Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Feeling his stare, I looked up at Ramsay.
He seemed … conflicted.
Until he washed away the expression with that cool disinterest he was so good at adopting. “I’ll make sure the journos don’t bother you.”
With that, he brushed past Taran and was gone.
Taran frowned, turning back to me. “What … is everything all right there?”
No.
Everything most certainly was not.
32. Ramsay
Akiva pressed her warm, furry body to my legs as we sat with Quinn at a corner table in the Lantern.
I rubbed a soothing hand down her back. My girl had missed me. More than that, she was smart, and she hadn’t seen Silver since the traumatic moment on the harbor. She was anxious and in need of comfort.
“Bottom-feeding scum,” Quinn muttered, glaring over my shoulder to the bar.
I knew there were a couple of journalists there having a drink.
“Not all.” I shrugged. “The woman who helped Silver … that kind of reporting matters.”
“Aye, but these guys are tabloid scum.” Quinn threw back the last of his pint. “They’re not welcome here. They shouldn’t have served them. If Aodhan was here, they wouldn’t have gotten served.”
“Ignore them.”
“You’re lucky they don’t know who you are.”
“Who am I?” I asked dully.
“Tierney’s … you know.”
As if she’d heard her name, my mobile buzzed, and I turned it over. The screen said Silver Calling.
I switched off my phone.
When I looked up from it, Quinn’s expression had turned … withering. This time it was directed at me. “What?” I snapped.
“I know your moves, McRae.” He gestured to my phone. “You’re going to end it with her, aren’t you?”
My chest felt like a fucking ton weight crushed down on it, but I didn’t deny it.
Shaking his head, Quinn let out a huff of disappointment. “After everything you did for that woman … everything you’ve risked. Make it make sense.”
It didn’t need to make sense.
All that mattered was Silver was safe.
But I couldn’t be what she needed going forth. She was noble like her parents.
I wasn’t noble.
I’d become the darkest part of myself to protect the world while they’d used the best of themselves to do the same.
If Silver knew the truth, she’d turn her back on me.
I’d known only loyalty to my country.
To people … well … I’d learned far too young that unless you wanted your spirit crushed beyond imagining, when it came to people, you had to leave them before they left you behind.
33. Tierney
Despite the lack of rain, the island still smelled like it. It had rained every day since my return for the past ten. Today was the first morning I’d woken up to dry skies, though the sun was trapped behind a cavalcade of pale gray clouds. I missed waking up to a view of the harbor, which made me realize how much I’d miss it once I moved into the B and B. The harbor-view rooms were, of course, for the guests.
Taran always left super early to open the coffee shop. She’d been reluctant to leave me at first, but to both of our surprise, Ramsay had shown up the first few days to make sure I was all right. He wasn’t warm or tender about it. But he was there. He’d also brought private security to keep the tabloid journalists off the property.
For once, I didn’t push him to explain how. Or what was going on between us.
I let it go for ten days and allowed myself time to heal instead.
Too afraid to look online at what the rest of the world had to say about the story, Cammie informed me the commentary was positive toward my family. The B and B’s social media profiles had gained a ton of new followers from the notoriety and Cammie took over going through all the messages of support and sympathy that had flooded my DMs.
The Silver Group had fired Halston Cole, but they weren’t innocent in this. When the Chronicle informed them of the story, they should have fired him then, but they wanted to protect the company name more than seek justice. As it was, apparently the resort in question had been inundated with cancellations, and human rights protestors from all over had descended upon it.
Halston had not only been charged with my attempted murder but with the murder of my parents and Ben. The charges of manslaughter were separate and being brought by Rahman’s family against the security guard who killed him. Halston would be directly charged with subverting the course of justice once the case of manslaughter was proven. Rahman’s family was also suing the Silver Group for covering up Rahman’s death.
The Chronicle had started a crowdsourcing fund for their legal fees when I’d offered to pay them. Perri had reminded me I didn’t have an unending well of wealth now, and I had my own legal fees to cover so she’d initiated the funding page for Rahman’s family.