Page 20

20

IRISH STEW

RORY

S unlight streaming in from the wall of windows rips me out of a dreamless sleep.

I go from barely awake to full panic mode when I catch the corner of the white blanket covering me in my field of vision.In an uncoordinated frenzy, I scramble up, forcefully shoving the blanket off, as if it bit me.

I stare at the pooled white knit, now a few feet away. Did I grab it in my sleep? I try to remember…

The sight of the tray of food throws all thoughts about the blanket out the window. I crawl to the tray as my stomach—who’d long since given up on hunger cues—growls menacingly. I’m just about to reach for the wrapped sandwich when an unwelcome thought pops into my head and my hand freezes.

I stare down at the food. The chips and bottles of water are still sealed shut, leaving the sandwich and apple as the most suspicious items on the tray.

Or is that what they’d like me to think?

A thin enough needle could pierce through packaging, and I’d never be able to tell.

Would they drug me?

My ravenous hunger and thirst ultimately win out over my concerns. They might have drugged the food, but not eating it won’t save me. If they wanted to, they could hold me down and force a needle into my neck.

So, bottoms up, I guess…

I practically inhale the sandwich and chips. Polishing off two bottles of water. I grab the apple and stash it into one of the empty drawers for later. Who knows when the next time they’ll feed me will be?

That done, I look around the room, unsure what to do with myself. I listen at the door for any sounds, but all I get is silence. Either the hall door and walls are soundproof, or there’s nothing happening. The garden below the window is empty.

Feeling grimy, I head into the bathroom, eyeing the shower. A hot shower would feel so good right now. My body aches from sleeping on the floor. A second search of the bathroom turns up nothing but a little hand towel by the sink.

The thought of being naked and exposed if Aidan waltzes back in here mid-shower has me out of the bathroom faster than you can say soap.

Back in the room, I avoid the bed, circling back toward the wall of windows. As if ignoring the bed could help me avoid my fate if I were to provoke a certain male…

The words Aidan said to Jimmy back in the office haunt my thoughts. How his eyes scanned my body, the flash of desire, his hand around my throat.

I tuck myself onto the sill of the window, making myself as small as possible. All the locks are sealed shut— I checked. Leaning my head back against the wall, I watch a little sparrow work diligently on her nest in the tree outside for a while.

I must fall asleep because when I startle awake again, the sun is gone. Instead, a gray drizzle soaks the little courtyard garden, the cobblestones slick with rain.

There’s movement by the door. The knob twists, and the sound of a key in the lock has my blood growing cold. Time to face the music . I haven’t seen Aidan since the hockey skate incident. Somehow, the anticipation of his return is worse.My fear of him has only grown as the hours have ticked by.

He must have left the food, or sent someone with it. The thought that someone was in here while I was asleep gives me chills. But the food also means they still want me alive. It would be a shame if his little prisoner died before he willed it.

I’ve worked out Aidan has a problem with killing an innocent.The problem is that he’s almost certain that I’m no innocent.

If I’m going to survive the day, I need to do everything I can to convince Aidan I have nothing to do with the Russian Bratva, The Irish Mob nor Adrik Kostalov.That I’m just Rory Collins from Vancouver, a figure skater and nothing more.

The door swings open.

Aidan’s huge frame fills the opening, as he leans against the door with his arms crossed. A thick white bandage is wrapped around his forearm. Guilt and satisfaction war within my mind.

I don’t move from where I’m perched on the window’s ledge.

“Good Afternoon.”

I blink at him. Good Afternoon? I stay silent, staring. Bracing for him to either shoot me or drag me off to his torture chamber. Anything really. He’s impossible to read.I have no idea what to expect from him.

“So Liam’s cooked up a proper Irish stew, we thought—we thought maybe you’d like to join us?” He rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably.

Thank God the window is at my back because I would’ve fallen over at how hard I jerk back in shock. “Join you?” I get out.

Aidan’s chin dips slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “Yep.” He puts extra emphasis on the “ p .”

I narrow my eyes. “I must be missing something. What’s the catch?”

