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However, the thought of killing every Doyle alive shifts this emptiness I feel. It’s the first time in forever I’ve felt like I’m on the right path. I know that path will be laced with danger, carnage, and blood, but it’s here where I belong.
I look at Cian, hinting the plan starts now.
He gets up reluctantly, clearly wanting to spend more time with Amber, but that can wait. Da has some business meetings this morning; I know because I checked his weekly planner. He’ll be back soon, so we don’t have much time.
“Do you want me to bring them back inside?” Amber asks, looking at the twins who are thoroughly engrossed in their video game.
“They’re all right to stay here.”
Amber nods and commences making my bed, knowing how pedantic I am. I would usually do it myself, but at the moment, it hurts to breathe.
Nodding my thanks, I kiss the twin’s foreheads before Cian and I make our way to the main house. My lungs are screaming at me to stop, but I persevere.
“How’d ya get on last night with Darcy?” I ask, hoping he shares that Rory and Darcy are now seeing one another. This will get Dad off my back.
“Ack, Rory fancies her something shockin’, but she’s not interested. She asked about ya.”
Gripping my side, I inhale sharply to measure my choppy breaths. “Fuck.”
“What’s goin’ on?” he asks, sensing my distress.
“We’re callin’ on the Duffys’ for tea tonight. I think my dad is trying to set somethin’ up with Darcy and me.”
Cian’s eyes widen. “Shite. Rory is really hung up on her.”
“I know. It doesn’t matter what Dad wants. He’s away in the head if he thinks this is happenin’. I don’t want her. I don’t want anyone.”
“Except for the wee doll from last night, aye?”
He grunts when I elbow him in the ribs.
“I don’t want her. She…interested me, aye, but she fuckin’ stole from me.”
“And?” he poses. “Ya steal from everyone.”
“Remind me why yer still my friend?” I quip.
Cian knows not to press. I don’t do feelings or emotions. I never have. He’d love nothing more than to talk about girls over a pint, but I’ve never been interested in that.
But the conversation turns serious when Cian asks, “What happens if yer dad won’t take no for an answer?”
I don’t reply, and instead, focus on getting into Dad’s office.
We enter through the back door where Fiona’s personal chefs are busy preparing her breakfast. I have no idea what she does. She doesn’t cook, clean, or look after the twins. I stay out of her way, and mostly, she does the same with me.
She married my dad a few months after my ma was murdered. She often says she never planned to fall in love with her dead best friend’s husband, but we all know what a load of shite that is. The church allowed their union because my dad wasn’t divorced—he was a widower.
Just thinking about how fucked up my childhood was, I curl my lip and continue walking through the castle, ensuring we keep out of anyone’s way. Cian stands close behind me, always having my back.
When we get to my dad’s office, I look down the long hallway. When the coast is clear, I slip off my silver chain with a key dangling off the end. The key unlocks this office door.
“Yeo,” Cian whispers with a smirk.
Slipping the key into the lock, I turn it, and when it clicks over, I open the door. We enter Dad’s office, then close the door softly behind us.
I head straight for my dad’s desk and drop to a crouch to open the bottom drawer. Taking care to keep everything the way Da left it, I flick through the files until I come to the folder I want. Opening it, I reach for the timeworn photograph that still has the ability to shock me after all this time.
Cian peers over my shoulder, gasping when he sees it. “That’s you?”
