“But Ronan turned on you?”

  Declan nods. “He killed Brynn right in front of me. Right in front of Aisling. He was going to kill me too, but somehow, by the grace of God, I got out.”

  I evaluate all of this, and although it’s a farfetched tale, it’s also a believable one. I wouldn't put it past Ronan for one second. There is so much evil lurking behind those muddy brown eyes.

  “If he wanted the whole family dead, why does he want Aisling alive?”

  “Who the fuck knows? To get back at me. To replace Brynn. To ruin her life and raise her as another political pawn in his sick, twisted game of thrones.”

  That explanation doesn’t sit well with me at all. I may do a lot of heinous things, but even I have hard limits. And having control of your own life falls under that umbrella. You can say it’s a sensitive subject for me. Women not being able to carve their own path or follow their own destiny.

  I don’t share my thoughts with Declan, though. I just remain as impassive as possible, not wanting to give any inkling of my thoughts away.

  “There is one thing I am sure of.” Declan sways a little bit, clearly intoxicated. “I will fucking kill anyone who tries to take her away from me.” He lies down on the floor, piercing me with one green-eyed laser beam, sending a clear message.

  “Dax.” I nudge him with my foot. He doesn't move. “Declan.” I kick him. Nothing. Just a snarl-like snore. You have got to be shitting me. He passed the fuck out.

  This whole fucking job has gone to hell in a handbasket. And if I don’t check in with March soon, I don’t know who the next person walking through that door will be. We didn’t make any contingency plans. I assured him the target was going to be taken out. And as far as I was concerned, it was the God’s honest truth. Even as I drew my gun and squeezed the trigger. I always believed I could execute my mission. But sitting here tied up is making me look like a big, fat liar. The question is, why didn’t Declan kill me when he had the chance?

  I see no favorable outcome for any of us.

  Footsteps place me on high alert. I struggle in the ropes, but Declan is like a goddamn Boy Scout, and has me tied up way too tight.

  She approaches me slowly in bare feet, clutching onto a ratty, stuffed bunny that looks as if it could have been Declan’s from his childhood.

  I get my first good look at her. She’s a tiny little thing with dark, wavy hair and green eyes just like her daddy. But her facial features are sweet and feminine. There’s something about her. Something perceptive. She regards me in a shrewd way. Way beyond her young years.

  She looks down at Declan sleeping on the floor and then back up to me. Her little eyebrows furrowed.

  “Yeah, kid, the feeling is mutual.”

  How the fuck did we all end up here?

  Aisling yawns then. The drowsiness still evident on her cute little face.

  “You should go back to bed,” I whisper.

  She puts her thumb in her mouth but doesn’t make a move.

  “Go on, little one. Go back to bed,” I urge again. But instead of her turning around and going back to what I presume is the bedroom, she climbs into my lap.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I tense up, the question obviously rhetorical.

  She answers by curling up and making herself comfortable.

  My initial reaction is to treat her like a poisonous snake. Get off, get off, get off. But I eventually have to calm down when I realize she isn’t going anywhere, and neither am I.

  Aisling falls fast asleep in my lap.

  Isn’t this some fucking shit? I have never portrayed myself as the kid-friendly type. So I don’t know why this one has taken a liking to me.

  Hell, I didn’t even like Farrah all that much when she was a child, and she’s my sister. I’m perfectly happy with my maternal instincts lying dormant.

  I stare out the window at the night sky as both Aisling and Declan breathe deeply, entranced in slumber. I doubt sleep will come for me tonight. There’s too much worry circling around my head. Hope for the best but expect the worst pretty much describes this situation. It pretty much describes my life.

  I start to struggle with false hope of loosening the ropes. Aisling doesn't seem to be bothered one bit by my fidgeting. I can’t recall a time in my life that I could sleep that soundly. Not even as a child.

  I resist the urge to look down at her. Instead, I glare at Declan, making a mental list of all the ways I’m going to kill him once I get out of this fucking mess.

