Page 75 of The Chief
Mila snorted. “It was my mother’s idea. She’s more ruthless than my father.”
“Would you want to return home once all this shit blows over?”
Turning to look out the window, she hummed. “Don’t know. There isn’t anything holding me there. Maybe I’ll stay here.”
I glanced at her. “In Ireland?”
“Maybe. Or perhaps I’ll just travel around for a bit.”
We had left Dublin, moving from the city into rural fields and farmhouses along the R road.
“Do you know where Molly is?”
“According to the tracking app I put on her phone, she’s up near the border.”
There was silence for a beat before Mila said, “Why does that make you so anxious?”
“What are you talking about?” I hated how she could read me so easily.
“The border. Why is that a big deal?”
I spared her a glance before looking back at the road. “It’s the border between this clan and the next.”
“And which clan is the next?”
“The Fiach Clan. The same one you were sold to. My enemy.”
Mila let out a strange, hitched breath. “Oh.” Leaning forward, she reached for something in the small of her back. “At least we have some firepower then.”
I glared at her and the two Glocks she was now waving around. “Where the fuck did you get those?”
“In the back. They had a whole concealed section.”
My narrowed gaze returned to the road as I muttered, “Couldn’t have been concealed that well.”
“I’ll have you know I’m the master at finding things that have been hidden.”
Holding back my scoff, I focused on navigating the winding roads and overtaking anyone who got in my way. I didn’t know what we were walking into in Naul Village, or what sort of condition Molly would be in, but there was one thing I knew. I would walk to the fucking ends of the earth to get her back, and if one hair on her head was harmed, my rage would be unleashed.
Chapter 23
Molly
My time in captivity moved slowly. It was warped, disorienting. The darkness skewed my sense of direction, forcing me to fumble along the walls as I traced the perimeter, searching for a way out. The walls were uneven, like roughly sawn planks, and I’d caught more than one splinter in my exploration.
“What are you doing, Cait?” my sister whispered, from where she sat in the middle of the room.
“I’m trying to find us a way out of here.”
“It’s no use. There isn’t one. I’ve looked.”
Ignoring the defeated tone in her voice, I pressed on. Another sweep around the perimeter, but this time I reached as high as I could. Biting my lip, I suppressed the urge to cry out when another splinter lodged in my fingertips. Running my thumb over the pads of my fingers, I felt the bumps and ridges of the little wood daggers now embedded into the top layer of my skin.
“It’s useless,” my sister said, echoing my thoughts.
“There has to be a way out of here,” I repeated. I had gone through hell and back after I’d killed my stepfather. There was no way it would end like this. “I refuse to be trapped here forever.”
There was aclick, then a sudden draft barreled into the room like a door had been opened. I fell into a crouch, eyes squinting into the darkness to see a faint silhouette.
