Page 167 of Three Irish Kings
“You gonna hire me a maid? Or maybe you want to clean it up yourself. If that’s the case, have at it.” I shoot back, although there’s no bite in it. I’m too tired to be full-on bitchy.
“Whatever.” Cillian sighs.
I type another guess into the computer, and it dings that it’s the wrong one.
Fuck. I have one try left today.
“Dare, maybe you should take a break.”
I shake my head. “No. I know I’m close.”
I’m not even really talking to him, and he knows it, so he doesn’t respond.
“Have you eaten today?” His eyes roam through the room, likely taking in all the empty bottles and the lack of food containers.
“Sure.” I haven’t eaten since she was taken from us. Even before that, when she was gone. Half a slice of pizza is the last thing I remember eating, but I’m sure as shit not going to tell him that.
Cillian’s like a mother hen, always checking in on me.
At least Liam leaves me the fuck alone.
He knows how important this is. How important it is to find Isla before something unimaginable happens to her.
Cillian should know that too, but he’s too busy trying to take care of me and Liam. Maybe that’s his way of coping, but it gets on my nerves.
Isla and the baby are the only things that matter.
“Right. Have you slept?”
I groan and turn to him, glaring. “Are you just going to interrogate me or is there another reason you’re here?"
“Dare, you’re running yourself ragged. You won’t be able to help us when wedofind Isla if you don’t stop and take care of yourself.”
“I’m fine, Cillian. Just...get out of here, would you? Let me work.”
“You’ve been working non-stop since she was taken from us, and we haven’t gotten any closer?—”
“I’m trying, okay? I’m doing the best I can because I know all of this is my fucking fault, Cill!” My voice raises and trembles at the same time, and I’m horrified to feel tears burning at the backs of my eyes.
Cillian freezes, and I turn back to my computer, staring at the screen, watching that goddamn cursor blinking.
One more try. That’s all I have before I have to fucking sit and wait and despair for hours on end.
I have to make this count.
He kneels down beside me, and I still won’t look at him.
“Dare. It’snotyour fault. We were all down there at the bar, not having any idea that Cormac was in town.”
“I was soangrywith her.” My voice breaks again, and I hate myself.
I hate myself for not being stronger. I hate myself for being angry with her in the first place. And why? Because she mighthave chosen someone else? Because she left a place where she was imprisoned?
Cillian puts a hand on my shoulder, and I take a shaky breath.
“Don’t.”
Then he hugs me, and I break down, crying into his chest like a fucking girl.
