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“I can’t tell you that.”
My patience was running dangerously low. “Are you willing to fucking die to keep her location a secret?”
“Orin, man, threatening me with death only proves that you don’t deserve her.”
Pulling the Glock from the small of my back, I pressed it to the side of his head. When I spoke, my voice was a dangerous growl. “You will tell me where she is.”
The bastard wasn’t even spooked by his impending death.
“And then what? What will you do? Beg for her forgiveness? Excuse me for not believing that’s fucking possible.”
If Fallon wanted me to beg, I would have. If she wanted me to bleed for my sins, I would do that, too. I realized then that there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for her.
And now, I had lost her.
Reholstering my gun, I stalked back to my room and slammed the door. The only problem was everywhere I looked, all I could see was Fallon. She was there on the bed, on the wall I’d pressed her against, on the floor where I’d taken her like a fucking animal. Her ylang-ylang scent tainted the air, making every breath I drew in torturous to bear.
What the fuck was I thinking in sending her away?
The truth was, I wasn’t thinking. I’d been terrified by the fact that she’d burrowed into my life so completely in such a short span of time that I had to exorcise her from my life before she hurt me—like everyone else had hurt me.
But this hollow feeling inside me felt like a chasm.
And the only way to fill it would be to get her back.
My anger boiled out of my room when I opened the door and stalked down the hall. Downstairs, I snatched the keys from the hook by the front door, walked outside, and got into the Rover. I would find Fallon if it was the last thing I did. And when I found her, I’d bring her home.
* * *
Six hours later,the sun had risen on Galway, and I was nowhere closer to finding Fallon. She was a ghost, disappearing into the ether and taking my cold black heart with her. How the fuck had I let it get this far? How the fuck had she gotten past all my defenses? I pulled up at the waterfront in Galway and sat there, staring out at the ocean. The fishing boats were coming in with their holds full of fish, the fishermen on the decks preparing lines and securing equipment.
Inside my pants pocket, my phone rang.
“What?” I demanded without looking at the screen.
It was Finnan.
“Where are you?”
“Galway.”
“I told you to head north.”
Fuck. “I’ll leave after I take care of some personal business.”
“Nothing is more important than the clan. I’ll expect an update tonight.”
He hung up before I could tell him to go and fuck himself. A second later, my phone pinged with a message. I glanced down at the screen to find the name of three northern towns that Finnan wanted me to check out first. Castlebar. Charlestown. Tuam.
Gritting my teeth, I shifted the car into drive and headed north out of town.
It took me over an hour to get to Charlestown. Located on the County Mayo side of the border, it technically belonged to the Mac Tíre Clan, and it shouldn’t have been compromised. Parking at the local pub, I stepped into the dark space and surveyed the patrons lingering there so early in the morning.
The bartender looked at me warily. “Can I help ya?” he asked, rubbing at a glass anxiously, his eyes darting to a younger man who was feeding fresh wood into the hearth on the opposite side of the room.
“You know who I am?” I asked, stepping closer.
“Aye. You’re one of the Mac Tíre.”
