Page 45 of Twisted Secrets (The O’Malleys #3)

O livia 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 wild 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 crystallized 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.”