Page 36 of Sins of the Father

The phone calls painted a clear picture. Detective Doyle was asking questions. The files that need to stay buried, files I have copies of on my phone. Security measures at "the house." All centered around me and my ‘safety’. He must think I am an idiot if he thinks I don’t hear and see all these things.

My hands are folded in my lap, to hid ethe shaking and my racing pulse. Cillian drives like he’s in an F1 race, taking the fastest route back to my apartment. Not his place.Mine. The distinction feels important. Our time away is very much over.

"You’ll be out all night?" I ask, testing the waters.

His jaw tightens. "Always something with my family."

The words drip with threats and lies. Family business. Not shipping concerns or import delays. Theotherkind of business. The kind that you do not want witnesses for.

We stop at a red light. Cillian's phone buzzes again. He glances at the screen but doesn't answer. The caller ID shows "E." before he dismisses it.

"Everything okay?" I ask.

"It will be," he says, eyes on the road as the light turns green.

I want to ask about Doyle, but he doesn’t know I heard his conversation. About what questions he's asking. I need to know if my cover remains intact or if I should run tonight while he works. But asking would only confirm what we both know.

Instead, I watch the city pass outside my window. Familiar streets that might soon be nothing but memories if I have to disappear. The life I built as Orla Kelly crumbling with each silent mile.

Cillian parks outside my building, the engine is still running. He is not coming up.

"Thank you for the getaway," I say, reaching for the door handle.

"Orla."

I pause, hand on the latch.

"Be careful," he says, his voice softer than expected. "Boston can be dangerous for people who aren't... real."

Our eyes meet. Behind his controlled expression, I see the regret, the silent warning. He’s giving me a chance to get away.

"I'll remember that," I reply.

He gets out, walking around to open my door. The gesture feels strange now, formal and stiff. He walk me to the door, and stops there.

"Good night," he says, leaning down to kiss me.

The kiss feels like goodbye. Gentle but final. His lips linger against mine for just a moment before he pulls away.

I want to ask him so many things. About Doyle. About what comes next. The words gather on my tongue?—

But I stay silent. Some questions have answers I’m not ready to hear.

"Good night, Cillian."

I walk into my building without looking back. Through the glass doors, I watch him return to his car. He sits there for a while staring at nothing before driving away.

In my apartment, I check my security. The hidden cameras I installed. The backup files encrypted in multiple locations. The go-bag packed and ready for me to disappear right now.

Tomorrow there will be consequences for whatever Doyle did tonight. I pour myself whiskey and try to forget the taste of Cillian's goodbye kiss. I should leave—right fucking now.

CHAPTER 16

CILLIAN

My phone blares at six a.m., cutting through sleep. The beach house trip cut short only yesterday, and now another bigger crisis demands my immediate attention. Eamon's name flashes on the screen— again. She ran, like a thought she would, only I never thought she would run to me, not from me.

"What?" I ask, jumping from bed.

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