Page 62 of Dublin Beast

“I also know Yas wanted you to move forward. Find happiness. You’ve stayed buried in grief long enough. I don’t blame you—not for a second—but if this girl makes you happy—even if it’s temporary—enjoy it.”

I don’t answer right away because I know the danger of what he’s suggesting.

The second I let myself enjoy it, I’m fucked.

I’m already too close and if I don’t put the brakes on soon, I’ll take a header straight off the cliff.

There’s a long silence while I sift through the tangle of my thoughts. When I don’t come up with anything to say about that, I change the subject. “I’ll have Kieran send you boys the link to the camera feed for the farmhouse. If anyone has any inspirational thoughts, feel free to ring me back.”

When I step out of the bathroom a minute later, I stare at the empty bed. I tried to keep it simple by staying on top of the covers.

The woman knows her mind, I’ll give her that.

I pull on my clothes for the day and force myself upright, my spine crackling like an old man’s. There’s a low murmur of voices coming from outside the bedroom—Harper’s soft cadence mixed with Kieran’s gruff bite—and I head out to face the day.

Maybe today’s the day we find Siobhan.

Maybe it’s the day this whole revenge mission finally shifts forward, and I end my father’s killer.

I wrap that happy thought around me and manifest the fuck out of it.

Harper is standing in front of the stove in tight blue stretch pants and a hoodie that swallows her frame. She’s flipping something in the frying pan, her soft, raspberry hair twisted into a messy knot at the back of her head.

Domestic bliss, with a side of deadly vendetta—my kinda girl.

At the table, Kieran’s already halfway through a ham and cheese western stacked so high it looks engineered. His laptop is open, a live feed of the farmhouse flickering across the screen.

“Anything new?” I ask, crossing the room.

He doesn’t look up. “Actually, maybe. A black sedan with tinted windows pulled up about twenty minutes ago. Two agents got out and went inside. Haven’t come back out.”

“Did you get a look at them?”

“I did.” He taps the keys, flipping to a still frame. “Snapped a few photos and sent them to Sean. Told him to run them through his guy with access to the ID filters. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“Maybe,” I mutter, though I don’t quite believe in luck anymore.

Still... it’s something.

“Have you sent them the cloud link so they can keep tabs on the farmhouse, too?”

“Aye, about an hour ago.”

“And the other items you ordered from your guy?”

“I’m heading over this afternoon—around two.”

Grand. Then we’re all set.

“Coffee’s hot.” Harper gestures to the pot with the spatula in her hand.

I pour myself a cup and she spins to face me with a plate in her hand. “For the growing boy.”

I huff a laugh and take it. “Feeling better, I see.”

“Back to normal.” She shrugs, like the whole thing’s no big deal. “Other than the scabby horror-show happening around my wrists, I’m back to one hundred percent.”

I sit beside Kieran and dig into the sandwich, taking one massive bite before groaning. “Jesus. What did you do to the bacon?”

---