Olivia woke to the sun on her face. She stretched and sighed, feeling better rested than she had in weeks. She sat up and rubbed a hand over her face. Hadley must have been more tired than I thought if she’s still sleeping. She glanced over Cillian to the clock on the nightstand. “Ten?”
No way.
A frisson of fear iced its way down her spine, but she did her damnedest to ignore it as she climbed out of bed. It had been a crazy few days. It was absolutely logical that Hadley would be overtired and just had one of those random days that rarely came around and slept in. She’d thrown a horrible tantrum yesterday, after all, and she only did that when she was exhausted beyond all reason.
Olivia threw on a sweatshirt over her tank top and padded down the hallway to the room her daughter slept in. She pushed open the door. At first, relief nearly sent her to her knees. There Hadley was, all cuddled up under her blanket like she preferred to sleep. Way to overreact, idiot. She almost turned around and let her daughter keep sleeping, but something made her walk over and look into the portable crib. She tugged down the blanket, frowned, and tugged it down further.
It took entirely too long for her tired mind to understand what she was seeing.
A pillow.
She picked the pillow up, half-sure that somehow she’d missed something and Hadley had snuggled down beneath it, but there was nothing below it except more blankets. Frantic now, Olivia stood and tore the blankets off the bed itself, as if her daughter had somehow climbed out of the crib and fallen asleep somewhere else. She has to be here, she has to be.
Nothing.
“Hadley?” She just escaped her crib. She’s done it before. She’s in the house. I just have to find her. “Hadley! Come out, baby girl, you’re scaring Mama.” She nearly ran over Cillian as she rushed out into the hallway. “I can’t find Hadley.”
He didn’t waste time with cold comfort or telling her that she must be mistaken. He just nodded. “We’ll find her.”
They tore the house apart looking for her, every second that passed solidifying the horrific truth in Olivia’s mind. Hadley is gone. My baby girl is gone. She opened the front door.
And screamed.
Instantly, Cillian was by her side. He pulled her against him, burying her face in his chest. “Don’t look, sweetheart.”
But it was too late. She already had the image of the dead man imprinted on the back of her eyelids. So much blood. The panic she’d been mostly able to hold at bay rose up and punched her in the face. Someone killed our guard, and my daughter is gone. “Hadley—”
He led her into the living room and guided her down onto the couch. “Listen to me, Olivia. Are you listening?”
It was harder than it should have been to focus on his face. “I’m listening.”
“I need to check on the other men.”
He thinks he’s going to find more bodies. “But—”
“I’m not leaving you here alone.” He squeezed her hands, his touch gentle despite the command in his voice. Though part of her wanted to argue that she wasn’t helpless, the rest was trying to come to terms with the fact that her daughter was gone. Someone had come in here, killed at least one person, and taken Hadley.
Fear and panic crystalized inside her, morphing into rage between one breath and the next. They took my baby girl. I’m going to kill them. “It was Dmitri.”
Cillian’s expression didn’t change. “Get what you need. We won’t be returning.”
“Okay.”
She followed him upstairs, eerie calm settling around her. Dmitri might have threatened to do just this, but a naive part of her had assumed that he wouldn’t follow through on it. Not like this. Not without warning. Not in the middle of the night and killing at least one person along the way. She changed into a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and her boots, conscious of Cillian standing between her and the doorway, his dark eyes narrowed as if he expected an attack at any moment. She could have told him it was no use, that Hadley was gone, but she’d obviously been wrong about the lengths Sergei and Dmitri would go to before, so she might be wrong about this, too. Olivia repacked her bag, her hands lingering over Hadley’s clothes. I’m getting you back, baby girl. Just hang in there. Mama’s coming.
“You got everything?”
She looked around the room, part of her hoping that this was all a mistake and that her daughter would appear with an infectious giggle. But it wasn’t a mistake, and she didn’t appear. Olivia stood on shaking legs and forced herself to nod. “Yes.”
She must have been more out of it than she realized, because Cillian had managed to dress in one of his suits and pack his own bag while she was working on hers. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her so tightly, it was as if he was afraid she’d break apart into a million pieces. “We will get her back.”
“Cillian—”
“We will get her back, Olivia.” He pressed a kiss to her temple and stepped back. “Stay close.”
He didn’t take her hand, and she belatedly realized it was so he could be free to draw the gun she could see in the shoulder holster. The similarities between Cillian and Dmitri were never more pronounced than in that moment with that deadly glint in his eyes. This was not the man who made love to her last night and told her he had no intention of letting her go. This was Cillian O’Malley, a man who’d seen unfathomable loss in his life, a man deadly in his own right.
