Page 155 of Beneath the Quiet

“I don’t…They’ll kill me, Maeve. They’ll get to me.”

I frown at him, the strain on my arm making it shake, but I can’t stop now.

“Who will get to you?”

“The people I work for. They don’t forgive easily.”

“The Gardai can protect you if you just tell us everything you know. Help us bring them down.”

He shakes his head, the tears streaming down his cheeks in a relentless torrent. “You can’t guarantee that. You know that.”

Just as I open my mouth to try and keep talking some sense into him, the doors behind him slide open, and a gust of wind blows inside. He whips around, waving the gun from side to side.

“Joe, don’t!” I call out, but it’s too late. A single shot fills the air, and Joe drops to his knees on a wild scream, but at least still alive. I crumble to the floor next to him and wrench the gun out of his hand, putting it behind me, where someone takes it gingerly out of my grip.

Anger beyond belief comes in one wave after the other, pulling me under.

“You stupid, stupid man,” I spit. My control slips through my fingers, and then I lose it. I fist my hand, pull my arm back, and land him a single blow to his jaw. Pain shoots up my arm, but I don’t care. I want to see him bleed.

“That’s for shooting me!” I yell at him, then fire another blow to his nose. “And that’s for vandalising my beautiful cottage!”

I raise my arm a third time, but I get caught midair by someone behind me.

“Gallagher! Enough!”

I snap my head back, biting down on my lips to stop the torrent of expletives from leaving my mouth when I look at the grim face of my boss staring me down.

“Stand down, Detective. Now.”

I breathe deeply and pull against his hold on me. “I’m calm, Sir. Let me go.”

He gives me a pointed stare, but when I don’t back down, he nods once and releases the tight hold on my arm.

“Fine. Let the paramedics see to his leg. He’s not running anywhere for a long time.”

I can’t look at the bloody mess on the floor, or at Joe, for that matter. I wipe the sweat off my face and push up on my knees, the adrenaline dying down in my blood. When I’m on my feet, a large dose of nausea hits me, followed by a headache, and I sway on my feet.

“Mae!”

I reach out blindly, and when a strong set of arms pulls me closer and a hit of my favourite citrusy scent wafts in my nostrils, I plant my face into his chest, my knees buckling, but I’m okay.

Because I already know he’s got me.

“Aidan,” I sob into his chest, the strain attacking me full force now it’s over.

“You’re safe, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

Aidan pulls me even closer, his hands on my face, searching, and his mouth leaving gentle kisses on my cheeks, my forehead, my lips. His fingers swipe at my tears as they cascade down, and I hiccup, the pounding in my head relentless but nothing I can’t handle.

“Maeve?” A soothing hand on my back makes me open my eyes, and when I see Franny’s frazzled but gentle eyes on me, I move from Aidan’s embrace to hug her.

“Oh, you’re okay!”

She hugs me back just as fiercely.

“Yes, I was in the loo when I heard him come in, shouting. I’m fine, dear.” She pushes me gently away and pats my cheek. “But I think you need to get your man here to take you home now.”

I blink rapidly, raising my eyes to search for O’Neill. I find him off to the side, talking with a member of the Garda Emergency Response. He raises his eyes at me in question.