He shrugs, so nonchalantly I want to slap him. “No catch. Just maybe a change in tactics,”he openly admits.

I consider refusing, but I’m already a little stir crazy from being trapped in this room all day. The scent of what must be the Irish stew has permeated through the open door, forcing another growl from my now empty stomach.

Hopping down from the windowsill, I mimic his shrug. “Yeah, sure, why not?”

It takes another half-second for him to react, caught off guard by my response. “Great. Let’s go.” He gestures out into the hall, distrust in his eyes. He’d thought it would have taken more convincing.

I force myself to walk willingly within his reach, relieved when he leads the way instead of walking behind me. I curl the ends of my sweatshirt around my fingers. Not able to shake the feeling of a lamb being led to her slaughter.

When we reach the living room, Aidan swings left, leading us into an enormous kitchen it’s painted evergreen, like Aidan’s eyes, with more exposed brick and stainless steel.

The sound of female laughter draws my eyes to possibly the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, sitting at a long table in the middle of the large room. She’s laughing hysterically at something Liam said, playfully shoving another male I don’t recognize in the shoulder.

It goes quiet and all eyes slide to Aidan and me as we fully enter the kitchen, and I’m instantly self-conscious. I shift uneasily on my feet under the weight of their stares.

Aidan turns, swinging his arm toward me. I hesitate, my eyes watching his hand, and he immediately drops it. A flash of something in his eyes. “Every—everyone, this is Rory.”

“Rory, you remember Liam?” My eyes dart to the dirty-blonde, spooning heaven-scented stew into bowls on the other side of the island. I remember how he wrestled me into a chair back in the warehouse. The asshole has the balls to wink at me.

“Mmm, how could I forget?” I grumble, mostly under my breath.

Aidan points to the male I don’t recognize. The one currently shooting daggers at me with his dark eyes. “My older brother, Koen.”

I swallow hard and give him a curt nod of acknowledgement; one he doesn’t return. The anxiety in my chest doubles. Koen O’Rourke. Fuck me. I realize he’s the male I saw on the couch yesterday when we arrived.I fight through the realization that Koen O'Rourke— who doesn’t know who I really am —already seems to hate me. There’s no mistaking the disdain in his eyes.

“And this little hellion right here is our little sister, Reagan.”

Reagan gives me a soft smile and a little wave I can’t help but return. Out of all of them, she’s the only one who looks truly “Irish.” With red-gold curls cascading down her back and bright emerald green eyes that are a stark contrast against pale skin. She’s absolutely stunning.

Aidan pulls out a chair and I plop uncomfortably into it. He takes the seat next to me, and I fidget under Koen’s scrutiny and Aidan’s proximity. Should’ve stayed in the room.

Another beat and Liam places a steaming hot bowl of stew in front of me and the sweet scent makes my mouth water.

“You can thank Reagan for the invitation. I think if Aidan wasn’t successful in dragging you out here, she’d have fetched you herself,”Liam jests.

Reagan laughs, “Rory here is our guest, and she needs to eat. She might as well do it with us.”

I can’t say I agree with her. As a matter of fact, I would’ve preferred to stay as far away from these three men as I can get. But at least the stew smells good. Not a bad last meal. I smile to myself at the morbid thought, but when I catch Koen watching me, it quickly fades away.

I busy myself with taking a bite and nearly groan at the explosion of taste on my tongue.The stew is warm and hearty, full of meat, potatoes and carrots. It instantly brings a feeling of comfort as it fills my empty stomach.

Aidan hands me a roll and I take it from him, careful to avoid any accidental contact with his fingers. The weight of his gaze is heavy as I take another bite of my stew; my eyes trained on the bowl.

The silence at the table is so loud I want to die.No, seriously, I would’ve preferred a firing squad over this tense silence.

Reagan senses it too and clears her throat. “So, Rory, where are you from?”

My eyes dart around the males of the table, pretending to be busy filling their own stomachs.