There must have been something on her face, because he stopped on the stairs. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.” There was no hesitation. He might look like a near-stranger right now, but this was still the man who she’d spent the last few weeks getting to know. He might be an O’Malley, but that wasn’t all he was. She just had to remember that.
Cillian nodded. “Then let’s go.”
She followed him out the back door. He hesitated, almost like he wanted to tell her to stay in the house, but then gave himself a shake and started for the tree line. She kept close, all too aware of how exposed they were out here. Yes, he kept his body between her and potential danger, but that wasn’t a guarantee of shit.
They found the second body propped up against a large tree just inside the forest. She made herself look at the wounds, made herself memorize the face of the man who’d died while on protection detail for her. She was so focused on his face, it took her several seconds to understand the wound pattern. “Knife?” Sergei. That bastard always had liked his blades—at least when it wasn’t efficient to use his hands.
“It looks that way.” He stood and took a step back. “I’m going to have to move the bodies, but we need to check on the others first.” He waited for her to nod before he started moving again.
They found the next man alive. Cillian went to his knees next to him. “Mark.”
“Fucked up.” The man held both his hands to his stomach. “The blond Russian bastard caught me off guard.”
There was no way she could pretend Sergei wasn’t involved. Her stomach lurched, and for one second she thought she might lose it completely. “I’m sorry.”
“My mistake. My fault.”
But he wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her.
Cillian looked at her. “Can you get him to the barn? I need to check on the last two men.”
She nodded, and they ignored Mark’s protests that he would be fine while she levered him off the ground and wedged herself beneath his arm. He didn’t seem to be actively bleeding, which was a relief. She already had the deaths of at least two men on her head. The trip to the barn seemed to take forever, each step accompanied by Mark’s wheezing breath. She started to say something half a dozen times, but what could she say that wouldn’t be spitting in his face? “I’m sorry.”
She pushed the door open to the barn and helped him hobble over to a bench shoved up against the wall next to the empty stables. Mark let out a pained sigh. “Like I said—not your fault.”
“Do you want me to check that?”
He shook his head. “If it hit something vital, I’d be dead by now.”
That was a good point. She looked around for a phone. “We should call 911.”
“Olivia.” The shock of hearing him rasp her name stopped her cold, and she turned to face him. Mark leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. “Let Cillian handle it.”
Cillian slipped through the door, supporting another man. This one was a ghastly shade of white and looked about ready to pass out. Olivia helped him to the bench next to Mark. “You have to call someone.”
“Doc Jones has a colleague in the area. She’s on her way, but the guy she vouches for will be here in fifteen.” He crouched in front of Mark. “Can you hold on for a little longer? The other three…They’re gone. I’m sorry. I have to see to the bodies.”
Mark nodded. Cillian took Olivia’s hand. “Come on.” He waited until they were halfway across the yard to say, “We’re going back to Boston.”
“Dmitri.” He would be there in a few hours, and he was the one who held the answers. She rested her hand on her purse, the comforting bulge of the pistol there. Every heartbeat was a reminder, each second ticking by another where her daughter might be wondering where she was, might be scared and confused. Hadley, Hadley, Hadley. She’d find her. She had to.
Cillian nodded. “He has a lot to answer for. Hadley’s your daughter, just a little girl. She didn’t ask for any of this.” He stalked out onto the driveway. “And those were my men. The only reason they’re here at all is because I asked them to be.”
Three more deaths for him to shoulder. There wasn’t a damn thing she could say to that, either. They might have known the risk when they signed on to work for the O’Malleys, but no one had expected Sergei. Those deaths are as much my fault as they are his. She followed him to the car. “We both asked them.”
“This isn’t your fault, sweetheart.” He shook his head. “Give me a minute.”
She watched as he combed the car, searching the front, back, trunk, and undercarriage. He even spent some time on the engine. Checking for bombs. Olivia shuddered. As much as she didn’t like to contemplate death, if Sergei wanted her dead, he had plenty of opportunity while she slept. So she wasn’t surprised when Cillian gave the all clear. “He didn’t even slit the tires.”
“He wants me to follow.” He’d get his wish. There wasn’t another option. She just hoped and prayed to any god who was listening that he managed to take care of Hadley in the meantime. She was only a baby. She needed diapers and cut-up food and…Stop. You’re going to start panicking again, and that won’t help Hadley or you.
Cillian took the bag from her. “We’ll get her back.”
“I know.” There was no other option.
“Stay here. I’ll be back in a few.”
The dead men. She climbed into the car and did her best not to think too hard about everything that could go wrong as he disappeared around the side of the house. Part of her chafed at the delay, but those men had given their lives trying to protect her and Hadley. The very least they deserved was to be kept safe until someone could be sent to deal with them properly.
