Page 44 of Bloody Knuckles

"Who is this?" His voice, so familiar yet distant after weeks of separation.

"It's Aoife."

Silence, "Prove it."

"The first horse you bought me was named Cúchulainn," I answer. "You taught me to ride at the Kildare property when I was six."

A sharp intake of breath. "Aoife. Are you hurt? Where are you?"

"I'm safe." I glance at Cormac, who drives like a rally cross driver through side streets. "Not with the Donovan’s anymore, but not with Liam either."

"Liam?" Confusion colors his tone. "What does your brother have to do with this?"

"He orchestrated a false rescue today. His men killed Cormac's security, claimed they were acting on your orders. They were taking me to Liam, not to you."

Silence stretches, heavy with my accusations. When my father speaks again, his voice has hardened to the tone that makes the underworld tremble.

"Where are you now, daughter?"

I hesitate, meeting Cormac's gaze. He nods once.

"With Cormac Donovan. He... rescued me from Liam's men."

A humorless laugh. "Rescued. From one captor to another."

"It's complicated," I answer, the understatement of the century. "Father, Liam has been working with Finn Donovan for years. The feud between our families—he's been orchestrating it, playing both sides."

"Convenient accusation while in Donovan's custody."

"Murphy confirmed it before he died. Check his accounts—offshore transfers from a shell corporation. Liam's been positioning himself to take control of the family."

My father's silence speaks volumes. He's already suspected something, perhaps noticed inconsistencies in Liam's reports, unexpected leaks of information.

"Come home, Aoife," he says finally. "Whatever's happened, we'll fix it as a family."

Cormac's hand tightens on the steering wheel.

"I can't," I answer. "Not yet."

"Because Donovan won't release you?" Steel enters my father's voice. "Put him on."

I offer the phone to Cormac, who takes it without slowing the car.

"Patrick," he greets, coolly formal.

I can't hear my father's response, but Cormac's jaw tightens.

"Your daughter remains under my protection by necessity, not force," he replies. "Your son's actions today escalated things well past our temporary understanding."

More from my father, voice raised enough that I catch fragments—"return her" and "consequences."

"She's free to leave whenever she chooses," Cormac responds, surprising me. "But given Liam's betrayal of both our families, she is safest with me."

He listens a moment longer before passing the phone back to me.

"Aoife," my father says, voice gentler now. "Is what he says true? Are you staying willingly?"

The question pierces deeper than expected. Am I? What began as captivity has changed into something undefined, dangerous, addictive.

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