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She scoffs. “Great, so whilst I was sick to my stomach, terrified you were being strangled daily, you’ve been having wild sex and living the high life with your husband and Connor fucking Brayford!”
Guilt swims in my gut, and I reach out, taking her hand. “No, Shay.” I sigh. “You told me to use his desire towards me to my advantage and I am.” I’m really not. If anything, Ronan is abusing my attraction for him.
Her shoulders slump and my heart breaks for her. “I don’t know how you can sleep with him after what he did to Daddy.”
“What?” I kick Vinnie to push him onwards so I can catch back up with her.
“He didn’t tell you about it, did he? The night of the wedding?” I frown, and I remember the blood spots on his shirt. My father would have taken a beating for sure. Any time I have mentioned my family, Ronan or Connor have been quick to shut me down. I stopped asking after a while.
“No, they won’t tell me anything,” I grumble.
“They took his hand, Cara, cut it clean off. Made us watch. How can you smile and joke with a man like that?” she admonishes. The picture she paints has my insides squirming. Ronan never mentioned dismembering my father. But why would he? I'm still seen as an outsider by Connor, the enemy's daughter. I was so excited to find Shay here, and now that she is, I feel ostracised by the one person who I thought would have my back, no matter what.
“I’m trying to stay alive, Shay!” I snap.
“I’m sure you can accomplish that with your legs closed!”
I jerk back, affronted by her bitter tone.
“Why did you come if you feel so passionatel—” Her face closes off, and she looks away. Realisation settles like a heavyweight in my gut. “He sent you to spy, didn’t he?” She clears her throat, and I know my sister well enough to recognise when withholding the truth. “Did you know when I was held in the warehouse that all I thought about was coming home to you, and all he cared about was if my attacker had divulged any information about him?” Shay narrows her eyes and looks at me from under her riding hat. “When he married me off, he told me it didn’t matter what my back looked like. I’d be lying on it most of the time, anyway.”
She looks momentarily shocked. “Cara.” The harsh gleam in her eyes leaves an unsavoury feeling in my stomach.
“Tell him I’m doing him proud.” I pull on Vinnie’s mane, turning us abruptly, and kick into a canter back towards the manor.
CHAPTER NINE
RONAN
“He’s still not talking,” Isaiah says in a clipped tone. Most would have given in by now. Begged for death. Our unknown assailant is bleeding more than he is speaking, and it’s frustrating the hell out of us. “Whoever he works for, he is willing to die slowly for them.”
“That can be arranged.” I scoff. I’ve already punctured his body with more holes, using the same weapon my wife protected herself with.
“Do you think he works for The Panel?” Deacon moves into the room and drops in a chair, his dark beard and heavy scowl at complete odds with Isaiah's blonde hair and clean-shaven face.
“You think Declan Murphy is in on his daughter being attacked?” Connor sits behind his desk, his tongue bar rolling along his teeth.
Isaiah shrugs. “Maybe they were sending him a message?” His attention is pulled to something outside. “Cara is back.” He frowns, and I stand. Her quick footsteps echo in the foyer and then she is swinging Connor’s office door open.
“You took my father’s hand!” she exclaims, paler than she was when she left on her horse. “His hand, Ronan.”
Connor stands abruptly, reaching for his gun, and I move quickly to block his aim. I draw my own weapon and point it directly in Cara’s face.
“We’re having a private meeting.” I seethe.
“Your wife forgets her place.” Connor’s icy tone has Cara’s eyes blinking into wide shock. I search her gaze and can see she is struggling. Something else is bothering her.
“I’ll help remind her.” I step close, and she shakes her head as more footsteps sound beyond the office. Cupping the underside of her jaw, I quietly demand she open her mouth. My stomach burns with self-loathing for placing so much fear in her eyes. She’s shaking, her expression pleading. “Open up, doll.”
I ease her jaw wide and slip my gun past her lips. Something stabs into my chest. I search her eyes, confused at what I'm feeling. Guilt. An emotion I fear will be my fucking downfall. She cries softly, and I drop my gaze to her lips, lips wrapped around my cock on more than one occasion. Lips I have grown to miss when we are apart.
“Where is your place, Cara?” I hum, using the gun to lower her to her knees. I keep my arm steady because I’m shaking for the first time and it's unsettling.
Shay rushes in and skids to a stop. “Oh my god. No!”
“Your place, Cara!” I seethe. Connor has moved to aim his gun at Shay, and both women await their fate. I silently plead that Connor focuses on Shay.
“With you. To the Brayfords.” She garbles around the metal.
