Page 110 of Stolen Rebel

“I’m so fucking tired,” I whisper. I don’t need to look at Liam to feel him step closer, but he doesn’t touch me.

Sorcha steps forward again. Slowly, giving me space to stop her, but I don’t. This time, I lift my arms. And when she wraps me up, I don’t stay stiff, I collapse, done holding everything inside.

I cry into her shoulder, the sound tearing out of me like it’s been waiting five years to be heard. And for the first time in as long as I can remember, no one tries to silence me.

Chapter 49

ROWAN

Dinner feels oddly normal. Plates clink, food is served, and someone—Darragh, but I’m not naming any names—makes a comment about the wine being shit, even though it definitely isn’t. Sorcha rolls her eyes. Maeve slaps the back of his head with a loud “tut,” and Patrick mutters something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like agreement.

It’s so painfully ordinary I almost don’t know what to do with it. It feels like I’m watching it happen from across the room, like if I reached out, my hand wouldn’t belong to me. Like I’m still in that warehouse, and this is the dream I’m about to wake up from to the bloody nightmare we left behind.

Five years stolen from me. A man I trusted to protect me dead. It still feels like blood and mud are lodged under my fingernails.

And yet, we’re just sitting here having a family dinner like this is just another night. Titan’s at my feet, a paw draped over my foot like she’s protecting me or comforting me. She hasn’t left my side since we got back.

Everyone’s just here, living their lives like I didn’t walk back into this house a different woman than the one who left it to go for a day at the spa. I sit at the table, my spine straight, hands steady around my glass.

The conversation moves on around me, easy and familiar. It’s business, it’s logistics, it’s something about shipments and timing and deliveries that I only half follow.

Sorcha reaches across the table, sliding a dish toward me. Our fingers brush for a second too long, and her concerned eyes meet mine. “Are you okay?”

“I will be.” I nod. And I know it’s the truth. Not now, not yet. But some day I will be.

She nods once, like she understands. She probably does.

Darragh leans back in his chair, studying me for a beat. “You handled yourself out there, Row.” He’s not teasing or accusing. “Maybe there’s a bit of the Mahoney spirit in you after all.” He winks, his insinuation heavy in the air making my cheeks sizzle.

“I had to.”

He nods, and if I’m not mistaken, his features scream approval. The Mahoneys see me differently now. At least I fucking hope so. Not as something fragile, a liability, something they need to protect. But as a strong woman who is capable of standing beside them.

Liam’s hand brushes mine under the table before settling on my thigh again.

When I’ve eaten more food than my stomach can handle, I stifle a yawn. “I’m exhausted.”

Liam stands and offers me his hand. No one comments or reacts, no one tries to stop us, and Sorcha squeezes my arm as I walk past her.

The rest of the house is quiet. Our footsteps echo softly against the marble as we make our way to the stairs and up to Liam’s room, passing my old prison cell as we walk.

“We should burn that room to the ground.” My voice breaks as a yawn slips out of me.

Liam bumps my hip with his. “Then where would Darragh’s kidnapping victim stay when it’s their turn?”

I roll my eyes. I don’t have the energy to argue logic with a man who deals in kidnappings on a regular basis.

When we reach his bedroom door, I pause, my hand resting on the handle. I’ve been in this room before. I’ve slept in this bed, his bed, but never like this, never with everything stripped back to the truth of what we are now, what we were then, what we will be tomorrow.

Tonight, I walk in knowing exactly what monsters look like, and I choose him anyway, because he’s my monster. And maybe somewhere inside me, there’s a monster lurking too.

I push the door open and step inside, almost tripping over the damn dog who’s followed right at my heel.

I turn to face Liam, my face heating. “I…”

He steps toward me, sweeping his thumb over my cheekbone. “You just want to sleep?”

I shake my head. “No, but… you might have to wait a few days.”