Page 9 of Stolen Rebel

LIAM

My da used to say I had a nose like a bloodhound. No matter where I was, I could always smell Mam’s baking. I’d almost trip over my feet racing to the house to gorge myself on whatever delicious treat she’d decided to make that day.

Back then it was a benefit, a way to get my fill before my brothers showed up. Now, sitting on Patrick’s private jet with Rowan across the aisle, it’s a curse. Every move she makes sends a wave of her scent shooting up my nose. She still wears the same perfume, still washes with the same soap, but beneath the familiar scents, it’s all her.

I called her mine once.

She’s still mine, but the rules have changed.

Back then, the “mine” I’d mumble when I was inside her came from a place of love. Now, it’s from something darker. For half a decade, I carried a wound she put in me, but the tables have turned at last. The suffering’s hers now. And she will suffer. You can be sure of it.

Goddamn, though, her scent still makes me hard. Clean, warm, like freshly ground cinnamon, and I hate it. I hate that she still has that power over me. I used to crave that smell because it didn’t only remind me of Rowan, but of Mam’s kitchen, too.

Now it reminds me of betrayal, but my dick isn’t listening. It’s often said that men’s brains and their dicks are not connected, and I’m living proof.

I shift in my seat, but all that does is add more friction.

The seat belt sign illuminates. I lock mine in place. Rowan hasn’t moved since I pointed at that seat ten minutes ago. She’s staring out the window, her back rigid, but her hands give her away. She’s got them clasped in her lap, but there’s a slight waver, a tremble she’s doing her best to hide.

She’s scared.

Good. She fucking should be scared.

“Fasten your seat belt.”

She turns slowly in my direction. Our eyes lock. There’s a hint of defiance in hers, a whisper of the old “Rebel” because that’s exactly what she was. A live wire, a risk taker, a woman who’d leap off a cliff into the freezing waters below without knowing how deep it was. My Rowan had embraced life with gusto, as though each day was her last.

I challenge her with my gaze. Go on. Defy me.

Her shoulders drop, and she turns her attention to the seat belt, snapping both halves together. How disappointing. I’d relish her disobedience, a chance to put her in her place and show her how her life will be now.

For how long, I’m not sure. Until I feel as though I’ve got the revenge I’m owed, I guess. Could be years.

Time is the one thing I have on my side, and the hatred borne from her betrayal still burns bright. I’ve kept it alive for five years while I didn’t know where she was. It’s different now. She’s here, with me, and I can keep the flames alight for decades.

I never discovered why she’d sold me out, what I did to make her hate me so much that I almost died because of it. Now’s my chance to find out. And she will tell me eventually. No matter how long it takes. It doesn’t matter how many days, weeks, or even months she keeps up this bullshit innocent charade, she’ll tell me eventually.

Since keeping her at the warehouse didn’t work, maybe a little forced proximity will get me faster results. Drive Rebel out into the open by having her look at what she did every fucking day. She always did have a conscience. In the end, she won’t be able to help herself. And once I know the truth, then I can decide what to do with her.

Killing her is still very much on the table.

An hour later, the plane touches down at a private airfield west of Dublin. The border control here is on the payroll and won’t check any papers, which is just as well considering our extra passenger is missing her passport.

“Home sweet home.” I curl my lip on one side and unbuckle my seat belt. “Let’s go.”

Once again, she obediently does as I ask in silence. As she stands, her arm brushes mine. She jerks away as though my touch is poisonous. I grip her biceps and propel her forward. My car idles at the bottom of the steps, and my driver opens the rear door.

“Thanks, Noah.” I shove her inside, and I’m not gentle about it, then follow. Noah slams the door closed and gets in the driver’s side. “Good trip, boss?”

I smirk at Rowan. “A surprising one, but yes, good I think.” I wink. “Don’t you agree, Rowan?”

A nerve flickers in her cheek, but instead of answering, she reverts to her favorite hobby: staring out of the window.

I take out my phone and scan through my messages, but the car is even more close-quartered than the plane, and all my senses feel like they’ve been supercharged. The smell of her has invaded every part of me. My ears pick up the tiny hitch in her breath each time she fills her lungs with oxygen. The hair on my arm is still standing on end from where she brushed against me, and my palm tingles from feeling her muscles flex beneath my grip.

This woman was once my life, a secret I kept from my brothers because I didn’t want even a second of her attention on anyone but me. And her betrayal and my close brush with death were even more of a reason to keep her existence from them. My weakness for her made me an easy target. I won’t make the same mistake again, no matter how much my body aches for her. Mind over matter. I’m no longer that naive idiot drowning in his first love. I’m a grown man, shaped by my experiences, both good and bad.

Now I’ll have no choice but to tell them everything. I’m not sure how I feel about that, but whatever it costs me, getting the truth from Rowan and exacting the revenge I’m owed will be worth it.