“Oh—um—here I guess.” I stumble over my words, nerves on edge. “Boston,” I clarify. “But I grew up in Canada. I only recently moved back to the city.” I take another bite of stew to stop myself from rambling on.

“And what brings you back to Boston?” Koen’s rough voice startles me, having not heard it before. It’s deep, with a slight Irish lilt to it. Like Aidan’s, but stronger. For the moment, he’s stowed away his death glare, now eyeing me with cold curiosity. He takes another bite of his own stew while awaiting my answer.

“Skating,” I can say without hesitation. “To skate with Karina Valgova.” I look at Aidan, finding him watching me, an unreadable expression on his face.

“You skate absolutely beautifully!” Reagan exclaims from across from me.

My look of confusion prompts her to explain.

“Liam showed me some videos of your routines and, oh-my-God, you’re talented. Like really talented,” she gushes, beaming at me, meaning every word she says.

“Thank you.” I choke out. Uncertain how I feel knowing Liam, and likely Aidan too, have been watching video after video of my competition film for “research.”

“I wish I had learned to skate. I know enough to get by, but it just looks so freeing flying across the ice. Because of these two brutes over here,” she eyes her brothers with contempt as she continues. “I only ever associated skating with hockey; not exactly my cup of tea.” She holds up one hand to the side of her mouth as though she’s telling me a secret. “If you know what I mean.”

It brings a genuine smile to my face and I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. “I do. Hockey isn’t really my thing either.”My eyes flash to Aidan’s, and he narrows his gaze.

“So besides skating, what else do you do?” Koen asks, redirecting the conversation back to the interrogation in disguise.“Moonlight in any clubs ?” He arches his brow and chews on his spoon while watching me closely.

I do my best to suppress the wince as I answer him, “Skating is my life. It’s the only thing that matters.” The truth of that statement stings. “If I’m not at the rink, I’m training. If I’m not training, I’m at ballet or at choreography. And other than that, I’m home, alone with my books.”

“—Or at the Chill Zone, the bar upstairs at the Edge,” I add quickly when they just stare at me. “I work there a couple of days a week.”

Koen zeroes in on me, leaning slightly across the table. “Hard to believe, a pretty girl like you. No friends? A boyfriend, perhaps?” I don’t miss how Aidan’s spoon stills at the mention of a boyfriend.Drawing his spoon slowly out of his mouth but not looking at me.

I shake my head, forcing myself not to break eye contact with Koen. His eyes are green like Aidan and Reagan’s, but darker. Almost as if someone blended green with black. “No friends. No boyfriend.”I refuse to blink.

Reagan gasps at my admission. “No friends ?”

I drop my eyes to my bowl, pushing the vegetables around. “No time.”I shrug. Too dangerous, I correct in my head.

“Well, we’ll have to change that, won’t we? Once this business with my brothers is sorted out, you and I, we’re getting drinks.”

I look up at Reagan O’Rourke with shock. Could my salvation come from the youngest of the O’Rourke clan? A petite redhead grinning at me from across the table?

“I’d love that.” My voice is quieter than it should be. Grabbing hold of my empty glass, I rise. “I’m just going to get some more water.” I’m not sure if I’m allowed to get up, but I do it anyway. Feeling their eyes on me as I make my way over to the sink, and fill up my cup, gulping it down before topping it back off again.

“But you have family in the area, though, right? Seeing as how you were born here…” There’s no missing the snark in Koen’s tone. “Parents? Any siblings?”

I’m saved from answering Koen’s dangerous line of questioning by the arrival of someone new to the loft.

“Hello?” A familiar sounding male voice calls from just outside the kitchen.

“In here!” Aidan calls in response, his eyes on me again.

“Alex!” Reagan squeals, jumping out of her chair to pounce on the male who has made his way into the kitchen. He catches her mid-jump, swinging her around in a tight embrace.

I look on with mild interest until they spin and I glimpse the man’s face.

I freeze.

I’m only mildly aware of the shattering clatter my glass makes when it hits the tile floor, when I lock eyes with one of the last people I’d ever expect to see walk into this house…

Alexei.