  Ugh!

  4

  Declan

  I open my eyes to find Aisling’s face a few feet away from mine. The latter part of last night is fuzzy, but my stiff body and swollen lip are a clear reminder of what happened early on. I push myself up to a sitting position, my head spinning a bit. My best friend, James, was a stellar wingman last night.

  Raking my hands over my stubbly face, I take in the scene in front of me. Aisling passed out on Fallon's lap while she’s tied to an exposed beam. It’s as endearing as it is comical.

  A bitter resentment washes over me seeing Aisling so comfortable in another woman’s arms. She’ll never know her mother. She’ll never know how kind and loving she was. Or how much she loved her. I swallow back the lump of emotion trying to escape from my throat. Sometimes I wish I could just spit it out like a ball of phlegm. Be rid of it for good, and never suffer through the pain again.

  I suffer every single day. Every morning I wake up, look into Aisling’s eyes, and relive Brynn’s death all over again.

  The memory of her murder will haunt me forever, and undoubtedly follow me into the grave.

  I failed my daughter.

  I wanted to give her everything, and instead, I ruined it all.

  I stare at Fallon sleeping soundly. I watched her sleep all night once. No other woman besides Brynn had ever captivated me that way. But Fallon, she was like a bolt of lightning that struck me out of nowhere. I wasn’t prepared for her, but damn, did I become addicted to the spark of electricity fast.

  I knew I should have let her leave when she tried to sneak away. I should have just pretended to be asleep, but as soon as the warmth of her body was stripped away, I couldn’t let her go. Consequences be damned.

  Seems I’m a creature of habit. I want all the women I can’t have. Forbidden fruit is just too tempting, I guess.

  And now here we are again.

  I should be pissed she tried to kill me, but I’m not. I knew he’d send her. She’s the best at what she does, and some warped part of me couldn’t wait to see her again.

  I scoot closer to Fallon, careful not to disturb Aisling. Usually, a floating leaf could wake her up. The child does not sleep for shit, in turn making Daddy an alcoholic.

  The past months have not been easy. I was Aisling's father from afar. I never changed her, or fed, or really interacted with her, and then suddenly I was all she had. I was the one responsible for keeping her safe and alive. It’s been a test every single day. Every day I learn something new about her, and myself. Parenthood is the pits sometimes, but I wouldn’t trade one moment of hell for all the precious moments in heaven.

  Bringing my face closer to Fallon’s, I become reacquainted with all her unique little features. The few dots of freckles on her perfectly straight nose, the unique copper color of her hair, her long, strawberry-blonde eyelashes, and the little scar that’s above her eyebrow.

  Then I lean in, knowing full well what to expect when she wakes, but I don’t care. I’m not trying to be a scumbag or a perv. I just know my chances in life are limited, so I’m going to take advantage of every opportunity. It’s an I’m-sorry kiss. An I'm-still-in-love-with-you kiss. A goodbye kiss.

  I touch my lips to hers, and they’re as sweet as I remember. There’s no initial reaction, so I press a little harder, and she startles awake.

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “What does it look like? Giving you a good morning kiss.” Before she can respond, I full-blown kiss her. Clutching her face with one hand and smothering her mouth with mine. It’s like a shot of oxygen straight to my brain. The connection enlivening. Fallon isn’t too keen on the idea at first, but she ultimately relents, kissing me back with the power she once had before. If this were a social experiment, I’d say it was a successful one. She may be here to kill me, but there’s no denying the chemistry between us is still there.

  After a moment of hot and heavy breathing and combating tongues, Fallon breaks our connection by ripping her face away. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

  “It’s gone completely.”

  “Evidently. Do that again and I’ll bite off your tongue,” she threatens, and it does nothing but turn me on.

  “No, you won’t. You may want to, but you won’t.” I’m smug. “After that kiss? There’s no way you would sever my tongue.”

