Page 49 of Dublin Beast

I raise an eyebrow. Really? We’re playing dumb?

“There’s so much to choose from,” she says, her voice sad. “Am I curious? Of course, I’m an investigator because I’m always curious, but…”

When she doesn’t finish, I take a guess. “But you’re not sure you’re ready to hear it.”

She takes another sip and stares at her mug. “I don’t think anyone raped me—I mean…all my girl parts feel intact and, well, unused. Nothing bad or telling is going on down there.”

Thank fuck.“I’ve been hoping we got there before anything like that happened. I’m relieved to hear it.”

She takes another sip of her tea. “But there’s still a lot to unpack. I woke up once bound to a bed, then have a brief memory of hanging naked and someone rambling close by, then…did you take me in the shower?”

I hold up my palms. “That was simply an exercise in getting your core temperature up. I saw more of you when I walked in a moment ago and you flashed me a full view of your very bare?—”

“Okay!” She groans and hides her face behind the tea, but I see the way her shoulders shake with silent laughter. “No need to revisit that point of humiliation. I remember that one just fine.”

I take a mug down from the cupboard and pour myself a tea. “Then what would you like to talk about?”

A moment passes before she exhales and sets her mug down on the little coffee table. “Fill in the blanks for me. What happened?”

“You’re ready to hear it?”

“Not sure,” she admits, her lips pressing together as she sighs. “I’ll let you know if I need you to stop.”

Something tightens in my chest. Aye. Fearless and determined. That’s my girl. No. Not my girl.

My friend. My acquaintance. My research partner.

I keep the highlight reel simple, giving her a quick rundown of how we tracked her to the auction, how Kieran and I found her and got her out, and how we brought her here.

She listens without interrupting, her expression unreadable. But when I finish, she’s silent for a long beat, her fingers tracing absent patterns on the arm of the sofa. “Did you kill people?”

I hold her gaze, watching the way she swallows, the way she braces herself for the answer.

“People were killed.”

Her breath catches, but she doesn’t look away. Doesn’t flinch. I expected her to recoil, maybe shift away from me. Instead, she nods, as if she already knew. “And where are we now?”

“While you were out getting dinner at the pub, one of the searches you’d set up came back.”

She straightens slightly, her usual flare of curiosity flickering in her eyes for the first time in too long.

“Your search on Sentinel holdings highlighted a farmhouse just outside of Yorkshire as the most likely place where they might have Siobhan hidden. That’s where we went this afternoon.”

She shifts, pulling her legs out from under her and crossing them beneath her sweater. “What did you find?”

I hesitate, but only for a second. Sure, she’s been through hell, but she wants to know. And honestly? If telling her keeps her alight with purpose again, then I’ll keep her distracted until she’s fully recovered.

I settle into the chair at the end of the couch, my elbows resting on my knees as I tell her what we found—how the farmhouse wasn’t just a safe house, but a fortified stronghold, locked down tighter than we expected. How it wasn’t just a couple of guards, but Sentinel operatives, armed to the teeth.

She listens carefully, her eyes locked on mine, nodding as she processes every word. “And Siobhan? Was she there?”

“We don’t know. She might still be there, but we couldn’t get close enough to confirm. We need more information.”

“Is that where Kieran is?” she asks.

“Aye, he’s gone to get us surveillance equipment and to speak to one of his contacts in the area.”

Harper exhales slowly, like she’s piecing everything together. She chews on the inside of her lip as her fingers trace absently along the rim of her mug. I can practically see the gears turning in her head, the way she weighs every detail, every risk.

---