A car passed hers and drove straight to the barn. She watched Cillian appear to talk to a man who couldn’t have been more than twenty-one. They hurried into the barn and shut the door behind them. She wasn’t sure how much time passed before he reappeared. It could have been five minutes or five hours with how her growing panic distorted everything.
Cillian walked out of the barn, his expression bleak. It took him mere seconds to cross to the car and slide into the driver’s seat. “Mark and Rodger will live.”
A small comfort. Part of her wanted to reach out to him, but she couldn’t afford to have her calm shattered, and Cillian’s touch would definitely do that. So she stared straight ahead and clutched her purse. “We need to be at that meeting today.” The only way she’d get to Dmitri was if he wasn’t expecting her, and he sure as hell wouldn’t think that she’d show up to something with the O’Malleys.
“I know.” He entered the freeway and picked up speed. “We’ll make it.”
She put her phone back together, trying not to notice how her hands shook. If Sergei was waiting for a call, she’d damn well give it to him. She scrolled through her old numbers and called him. The line rang and rang and rang, finally clicking over to an answering service. Damn it. She dialed Dmitri next, with the same results. Wherever they were right now, they wanted her hurting and worrying and generally driving herself insane. That would do plenty of damage and they wouldn’t have to lay a finger on Hadley. She hoped.
That didn’t stop her from trying to call both men repeatedly as they crossed state lines back into Massachusetts. Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. It was enough to have a scream fighting to make its way into the world. A scream and horrible accusations.
You promised we’d be safe. You promised you’d keep them from us. You promised this wouldn’t happen.
If I hadn’t been so determined to sex him up, I would have run and taken Hadley with me. It wasn’t a perfect plan, but they wouldn’t have caught up to me so quickly. I let my personal desires get in the way of my daughter’s safety.
I am the worst mother ever.
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop.”
She didn’t look at him, her gaze on the highway, as if she could will them over the distance faster if she just concentrated enough. “It’s my fault.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“It is. If I’d just fallen in line, he never would have taken this step.” She’d effectively chosen Cillian over her own daughter. Just like her mother had chosen Andrei over Olivia over and over and over again from the time she was born. The one thing she’d promised herself she’d never do—the lowest bar she could have possibly set for herself—and the first man who gave her a bit of attention had her throwing all those good intentions right out the window.
Now Hadley was suffering for her choices, just like Olivia had suffered as a result of her mother’s.
“You got out. That’s not something most people in our life can say.”
“If I’d actually gotten out, this wouldn’t be happening right now. I should have run as soon as I realized he wasn’t going to leave me alone.” Weeks wasted. It made her sick to her stomach.
“Olivia, look at me.” His voice was so harsh, she instinctively obeyed. The expression on his face was even harsher than his tone. “We don’t have time for the pity party you’re indulging in right now.”
She tensed. “You don’t get to tell me how to feel. That monster has my daughter.”
“And you’re so wrapped up in blaming yourself that you’re going to play right into his hands.” His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “The past is the past. You can’t go back and change it. You can only move forward and ensure that the mistakes you made don’t define you.”
“Pretty to think so.”
“No, it’s not. It’s fucking hard. You think I’m not tearing myself up over the deaths of those men? They are my fault. You said that Romanov might know where we were, and I ignored the potential threat. That’s on me.” He wound through slower traffic, the speedometer approaching triple digits. “I’m going to have to be the one to tell their families that I was too goddamn cocky, and they died as a result.”
Just like his brother had. Her chest tightened, but she couldn’t afford sympathy. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Instead, she focused on what she’d do once they reached their destination. It seemed to take forever and no time at all to get back to Boston. Cillian drove them straight to Beacon Hill, stopping in front of a town house that looked like every other town house on that street—massive and expensive. The trees lining the sidewalk barely did anything to soften the look. She got out of the car and stared at the wide door that would be at home in some lord’s castle halfway across the world.
“Let me do the talking.”
She nodded, though she had her own plan. Olivia slipped her purse over the crook of her arm and walked with him up the stairs and into the town house. The interior was just as intimidating as the exterior—possibly more so. From the home in Connecticut, she’d gotten the feeling of a building well loved by the family that lived there. Here, everything was stark and expensive and uncomfortable, as if it had been designed to remind visitors just who they were dealing with.
As if she could forget.
