know the orders. I know the protocol.

I know I should call Liam.

Alert the Italians.

Send a gather-and-shadow squad.

Follow the cautious, calculated path.

But caution has never been enough when it comes to Ailish.

My fingers fly across the screen.

Declan; Gear up. Two cars. Non-Irish plates. Meet me at the lower docks. Five minutes.

Another text comes through instantly.

Loyalist; On it.

I shove the phone into my pocket, grab Conor’s spare keys off the hook, and head for the door.

I don’t care if this is a false alarm. I don’t care if Liam thinks I’m reckless. I don’t care if every move I make digs me deeper into a hole I’ll never get out of. She’s being tailed. Again.

I’ll burn every street in this city down before I let this happen again.