Page 33 of Twisted Secrets (The O’Malleys #3)

T hey didn’t talk much for the rest of the drive.

Cillian kept a hold of Olivia’s hand, and the little shakes that made it through that tiny point of contact worried him.

He understood her fear. Even if Dmitri Romanov didn’t have a reputation for being one cold son of a bitch, any family like theirs would fight tooth and nail to keep its members close and under its thumb. His included.

Hell, between his father and brother, they’d driven Carrigan away by trying to marry her off to none other than Dmitri Romanov.

He wondered if Olivia knew that, though he doubted it from her comments about her half brother keeping his word.

It was something Cillian would have to tell her, because it was one more reason to prompt the man to come after them.

No wonder Dmitri had been downright delighted to discover she’d gotten close to Cillian.

He was still pissed about how things had turned out six months ago.

Dmitri hadn’t done anything overtly threatening since then, but he also hadn’t responded to Father’s attempts to make things right.

He could be the one behind the missing money.

Cillian filed the thought away for later. Once he had the information from Aiden, he could figure things out one way or another. Coming up with wild theories wasn’t going to help anyone—only facts would. Right now, he needed to focus on making Olivia and her daughter as secure and safe as possible.

That, at least, he could do.

He took the turn onto the dirt road leading out to the country house.

His mother had wanted it paved years ago, but his father dug in his heels about it.

It had been a dirt road since his childhood, and while he might allow a few upgrades in the house itself, he wanted the land kept as untouched as possible.

It was one of the strange contradictions of Seamus O’Malley.

He was unashamedly a city man who loved his luxuries, but when they came out here, it was like something relaxed in him.

Like he was transported back to a simpler time before he became one of the three crime lords in Boston.

Naturally, it was only in the last year that Cillian had been able to look back and realize that.

Growing up, he’d been more focused on cramming as many adventures into their time out here as possible.

He wound through the trees, going slow to avoid some of the potholes that had developed over the years.

It was like stepping into another world.

He and his siblings had roamed these woods during the few weeks of each summer they spent out here.

Oh, Sloan and Devlin had always posted up somewhere with a book and ignored the rest of their siblings’ pleas to come play, but the rest of them had never been closer than when they were away from the city.

It wasn’t like that anymore.

Time changed everyone. He knew that.

When Aiden finished high school, their father deemed him old enough to start the training his being heir required.

He hadn’t gone away all at once, but somewhere in the last decade or so, he’d become a near-stranger.

And Teague…Teague had nearly disappeared into himself before Callie came along.

Now Carrigan was dead to the family, Sloan was more ghost than woman, and Keira was on a path of self-destruction that worried even him.

And Devlin?

Devlin was six feet underground, his future cut off in the space of a heartbeat.

Cillian stopped in front of the house, but didn’t turn off the engine.

The building rose out of the clearing in the middle of the trees, a giant structure that looked like something out of the Revolutionary War.

Since it had been built sometime around then, he figured that made sense. But it was home away from home.

He turned to Olivia. “Stay in the car. I need to check in with my men to make sure it’s safe, and then I’ll be back.”

She nodded, exhaustion and stress written all over her face.

The last twenty-four hours had taken a toll on her, and he wanted nothing more than to wipe it all away.

Since that wasn’t a real option, he’d do what he could—provide her a safe place where she could breathe until they figured out the next step.

The warm night air brought the sounds of crickets. He stopped for a second and just inhaled, letting clean country scents wash over him. Boston was home, but this was a close second. Forcing himself to focus, he climbed the steps to the front door.

Mark met him on the big wraparound porch. “All clear. There hasn’t been anyone here since your sisters.” When they’d been hidden away during the fallout of the conflict with the Hallorans.

“Perfect.” He nodded. “And the rest?”

“I have the men stationed at the easy access points, and one of us will always be in the house.” Mark jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “There’s enough food to last until Monday, and I’ve scheduled a delivery for the morning.”

In short, he’d taken care of everything just like Cillian asked.

“Good.” He glanced over his shoulder. “My friend isn’t used to a bodyguard presence.