He led her into a study filled with people. She recognized Cillian’s sister, Carrigan, and her…whatever he was. They weren’t married, but calling James Halloran her boyfriend seemed juvenile. Next to them was another O’Malley—judging by his dark coloring—and a blond woman. From the possessive way he stood behind the chair where she sat, as if ready to spring into motion at the slightest moment to protect her, she’d guess this was Teague and the Sheridan heir. Then there were the two men standing on the other side of the desk, as if trying to put as much distance between themselves and the rest of the room as possible. The younger man was nearly a carbon copy of the older—Cillian’s older brother and father.
Neither of which looked happy to see them.
His father glared. “Aiden specifically told you to stay the hell out of Boston while we cleaned up this mess.”
“The circumstances have changed.” Cillian shrugged, and if she wasn’t a step behind him, she wouldn’t have noticed how tense his back was. “I need to have a word with Dmitri.”
“Convenient that I’m here then, isn’t it?”
Olivia moved before she had fully processed the silky Russian voice. She grabbed her gun from her purse and spun, shoving him against the wall and the gun against the hollow of his throat. The only reaction she got was a slight widening of his eyes. “Little sister.”
“Half sister.” The response was automatic, and she pushed the gun harder against his skin. “Where is she?”
“Where is who?”
She was vaguely aware of raised voices behind her, but she trusted Cillian to keep them off her while she got answers. You think you would have learned after last night. Apparently not. Pushing the thought away, she focused on Dmitri. “Don’t play games with me, you bastard. Where is Hadley?”
Confusion played across his face, but she’d seen him use the tiniest expression to manipulate people around him. She wasn’t going to fall for that shit. She moved in closer, the gun growing warm in her palm. “You ordered Sergei to take my daughter, and you’re going to order him to bring her back to me, or I’m going to blow your fucking head off.”
“What are you talking about, Olivia?” His accent thickened, and he switched to Russian. “I don’t have your daughter.”
“Stop lying!” She wasn’t sure if she was speaking English or if she’d made the switch along with him, because all she could see was the growing anger on his face. “You threatened me, and when I didn’t do what you wanted, you followed through on it. Stop playing games.”
“I never—”
“I swear to God, if you say you never threatened me, I will do something unforgivable.” Her breath was coming faster now, but she couldn’t dial it back in. “We both know what your intent was even if your words weren’t exactly that. Where. Is. She?”
“I. Don’t. Know.” He glared. “I didn’t order this. If it was Sergei, it was done without my knowledge.”
“Liar.” She jerked back to hit him with the gun, but then arms were around her stomach, hauling her off him. Olivia screamed and fought, but they were iron bands holding her in place while someone else took her gun.
“Sweetheart, stop.” Cillian’s voice in her ear, angry but a thousand times calmer than she felt. “We’ll get answers, but if you kill him, we aren’t getting shit.”
“He’s not going to tell you the truth.” She lunged for Dmitri, more animal than human, but Cillian jerked her back again.
Then Seamus O’Malley was between them, managing to look down his nose at everyone in the room. “If you can’t control yourself, I’ll have you locked in a room until this is over. Decide.”
That got through to her. No one cared as much about Hadley as she did. It wouldn’t be personal to them. Even if they decided to help her, it would just be a job. She couldn’t afford to be shut out. So she let Cillian guide her to the other side of the couches—though she never took her gaze off Dmitri. I’ll kill him if anything happens to Hadley. Him and Sergei and anyone who gets in my way.
Seamus sent her a disgusted look, as if he could read her thoughts, and turned back to her half brother. “Explain yourself.”
“I don’t have to explain anything to you.” He’d taken the few seconds everyone was focused on her to straighten his suit, his calm mask firmly in place once more. “This is family business. I’m sure you understand.”
“I’m equally sure that you’ve been dicking around with us for months, Russian. The girl might be your sister, but she’s in our territory with my son. That makes it my business.”
“As I told my sister, I know nothing about that.” He looked directly at her. “You know how I work, Olivia. You know what I’m saying is true. If I was going to take her, it wouldn’t have been like this.”
She didn’t want to agree with him. In fact, all she wanted was to get out of Cillian’s arms so she could go over there and follow through on hitting him with the damn gun. But…he was right. She stopped struggling. If he didn’t order Hadley taken…Oh my God. “Sergei is off the rails.”
“It would seem that way.” He gave a shrug that meant nothing at all. “I do apologize, Seamus, but one of my men has decided to take matters into his own hands—without my knowledge, of course. There’s little I can do.”
Cillian hugged Olivia tighter. “Where is he?”
“How should I know? I’m not the man’s keeper.” That one moment where Dmitri might have been a real human being was dead and gone. He adjusted his cuff links. “If that’s all…”
“It’s not.” Seamus glanced around the room, his brows slamming down. “Everyone out except the Russian. We have other business to attend to.”