  “Try me.”

  “Just dying for me to kiss you again, aye?”

  “I’m dying for you to get close enough for me to kill you.”

  “Big words for a little girl who’s all tied up.”

  Fallon’s eyes flash with malice. “Untie me and I’ll show you what this little girl can do.”

  “Oh, I know what you can do. With your clothes on and without.”

  “Spare me,” Fallon grunts. “If you’re going to kill me, do it already, and put me out of my misery.”

  “You know if I was going to kill you, I would have done it last night.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Probably for the same reason you couldn’t kill me.”

  “My gun jammed. That’s the only reason.”

  “I call bullshit. You hesitated. And then you made a friend.” I look down at a sleeping Aisling.

  “I don’t make friends.” She turns her head.

  “I’ll give you that one. Friends are hard to come by in your line of work.”

  “Why are you wasting time bullshitting with me? You should be packing your stuff and running the hell outta here.”

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were worried about us.”

  “Maybe about her. She’s innocent. You’re an idiot.”

  “Oh, such harsh words for a pretty mouth.”

  “Declan, I’m serious. I’ve been here all night. I haven’t checked in. Someone is going to come poking around. Do you really want to be here when they do?”

  She has a point.

  “No. And I don’t plan on staying here much longer. I have contingencies in place. There was always a possibility of Ronan finding us.”

  “Well, I hope your contingencies don’t include some guy named Frenchie, ’cause he’s dead.”

  That news causes me to pause. Fuck. “Ronan got to him?”

  “Him and a whole bunch of other people. He shook down every contact you had.”

  “Is that how you found me? Frenchie?”

  “No, one of the places you buy your burner phones. We started tracking the serial numbers after we got a tip. We researched all the orders and numbers made by the phones, found patterns, and then found you. Tip for the future, don’t use the same liquor store over and over. And change up your order.”

  I smirk. “A pint of black stuff with an Irish Catholic chaser.”

  “Bingo.”

  “Your insider info got me caught.”

  “It’s going to get you dead, too, if you don’t get the fuck out of here.”

  “Come with me.” The words just fly right out of my mouth.

  “Are you crazy? How would that work?”

  “You help me get Aisling out of the country. You said it yourself. Ronan got to all my contacts. I bet that means the plane that was supposed to get us out of here is compromised, too.”

  Her face goes blank, and the expression tells me everything I need to know. I’m fucked. “Fallon, I can’t do this alone. I need you.”

  She shakes her head, like hell no. “My help? Declan, you do know what I do for a living? I don’t help people. I kill them.”

  “Exactly. You’re exactly whom I need to keep Aisling safe. Look, she’s already taken a shining to you. That’s saying something.”

  “It says she’s two and has no clue about stranger danger.”

  “Don’t underestimate my little one. She’s sharp.”

  “Crafty like her daddy?”

  “And sweet as pie like her mommy.” Fallon looks down at Aisling still sleeping on her lap. I mean, how can you refuse an angelic little face like that? “Doesn’t she deserve a chance to live her best life?” I lay it on thick. Fallon once told me children and animals were her hard limit. I’m banking on that now.

  Fallon flicks her green eyes back up at me. Thank God they’re not real daggers, ’cause she would have sliced my nose clean off.

  “And what happens once we get her out of the country? We become fugitives? Ronan will never stop looking for us. It’s a suicide mission. And I don’t think I like you enough to put my entire livelihood on the line.”

  “You won’t have to. ’Cause we will come back and take care of Ronan. That’s always been the plan. He wanted his whole family dead, and I’m going to finish what he started.”

  This seems to intrigue Fallon. I don’t know what her personal relationship is like nowadays with Ronan, but I know he always boasted she would be the lucky one who gets his last name. But something always told me the feeling wasn’t mutual. Most women throw themselves at Ronan, and if he even whispered the word marriage, there would be a line out the door. But Fallon, she never seemed to be part of that harem. Not the two years before I met her, or the two years after. If my mother taught me anything, it's that women always know what they want. And I have a sneaking suspicion Fallon doesn't want a damn thing to do with Ronan.

