Page 11 of The Chief
Ghosting my free hand along her cheek, I marked her with my blood. Red. Wet. A promise of the pain she was going to suffer at Finnan’s hand if she continued to refuse to answer the question. “I think there could be one thing,” I replied, playing my trump card. Molly O’Reilly had done everything she could to disappear, but you couldn’t hide every skeleton—especially not from me. “Orla.”
Molly’s eyes fixed on me, a tidal wave of emotions swimming in them. “Wh—What did you say?”
“Orla,” I repeated, smug fucking victory lacing my tone. “Your half-sister.”
Her mouth twisted in anger before she spat in my face. With a sharp growl, I reared back and slapped her, then wiped away the spittle left on my cheek. Molly’s face was still turned away, a red mark already forming. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and I briefly wondered whether this would break her. Her sister wasobviously someone she wanted to protect, since she had done everything in her power to erase any connection between them.
“Fuck with me, and your sister gets dragged into this.”
Molly finally turned back to me, her eyes now lifeless as she stared into my face. “Orla’s already been dragged into this,” she replied hollowly. Something dark simmered to life behind her blue irises. “And I would rather die than let her get hurt by you or any other man.”
“You’re really willing to die on this fucking hill?”
She nodded. Once. Resolute. “If I tell you anything, he’llknow, and my sister will be the one to pay the price.”
“Who the fuck ishe?” I demanded, feeling a territorial rush tunnel unbidden through my body.
“Please,” she replied. “I can’t tell you. Now, let me go.”
“You know I can’t do that, Jynx.”
“Then, I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Blinding pain suddenly eclipsed all my thoughts. Jerking backward, I glanced down, finding another knife had been plunged into my leg.Anothermotherfucking knife. The sound of harried footsteps drew my attention as Molly raced down the stairs. I peered over the railing to the flight below, where she’d paused. A look of contrition and pain crossed her features, and then…
She ran.
Chapter 5
Molly
Medically speaking, I knew my heart couldn’t physically tear away from its cavity and beat out of my chest from the adrenaline rush, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t exactly how I felt right now. The organ waspoundingin my chest. Beating so hard, so fast, my breath was coming out shorter and sharper than ever before.
Gripping the handle of the stairs, I raced down the last flight and burst out into the open foyer. My arrival was met with stunned silence, and I knew why. Reaching up with a shaking hand, I touched the blood that still sat wet on my cheek, knowing exactly how bad I looked. The blood on my hoodie would be visible and horror still haunted my face—not only had Istabbeda man, but I’d also slashed his arm open.
It had been hard to ignore the blood flowing from the wounds that I had created. Every skill I’d developed and everything I’d learned screamed at me to fight. The harm I had caused him was bad enough, but I knew what I was capable of if my back was against the wall. Keir had me pinned, but the feel of his hard body hadn’t dulled my instinct to survive.
“Hey?” someone said, approaching me like a wounded animal. “Are you?—”
Darting through the main library doors, I squinted against the sun and continued to move. Home was the logical choice. Keir didn’t know where I lived. I’d never told him. He’d approached me in the coffee shop where we’d first met, asking if I was down to fuck. Fallon had just gotten back together with the Mac Tíre Clan’s Reaper, and I was intelligent enough to see the connection. Keir wantedher—not me—but for a guy like him, pussy was pussy, and he needed to forget he was in love with his clan brother’s woman. It helped that I was everything Fallon was not. Dark to her blonde. Slender to her curves. Brash, bolder, more outspoken.
I was her replacement.
A fuck to help him forget.
I’d known and accepted it as I’d seen the way he looked at her but understood she didn’t see him the same way. Loneliness was real and seeing my friend happy had caused an ache in my chest. Coupled with Grady’s threats against my mam and sister, hooking up had seemed like the best way to kill two birds with one stone.
I wasn’t proud of what I’d done, but that small connection to another human being who didn’t want to kill me—didn’t want to kill methen—had been invaluable. But now here I was. Running from the man I’d delivered a warning to, unable to tell him the truth.
When I reached my building, I opened the front door and slammed it shut behind me. Given it was a communal entrance, I wasn’t holding my breath that the lock would keep Keir out if he followed me here. I’d need to rely on the three locks and slide chain on my flat to deter any unwanted visitors.
With adrenaline still coursing through my frazzled veins, I hauled ass to the fourth floor, quickly locking myself inside my small studio. Ripping my bag off my body, my hands shook as I lifted them closer to my face. Keir’s blood was drying in patches,the red stains binding to my hands. Rushing to the kitchen sink, I turned on the water—a red smear now left on the hot water knob—and washed the evidence away.
I frantically scrubbed my hands five times before I was sure all traces of blood were gone, although if I was being honest, there would never be enough soap in the world to get rid of the blood I wore. I had begun meticulously drying my hands with some kitchen towel when the sound of someone hammering on my door echoed in the otherwise silent studio.
Unbidden, a startled scream left my throat, and I mentally cursed myself. There had been a slim chance whoever was on the other side of that door would’ve fucked off and thought nobody was home when I didn’t answer. However, with that noise, they knew I was in here now. As I backed away from the door, I saw it rattle on its hinges when another volley of hammering hit it.
“I know you’re there, Molly,” a dangerous voice drawled.
