Vivian takes her bag out and pulls out a syringe.
“What’s the matter, Aisling? Can’t perform without a hit first?” Her voice is sickening sweet, making the nausea in my belly even worse. It’s like a terrible, wicked dream, but I can’t wake up.
Tiernan’s with another woman.
Vivian spied on me.
She’s given me away to the police and framed me for murder. And the worst part is? The needle in her hand calls to me.
I want to forget that Tiernan did this to me. I want to forget that he means anything to me at all.
“You betrayed me,” I whisper to her.
“Betrayed you? No, doll,” she says, shaking her head. “I’m your friend, remember?”
She hands me the needle. “Here you go, darling. You don’t need me to do it for you, do you?” She gives me a placating smile. “Here you go.”
I want the blissful relief.
I want to forget.
I take the needle from her.
Chapter 17
Tiernan
I hate watching her leave that room, and a part of me screams inwardly when she does.
Don’t let her go.
How could I have such feelings for her so soon?
But this is the way of the Clan, I remind myself, just as I’ve reminded her. We don’t do things conventionally. We don’t do things the way others do. And it’s not like I’ve only just met her.
I knew the girl she once was. I knew the innocent lass who was my sister’s best mate. And I know the woman she’s become, unencumbered with the dull effects of the needle.
I go to take my phone so I can track her, but it isn’t there. Jesus. I look all around the room, but time’s wasting. I’ve sent the woman I love to the fucking sharks, and I’m still treading water on shore.
I yank open the door to find Lachlan on the other side.
“Y’alright, brother? You look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost.”
“Aye,” I grate out. “Jesus, Lach.” I fill him in quickly. He trots by my side.
“Fucking hell, Tiernan,” he says. “And you don’t have your phone?”
I shake my head.
“Last time you saw it?”
I think. “Right before she left the room, goddamn it.”
Lachlan scowls. “You don’t think Malachy…”
I shake my head. “Hell, no. He’s one of us.”
We trot, heading toward the headmaster’s, when bright blue lights nearly blind us.
“Fucking hell,” I grate out. “Police?”
Have they come for her?
Have they come for me?
I run faster. I burst into the hall to the headmaster’s office and see a phone, shattered into pieces on the floor. I pause and stare at it. I recognize that pearly lavender phone case.
“Jesus,” I mutter, stooping to pick it up. “Aisling’s?” My throat feels strangely tight.
Lachlan frowns. “You recognize it?”
“Aye.”
“What the hell is it doing here? And why the hell is it all smashed up?”
I shake my head, listening for the sounds of the cruisers outside. I need to find her fucking now.
“Headmaster’s office,” Lachlan says, pulling out his own cell. “I’m calling Keenan.”
He dials and I try the door. It’s locked, but I can hear voices inside.
Damn our plan to hell. I need her safe. I need her with me. I’m not fucking risking anything else and risking her safety.
“Open the door!” I bellow. The voices inside go quiet. “Open it!”
Lachlan scowls as he talks to Keenan, jerking his head toward it. I know what I need to do. I take a few steps back, then run at full speed, my shoulder slamming into it. The door creaks on its hinges but doesn’t budge. Lachlan comes up beside me.
“You hit it with your shoulder while I kick it,” he says. “Keenan’s handling the police. Tully and Cormac are on their way here.”
I nod, relief flooding through me. Thank Christ I’m not alone. My brothers are at my side. They’re here.
I slam into the door at the same time Lachlan kicks, and it caves in, splintering. I jump through, and look around, but there’s no one in here. I heard her; I know I did.
“Aisling!”
I scream her name, and at first I don’t think I hear anything at all, then the smallest sound comes in the distance. I look to Lachlan.
There’s the muffled sounds of cries from another room. Lachlan and I both spent years of our lives here and know the place well.
“What leads into this room?” I ask him, my heart slamming against my rib cage.
He screws up his face in concentration. “Classrooms are down the hall,” he mutters, shaking his head, then his eyes go wide. “The fucking back hall to the auditorium, Tiernan.” He jerks his head to the back. “Here!”
There’s a little door that looks like a closet, and again, when we go to open it, it’s locked. We meet each other’s eyes, no words necessary. I rear back, shove into it and he kicks at the same time. At first nothing happens. We do it again. Wood fractures around it, and we run down a dark hallway.
“No more shouting,” Lachlan says. “Someone’s got her. We have to find her and not push them to run further, aye?”
I nod, but there’s no muting the pounding sound of our feet on the walkway. We suddenly come to the end of the hall, and bright lights blind our vision. I throw up a hand to cover my eyes, squinting against bright overhead lights.
“Mother of God,” Lachlan mutters, staring ahead. I look to find a huge screen with a projected image on it, the same one they used for assemblies in the auditorium.
Aisling.
Some sick fuck’s got her tied up, a gag in her mouth, and she’s writhing trying to get out of the restraints, her image large and luminous on the big screen for anyone to fucking see. Fury wells up in me like a beast, molten lava clawing at my insides. My hands are clenched into fists, I throw my head back, and I roar, “Where is she?”
“Bloody hell,” Lachlan mutters, blinded as well as I am, my eyes flitting from one thing to the next but she’s nowhere to be seen.
“Camera’s in the back room,” Lachlan says. “All the videography. At least it was when I was here.”
“Jesus.”
I want her out of the hands of whatever sick fuck has her. And I will end him.
“This way, Tier,” Lachlan says, jumping off the stage and running up a ramp that leads to the back, when the amplified sounds of Aisling’s screams fill the theater. My stomach lurches, and my fury intensifies. Jesus.
“It’s a trap, Tiernan!” Her voice nearly deafens me. Someone strikes her to silence her. There’s a sound of flesh on flesh, and she cries out. Red hot rage seeps into my veins. I’m ready to kill for her. Fucking kill.
“Go!” she screams. “Get out!”
Like hell. Lachlan doesn’t even slow, but gets to the back door and breaks it down with me.
The first thing I see is Clifford, sitting placidly in a corner, one ankle propped up on his knee. And there isn’t a man holding Aisling down, but a woman.
She looks up at me and smiles, her eyes cold and hard.