Page 36 of Malevolent Hearts
As I approach Rohan, his concerned expression is evident. His eyes search mine for any sign of how I am holding up. With his hands nestled in the depths of his pockets, he greets me with a soft tug of his lips, but there’s an underlying tension in his voice as he asks, “So, this is where you’ve been hiding out?”
Busying myself with packing up my duffel, I keep my eyes anywhere but on him. “Is it hiding if I text you my whereabouts?”
From the corner of my eye, I spy him scanning my gun range, almost as if he’s never been here before, even though he most certainly has. Shifting from one foot to another, his gaze falls back on me. If I wasn’t so immersed in everything that’s happened recently, I’d find his discomfort hilarious. Rohan is the most self-assured person I’ve ever come across, so to see him approach me with such caution is slightly comical. “Suppose not.” Finally, when he’s done surveying the havoc, he asks, “How’ya holding up? Everyone’s been worried about you. Nobody’s seen you since the church.”
His words bring a flood of emotions rushing back—the grief, the pain, the overwhelming sense of loss that I’ve been trying to bury beneath the distraction of target practice. I meet Rohan’s gaze, and although I’m grateful for his presence, I take a moment to collect myself before responding.
Indulging in a deep breath, I shock him by telling the truth. “Honestly… I’ve been struggling. It’s been a hard couple of days, learning to cope with everything, but being here, focusing on something tangible, it’s helped… in its own way.”
Rohan nods in understanding, his expression one of empathy and support. “I get it.” He pauses for a moment, almost as though he is unsure whether to continue. “Lorcan has been teaching Saoirse how to shoot this week, too. He says it’s helping, but I’m not so sure.”
Confusion narrows my brow when his face contorts into a world of pain. “Have you asked her?”
“That would involve her being in the same room as me. Something she’s actively avoiding.”
Hurt dances in his eyes, moving to a haunting tune of despair. Although I understand Saoirse’s need to retreat, I don’t understand why she would push Rohan away. Call me hypocritical, but if things were different and Cadden wasn’t holding up bloodstained palms, he’d be someone I’d be leaning on. Unfortunately, his role in the events building up to my brother’s demise leaves me to deal with these demons alone.
I’ve no doubt Saoirse loved my brother, as he did her. But pushing Rohan away isn’t the answer. She needs him to keep her afloat, and even though Rohan and Liam had their issues, I know Liam’s death has hit Rí harder than he’s willing to admit. Because beneath the constant competition to be the best, they respected each other, especially since they had to put their differences aside for Saoirse’s sake.
Needing to ease some of the tension resting on my cousin’s shoulders, I reassure him. “Let her grieve, Rohan. When she’s ready… be there waiting.”
After closing the distance between us, Rohan places a hand on my shoulder, a silent gesture of solidarity amid the turmoil. At that moment, standing at the outdoor gun range with Rohan by my side, I find a sliver of solace in his unwavering presence and genuine concern.
Tension cuts through the air, but Rohan being Rohan, slices through it by approaching the reason I texted him at four this morning asking him to meet me here. “Are you going to tell me why you summoned me, or am I to believe you just wanted my company?”
Gesturing to the opened back of my jeep, I urge him to take a seat. Once he’s perched on the ledge, I steady my breath with a deep inhale and sit next to him, our shoulders brushing against one another, offering a subtle support.
Then, I dive into the events of the past few days and replay every moment that led me to the secret room in my dad’s office.
“So he has cameras covering every inch of the estate. That’s to be expected when he’s the head of a syndicate family, B.”
“It’s not the cameras that surprised me. It was what was on them.”
Rohan’s eyes widen, his features contorting into a furrow of confusion.
“There’s footage that links him to the explosion,” I begin, my voice tinged with a mix of sorrow and fury. “From what I gather, the bomb was meant for you and Saoirse per your dad’s request, but judging by what I heard, my father had a plan of his own, and it didn’t matter who got caught in the crossfire, including Liam.”
Taking a moment to steady myself, I continue. The words tumble out in a rush of emotion. “My dad and Liam had a heated discussion before the party. Liam wanted out; he didn’t want any part of the syndicate anymore. Unable to change Liam’s mind with his manipulation tactics, my dad made a call once Liam left the room, putting his son in imminent danger, knowing what was coming.”
Rohan’s jaw tightens as he processes the information, his gaze flickering with a mix of anger and determination. “Who was your dad talking to?” he asks, his voice laced with urgency.
I shake my head, my anger simmering just beneath the surface. “I’m not sure. If I had to wager a guess from what we know, I’d say it was Finn Connelly. But I can’t be sure since I couldn’t hear the caller.”
“Considering the conversation I heard in the hallway before the explosion, I’d say you’re accurate in your assessment. Unfortunately, we’ll need more than my word to convince the rest of the syndicate to take action.” He pauses. “Did he say anything else? Something tangible we can use?”
For a split second, I hesitate on my knowledge of Cadden’s involvement. A small part of me is still unable to fathom that he’d intentionally hurt me. Even though all signs point directly towards him, I don’t want to hear the blaring alarm bell I’m blatantly refusing to acknowledge. Partly because our past outweighs the present, but also because I can’t believe I was ever stupid enough to trust a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Turns out the devil is not a monster who files his teeth with the bones of his victims. He’s a master of disguise, a filthy liar who looks just like somebody everyone knows. He doesn’t deserve my loyalty, not anymore.
Blowing out a breath, I expose a piece of my broken heart. “He mentioned Cadden needed to stick to his end of the deal,” I reply, my voice heavy with the weight of betrayal and deceit as I lower my chin to my chest.
“Fuck.” Rohan’s voice drops to a whisper, making me snap my gaze towards his. When our eyes connect, he adds, “I’m sorry, Bev.”
Unwilling to give Cadden another tear, I shrug my shoulders as I bite down on the inside of my cheek, pretending his betrayal didn’t shatter me from the inside out. “It is what it is, Rí. Better I know who my future husband really is, right?”
“We’ll make them pay, B. Even if it’s the last thing we do. And as for Cadden, we will figure out a way to get you out of that marriage.”
I don’t tell him about the contract I signed at the end of my first summer in Dingle—the one that sealed my fate. After I complete my second trial, I have to move from Killybegs to Dingle and vow my life to the boy who made me believe in love before he became the man who taught me even the strongest of hearts are delicate enough to break.
I give Rohan a deflated smile and remind him of the little time we have left before we take our rightful places at the syndicate table. If the events of the last few weeks have taught me anything, it’s that the current kings aren’t ready to hand over their power, and they will do anything to prolong their reign, including eliminating their successors.