Page 91 of Shattered Hearts
“Two on the street. Not sure how many were waiting in the wings.”
I explode into the stairwell that leads up to the mansion’s first floor. “Were they Red Hill boys? What did they look like?”
“A giant guy and a scrawny one. Didn’t clock any tattoos.”
Still sounds like a match. “Where are they now?”
“Dead in an alley by Riley’s job.”
My feet skid to a halt on the top stair. What the hell is Cian talking about?
“Why were you at Riley’s job?”
“She had work, and she asked me to drive her.”
Those words hit me like a semi doing eighty miles an hour.
I’m with Riley. Riley’s job. She asked me to drive her. I’m with Riley.
My racing mind courses faster. Suspicion sours the inside of my mouth, welding my jaw shut. Why the fuck are Riley and Cian together right now? Since when do they even talk to each other? Why is she asking him for favors instead of coming to me?
I’m with Riley.Like taking a bullet square in the chest, the crux of this situation punctures me. The thing that makes me want to decapitate someone right now is that Cian saidI’m with Riley.He doesn’t think he’s with Harper. He knows he’s with Riley, which means he knows our secret.
He knows. He has to.
Riley…let him in on it.
I throw the door to the main hall open with such anger, a group of staff people nearby shrink against a wall.
“Get Rory.” Cian’s voice recaptures my attention.
My fury could drive me to hit Cian the next time I see him. “Why?” I stamp down the hallway toward the garage.
“Weren’t you listening?” Cian’s snark has me squeezing my phone too hard. “I managed to grab a cell phone off one of the assailants. Rory should be able to hack it.”
The echo of Cian’s voice changes. I can tell he just pulled into the lot. I head in that direction, breaking left down the mansion’s main hallway. Getting Rory can fucking wait. My first priority is making sure Riley’s okay?—
“Where’s the fire?” Like a jinx, Rory wanders out of the kitchen, shake-mixing one of his famously disgusting homemade health drinks.
“Follow me!” I don’t give him an explanation.
With Rory in tow, I race around the next corner and fly into the garage, running past the fleet of parked cars toward the Audi R8 in Atlantic Ocean blue whipping into a space by the entrance.
Cian’s out of the car almost the same second he cuts the engine. He’s coming straight toward us, already engaging Rory about the phone in his hand, but I bypass them both and book it to the passenger side of Cian’s car.
Gratitude and relief melt into my rage and urgency as I rip the door open. I’m insanely grateful nothing worse happened to Riley today, but the thought of her having a connection with another man makes me want tokill.The last thing I need is a reminder of how bad a choice I am for her. Especially in comparison to ladies’ man extraordinaire Cian.
I crouch down at eye level with her, taking in her scattered, shaken expression. It’s about as easy as eating glass.
Riley didn’t so much as flinch when I threw her door open. I scan her for injuries. Fresh red bruises color her wrist and forearm. One of those bastards put his hands on her. Hurt her.
I hate Cian for killing that fucker. Because now I can’t.
Cuts and scrapes pepper her hands as she twists them in her lap. I never knew I could feel so many things at once.
Rage. Relief. Numbness. I can’t even speak.
I want to lift her from Cian’s car, gather her into my arms, carry her upstairs, and fix her myself, but all I can do is kneel there in front of her, immobile. “Are you okay?”