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Prologue
Two weeks. Two goddamned weeks I’ve been trapped here.
I’d woken up in this very room, covered in cuts and bruises, a broken arm, and a pounding headache with no idea how I’d gotten here. The last thing I remembered was being pushed down the stairs in my apartment block and then the vague recollection of two pairs of feet walking toward me then someone grabbing me and pushing me onto my back.
I’d glanced around the room, taking in my surroundings but when I’d tried to get out of bed I’d been met with a wave of dizziness and seconds later I blacked out again.
When I had eventually woken, several hours later I’d noticed there was a drip in one arm and the other was in a plaster cast, I also noticed there was a bottle of water with some painkillers on the bedside table. A little over an hour later, I heard the click of the lock on the door and a huge guy with dark hair and black eyes entered the room. He didn’t say anything, he just walked toward me and placed a tray of food on the bottom of the bed then left.
It was four days before I felt like I had even a hint of enough energy to try and run. I’d waited by the door as he entered with my food and before he had a chance to react, I’d made a break for it. Only I didn’t get very far. Rounding the corner at the end of the corridor, I’d bolted down the stairs straight into the arms of another two security guards. They’d grabbed me, and dragged me back to this room, throwing me on the floor before locking me in again.
When running didn’t work I tried refusing to eat for all the good it did me, day two into it and they stopped letting me sleep for anything longer than ten minutes at a time. By day six of no food, limited sleep and only water I was struggling to function.
I still have no idea who kidnapped me. Or why I’m here.
The only time I see anyone is when they bring me food and water. They don’t talk to me, even when I ask them questions. Hell, they barely even acknowledge my existence.
I don’t know what’s worse, the fact that I don’t know why they took me and what they have planned or the complete silence. I feel like I’m going crazy not knowing anything and not having anyone to talk to. The longer I’m alone, the worse the feeling of despair gets.
I want to hope that he’s looking for me, that they all are, but I know I’m only kidding myself, I told him to stay away, I told him I needed space, and that I would contact him when I was ready. My silence will just make him think that I don’t want to see him. I regret the things I said, I was angry and frustrated, I was humiliated that once again I’d been proven wrong. I worry I’ll never get a chance to tell him how sorry I really am, that I’ll never again see his beautiful face, or tell him I love him.
Chapter 1
I thought the revelations from Rory’s letter would change things, I thought she would finally believe me. Fuck I thought at least she would believe him. But we’re going on for day four of not talking after yet another argument about her piece of shit Da. I just don’t know how to make her see sense.
I let out a sigh and place my full cup of coffee in the sink. I don’t have time to overthink things with Bell’s I need to get to Ma’s. Halliwell called us last night to tell us Nora is back in the country, and he was bringing her and the kids to Ma’s today. We’d tried to get to her yesterday, but he said that she was tired and needed the rest.
I flip the switch on my coffee machine turning it off, then grab my keys and phone from the counter before making my way into the garage. Hitting the button on the wall as I pass to open the roller door then jump into my car, I smile as the engine comes to life on my matte dark green Aston Martin DBS Coupe.
* * *
I sit on the sofa, my ankle crossed over my leg, my knee bouncing, Connor watches me from across the room his actions mirror mine, I glance down the moment I feel a hand grip my leg.
“That’s fucking irritating.”
“Sorry Ronan, guess I’m more nervous than I thought I was.”
He gives me a nod, not saying anything else. We’re all on edge. The atmosphere is tense, we’re all anxious to see her, to meet them. We get why she was kept hidden, why she agreed to it, but it doesn’t mean we have to like it. We missed out on so much. Fuck… for the last two years, we’ve all been kept in the dark.
The silence in the front room is only broken by the distant sounds of Ma and Niamh in the kitchen making breakfast for everyone. Feeling too irritated to sit still any longer I get up to see if I can help.
“Ma, why don’t you sit down, I’ll do the breakfast?” I lean down placing a kiss on her head then gently moving her away from the stove.
She rolls her eyes at me, pushing back to the spot I’d just moved her from. “Talk to me son, what’s going on, I’ve never seen you like this.”
I don’t say anything, I just shake my head. How do I tell her that the guilt is eating away at me, how do I tell her that I lie awake at night, feeling like I’ve failed them all, as a leader, as their brother her son. I should have been able to protect Rory, he should have felt like he could tell me what was going on, he should have been able to trust that I would protect him and Nora, but he didn’t. He chose to do it himself because he knew. He knew deep down that I couldn’t save him, that I would never be good enough to protect his family. I’m lost in my thoughts that I don’t realise Ma has moved over to Niamh and Connor is standing next to me until his hand grips my shoulder giving it a gentle squeeze.
“I know that look, I can see you battling with your inner demons, don’t battle them alone you don’t have to, you’re the one that taught us that.”
I nod, he’s right. After everything we’ve been through, we’ve made more of an effort to ensure we talk to each other. But how do I burden him with my guilt?
“Poker, yours tonight all of us, and don’t argue Kill. We’re brothers, we stick together.”
I don’t have a chance to say anything, the others are all entering the kitchen taking their seats when there is a knock on the door, Ma heads through the hall to answer it while the rest of us wait with bated breath.
A few seconds later Ma walks back into the kitchen followed by Halliwell, then Nora, carrying a little girl, while holding the hand of a little boy. The little girl has her face buried in Nora’s neck, while the boy grips onto her hand hiding behind her while trying to get a look at us without actually being seen.
Nobody says anything for several minutes. We each watch Nora, as she looks at each of us, fear and pain etched across her face. She takes a breath readying herself, when she says that last thing, I expected her to say. “I’m so sorry for keeping them from you, but I promised him that I would stay hidden until it was safe for us to come out of hiding, please don’t hate me. Please forgive me.”
