Page 60 of The Chief
Another second. Another minute. Another fraction of time, in which Orla was being taken from the safety of the Sionnach Clan’s territory and into the Raven’s.
When Molly reappeared, she had a button-down shirt clutched in her hands. It was bright pink with palm trees covering it.
“It was his favorite,” she explained. “He always said he’d take us to Hawaii one day, but he never did.”
I felt the gravity of what she was giving me. This was the last scrap of her father. Something he’d worn. Something he cherished. Yet I was about to wear it into a fucking war.
“I’ll do my best to get it back to your mam in one piece,” I promised.
Taking off my jacket, I slid my arms into the sleeves and shrugged the material over my shoulders. I was broader than her father, and the seams of the shirt strained over my chest and back. The buttons bulged but held.
“It’s a little small,” she commented, staring at me like she was watching a ghost.
“It’s only temporary,” I replied. “We collect Orla and come back here. I’ll have Gael put your sister under his protection.”
“What about my mam?”
“Her too.” Making sure the keys to the Rover were in my jacket pocket, I asked, “Are you ready?”
Raising her chin, she nodded. This woman did not back down.
“It will take us only an hour to get to the Fiach compound.”
The Fiach Clan compound was in Ballymascanlon. Like the Sionnach Clan, the Fiach Clan house was a grand Georgian building, but they had a converted coach house adjacent to the main building connected by a breezeway. Honestly, I didn’t think that Sweeney had this much taste when it came to property, but this trip was proving full of surprises.
We parked down the road from the main gate; the sun having risen on our drive north.
“What’s the plan?” Molly asked, wringing her hands.
Reaching over, I placed my palm over one of hers, feeling her relax. “Don’t worry, Jynx, I have a plan.”
I, in fact, did not have a plan.
I had no idea how we were going to get inside without any real firepower of our own. My gaze flicked to my side mirror when I noticed a white van coming up the road, bearing the name of a laundering company. This fucker couldn’t even clean his own fucking sheets. Opening my door, I stopped the van, pulling out my gun as I rounded the driver’s side.
The guy was smart. He already had his hands up as he stammered out, “What do you want?”
I took in the navy-blue coveralls he was wearing. “Your van and your clothes.” Popping open his door, I showed him the way out with the muzzle of my gun. “Strip.”
He reached for his zipper, but his eyes widened when Molly appeared on the other side of the van. “Run!” he told her, eyes darting between us. “Go! Now!”
Her gaze moved to me and narrowed. “What are you doing?” she hissed, marching closer.
“Finding us a way in.” Reaching into the van, I pulled the keys from the ignition and tossed them to her. “Check the back.”
Rounding the rear of the van, she opened the doors and climbed inside. Every second of silence made the barbed wire around my chest tighten.
“Jynx?” I called.
“There’s an industrial laundry trolley on wheels back here. Cleaning supplies and another set of coveralls.”
Fucking perfect.
Returning my attention to the guy, I waved the gun in his direction, indicating I wanted him to continue. He shucked the heavy material and handed it to me.
“I’m going to need that security pass as well,” I said, gesturing to the lanyard around his neck.
“They’ll kill you, you know,” he said. “That’s a clan house up there. They don’t mess around.”