” And he wasn’t sure how her daughter would respond.

The little tyke had been sleeping through the entire drive.

Olivia had enough to worry about without Hadley being scared by strange men looming in the background.

“Got it. I’ll tell the boys to make themselves scarce.” With that, he strode around the side of the house.

Cillian made his way back to the car and opened Olivia’s door. “We’re good. If you want to get Hadley inside, I’ll grab your suitcase.”

She climbed out and looked around. “When I think of the O’Malleys, I don’t think of a place like this. It’s a weird combination of peaceful and creepy.”

“That about sums it up.” He laughed softly. “It’s an old family property by way of my father.”

“I think I like it.” She stopped in front of him, close enough that he could catch her lavender and vanilla scent.

Olivia ran her hands up his chest and met his gaze.

“Thank you. I know you didn’t have to do this, and I’m bringing a whole lot in the way of baggage to the table, but you didn’t hesitate. So…thank you.”

He covered her hands with his, holding them in place. “No thanks necessary. I want you safe—both of you—and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you are.”

“Cillian…” She went up onto her tiptoes and framed his face with her hands. She kissed him, soft and sweet and lingering. “You are better than I deserve.”

He stood there for a second after she’d moved away to the rear passenger door to unbuckle her kid, rooted in place by the sheer intimacy of the kiss.

He’d dated, but he couldn’t remember a single time that a girlfriend had kissed him the way Olivia just did—as something that was done just for the sake of itself, rather than a gateway to something more.

It brought to mind casual weekday evenings spent lounging on the couch together and Sunday mornings spent in Mass.

Slow your roll, man. One kiss and you’re dangerously close to putting a ring on her finger. She’s probably not even Catholic. He snorted. Like that mattered to him. Sure, his family would shit a brick, but that was the least of his concerns right now.

Devlin would like her .

He waited for the inevitable flash of searing pain and breathlessness that thinking of his younger brother brought, but there was only a tentative warmth.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t had a daytime panic attack since he and Olivia started circling each other.

Cillian watched her walk through the front door, still trying to wrap his mind around it.

Was he actually starting to heal? If he was, she was part of the reason, the thing that had shoved him out of his rut and back into life.

I don’t want to let that go. I don’t want to let her go .

He grabbed his bag and her suitcase and followed her into the house.

Hadley chose that moment to wake up, blinking big dark eyes so like her mom’s at him.

She was an adorable little thing, all pudgy cheeks and curly brown hair, and when she sent him a grin, he saw she only had a handful of itty-bitty teeth.

It was downright charming. He grinned back, laughing a little when she ducked her head under her mother’s long fall of hair. “Cute.”

Olivia glanced over her shoulder. “She is, isn’t she?”

Mark had left the lights on leading through the formal living room and into the kitchen. Cillian set the bags at the bottom of the stairs. “I’m sure you’re hungry.”

“Not really, but Hadley probably is.” She tickled her daughter. “Aren’t you, baby girl?”

“Yes!”

“Thought so.” She sent him a look that was half-nervous, half-unapologetic. “We’ll be right back.” She moved into the hallway, swooping down to grab a smaller pink bag that had been on top of the suitcase.

Left to his own devices, Cillian searched the cupboards.

There were plenty of canned goods and nonperishables, and he found a jar of homemade jelly that he was damn sure no one in his family had actually made and a tub of peanut butter.

Mark and the boys must have picked up a few things on their way up here, because there were several loaves of bread on the kitchen island, and three gallons of milk in the fridge.

And bacon. Lots of bacon.

He snorted. At least they have their priorities in order.

Since Olivia hadn’t reappeared, he got to work putting together three PB&J sandwiches.

It only took a few minutes and, after some consideration, he cut the crust off of one of them.

He seemed to remember Keira going through a stage where she refused to eat crust on anything for years.

Then he poured three glasses of milk. He wasn’t a huge fan, but he figured Olivia needed the calories.

Plus, little kids were supposed to drink a lot of milk, weren’t they?

Hell, he didn’t know.