Page 171 of Three Irish Kings
And the first step is to close my eyes and sleep for a couple of hours. The second is to make this meeting happen.
After exactly twohours of sleep and countless twists and turns in bed, at around eight the next morning, I make a call to Cormac.
He answers on the third ring. “Liam! It’s been a dog’s age.”
“Aye. How are you?”
I hate the hypocrisy, hate the falseness, but the parts have to be played.
“Fine, fine. How’s your father?”
I freeze at the question. I’ve been keeping my father’s condition under wraps for years. “He’s well.”
“Good to hear.”
“Good. Now, I’m calling because we need to meet.”
“Aye, I think that's wise, given this week's... unpleasantness.”
“Aye, and the sooner, the better. I want to settle this today if possible.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and anxiety rushes through me.
I need him to let me meet him at the mansion, not one of his warehouses or a public place.
“My place. An hour?”
My shoulders sag, but I try not to show it in my voice.
“I’ll be there.”
Hanging up the phone, I take a shaky breath and text Cillian and Dare in our group chat.
One hour.
It takes less than half an hour for us all to meet up. They have the rigged, blacked-out SUV, and I take one of my nondescript sedans, and we meet up a half mile from the entrance to Cormac’s mansion.
“We’ve got this, right?” Dare’s brow furrows.
He looks better, freshly shaven and showered, having gotten some sleep.
Cillian claps him on the shoulder. “We’ve got this, Dare. All you have to do is loop the cameras. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“I know you’re tough, Cill, but the security?—”
“I got this.” Cillian’s voice turns low and dangerous, and Dare shuts his mouth quickly.
Dare sighs and gets into the SUV, pulling open his laptop, which looks worse for wear.
I frown. “You sure that thing can loop the cameras?”
Dare glares at me. “Don’t talk shit about Betsy.”
I snort.
Cillian cracks a smile. “We’re going to get our girl back.”
I nod.