  “It’s crazy, Declan. He’s too connected. We’ll never pull it off,” she objects.

  “Yes, we will. ’Cause we know things no one else does. We know his in-betweens. And that’s what will be his downfall.”

  I can see Fallon contemplating my rationale. My plan can work, and with her by my side, it’ll be nearly foolproof.

  She looks down at Aisling once more. This time longer and harder. “This is our one shot for us all to be free,” I appeal.

  Fallon sweeps her eyes up to mine. “I’ll never be free.”

  It’s one of the most honest admissions I have ever heard in my life.

  “So, you won’t help me?”

  “No . . .” She stares straight ahead callously, and my stomach drops. “But I’ll help her.”

  A sense of relief surges through me. She had me going for a second.

  “I’ll take it. Everything I do now is for her anyway.”

  “Untie me,” Fallon orders. She’s ready to get things going apparently.

  I don’t move initially, hoping I didn’t just make a deal with the wrong devil. But I have nothing left, and no one left to help me. She’s my Hail Mary. Getting to my feet, I head into the kitchen and grab a serrated knife. Crouching next to her again, I twist the blade right in front of her. “If you double-cross me,”—I touch the tip to her jugular vein—“I’ll kill you.”

  “Don’t give me a reason to double-cross you, and the only person you’ll have to worry about killing is Ronan.” She doesn’t even look remotely threatened by me. Even tied up with a knife to her throat.

  That fearlessness is what drew me to her in the first place, and what draws me to her now. I cut her free, and Aisling wakes up. She lets out a little cry, and I drop the knife and pick her up. “Daddy’s right here.”

  “Cuddles later.” Fallon gets to her feet and stretches her tight muscles. “We need to get the fuck out of here, now.”

  She reaches into her back pocket, and I spook, grabbing her arm.

  “What the fuck is your problem?” She pushes me, pulling out a tiny earpiece.

  I suddenly realize we are going to have some trust issues to work through.

  “Sorry, I just didn’t know what you were reaching for.”

  “If I’m going to kill you, I’ll make sure it’s in your sleep.” She slips the piece in her ear.

  “Good luck with that. I’ve pretty much traded sleep for fatherhood.”

  “You slept pretty soundly last night.” She taps the mechanism.

  “My good friend Jameson helped with that.”

  “Yeah, that’s definitely one thing that’s going to change. No more drinking.”

  “Acting like my damn wife already?”

  “Keep dreaming, Paddy . . . no, not you.” She touches her ear. “Get your shit together.” She hisses. “No, March, not you . . . yes, I’m fine. No.” Fallon looks at me. “There’s been a change of plans.” I eavesdrop on her conversation. “No, dear God, this is no time for your perverted sarcasm. I need the fastest route out of the city. One that’ll keep us off main roads. We need a safe house, too, money, and new identities. Three of them. We need to get out of the country . . . yes, I know. Yes, I’ll explain everything when I know we’re in the clear . . .” Fallon shoots me a dirty look. “Why the fuck are you just standing there? Get what you need, and let’s go!”

  “All right, all right.” I head into the bedroom where I have most of Aisling’s things. “First things first, you need a change. I can feel how soppy that diaper is.” I lie her down on the bed and do a quick switch. Three months of this, and I’m nearly an expert. She doesn’t make it easy, though, squirming around like a slippery little fish. “Think you’re gonna get away from me that easily, aye?” I tickle her tummy, and she giggles. “Not a chance.” I pull off her nightgown and throw it on the floor. I set her on her feet and rummage through the trash bag of her clean clothes. A T-shirt with a unicorn and a pair of black stretchies does the trick. “We need to get our butts moving, munchkin. Or else the copperhead killer will come and get us.” I play with her as I look for a pair of matching socks.