Page 70 of The Chief
“There are two bedrooms attached to the sitting room,” Hannah said, clasping her hands together and stepping aside. “There’s also a bathroom to the right. You should be more than comfortable. I’ll bring you some sandwiches and coffee shortly.”
Mila unhooked her arm from mine and walked inside, crossing to one of the bedroom doors and peering inside. “I’ll give you Brits one thing. You know how to do opulence.”
“Thank you, Hannah,” I said. “We appreciate it.”
She bobbed her head, then turned back the way we’d come.
“Babe, you have got to see this bedroom,” Mila called, sounding giddy.
Mila was spread-eagled on a bed that could probably fit four people. Her infectious smile brought out mine too, and I wondered how she could still be so positive despite being sold by her father.
Mila patted the bed beside her, inviting me to join her. Flopping down, I stared up at the decorative plasterwork ceilingand sighed, feeling content for probably the first time since I’d discovered Orla was gone.
Guilt churned in my stomach knowing my sister was still out there, but I had to trust Keir knew what he was doing. He had resources I could barely dream about.
“So, what’s your story, babe?” Mila asked, cracking one eye open and turning her head to look at me. “Kidnapped, too?”
“Are kidnappings such a common occurrence?”
She snorted. “They are in my world,” she muttered. “It’s just I knew what kind of life I would live, but you don’t seem like the kind of girl who is a part of this world.”
“I’m not. I’m a regular nursing student.”
“Then how did you get dragged into this?” Mila gestured to the room and the grandeur that surrounded us.
“By trusting the wrong person,” I said softly, regret thrumming in my chest.
“Babe, been there, done that. Got the fucking T-shirt. Zero out of ten. Would not recommend.”
Aside from Fallon, I’d never let another person close to me—close enough to call them a friend. But hearing Mila talk like I was her equal made a smile creep onto my face. Ever since Grady had given me that bullet to deliver, I’d felt like I was being hunted. It seemed like a lifetime ago now, and this small reprieve did more good for my soul than I thought possible. “Who did you trust?”
She blinked those distinctive gray eyes at me. “Someone who I thought was a friend. My father’s adviser.” She rolled her head back, her gaze fixed on the ceiling once more. “He said I could trust him. That he’d get me out before my father could send me out of the country. But he didn’t.”
Reaching out, I felt for her hand, grabbing it when I found it. “Men are dicks,” I whispered.
She huffed out a small laugh. “The worst kind of dicks. They break your heart.”
I turned to face her in time to see her wipe a tear away with her free hand, so I squeezed her hand in mine. We laid like that until the coffee and sandwiches arrived.
“You want something?” I asked, sitting up.
Mila’s eyes were shut as she said, “Sleeeeep.”
Sliding from the bed, I padded into the sitting room, shutting the bedroom door behind me. Keir hadn’t returned and being alone only made my mind turn to the fact that Orla was still missing.
Had Keir found anything out yet? Were we too late?
I slouched in one of the delicate armchairs and snagged a sandwich from the tray. Nibbling on the corner, I sat back and waited for Keir to show. I hated to admit it, but I craved the comfort of his presence. He’s gone from my enemy to … not my lover, but somewhere in that gray space in between.
The front pocket of my hoody suddenly vibrated with a text, and I lurched forward, snatching it out to look at the screen. There was a new text with a photo attached.
Unknown number: Missing something?
The taunt was followed by a photo of Orla. She was blindfolded and sitting on the filthy ground in a dark room. Her pajamas were dirty, and blood was smeared under her nose.
With shaking fingers, I typed out my reply.
What do you want?
