spine even more.
The room slid away as Deacon’s broad shoulders blocked her view. He slowed as he closed in, and reached up to grip her arms, careful, wary. Not of her, she didn’t think. Maybe her reaction? Surely Deacon wasn’t worried about how she would respond to him. She wasn’t a threat—she was weak. The cracks inside her, widened to the breaking point after last night, threatened to bust apart.
Deacon squeezed her arms gently, concern staring down at her from deep brown eyes. “How are you?”
No one could hear the question but him. She opened her mouth to respond, no clue what she would say. Pressure hit her side.
“Shit!” she gasped.
Deacon released her immediately. “Sorry.”
“You’ll be needing your meds,” Siobhan said. Kindness. Lyse squeezed her eyes closed, willing away tears.
Deacon used a hand on her arm to guide her toward the table. “How’re you feeling?” he asked again.
She dared to meet his gaze, praying she could hold it together. “I’m okay, sir.”
“Lyse, we don’t work together anymore. Don’t you think it’s time you get used to using my name?”
As if she didn’t know how much things had changed between them. She wanted to tell him she called him sir because she respected him, because it was the only way she could show him how she felt, but she tightened her lips over the explanation and nodded instead. He wouldn’t care how a traitor felt about him any more than Fionn did.
Still, the softness never left his eyes or his touch as he helped her into a chair. Siobhan brought a plate over, along with juice and medicine. Lyse gulped the pills down before daring a glance Fionn’s way.
Smoldering green eyes met hers—and that wasn’t smoldering in a good way.
She dropped her gaze to her food. Hang on a few more minutes. Once the pain settled, she could find the strength to enter the fight once again. Right now she felt as fragile as a china cup. A broken one if her side was any indication.
“If you’re done,” Fionn said silkily, “maybe we can get back to planning.”
Lyse winced. Then sucked in a hard breath as pain flared in her side.
Have to quit doing that.
“Stop being a dickhead, Fionn,” Deacon barked. His anger should’ve been a balm to her pride, but really, she wasn’t sure she had any left.
Suck it up, Lyse. Get rid of the pain, then face him.
She wasn’t here for Fionn, no matter what her libido might be screaming. She was here for Siobhan, the woman who’d shown her nothing but kindness. In the long, sleepless hours of the night, an idea had come to her, one she thought could help solve this once and for all.
The back door opened before she could speak. Mack strode inside, a deep frown slashing across his face.
“What’s the story, Mack?” Fionn asked.
“Nothin’ good.”
The look Fionn gave Mack said he wasn’t surprised. Neither was Lyse. Mack had spent all night at the interrogation, and she knew from working with Global First that men like their suspect were one of two things: close-lipped or ignorant. The man in custody had given up too quickly to be the former.
“Compartmentalization keeps your organization secure when things like this happen,” Deacon said. “If the grunts don’t know anything, they can’t spill it during interrogations.”
“They didn’t know you were with us, Fionn,” Siobhan said, tone thoughtful—working a puzzle in her mind. “They thought I’d be an easy grab with only Mack for protection.”
Fionn nodded. “That’s my guess. They’ll know better next time.”
“They’ll be more careful,” Siobhan said.
“They’ll send more men,” Mack said.
Fionn frowned at Mack. He probably would’ve kept that bit from his mother, but Mack wasn’t like that. “She needs to know, Fionn,” Mack said, crossing the room to gather Siobhan against his side. “Keeping her in the dark won’t keep her from being scared. Or taken.”
“Definitely don’t keep me in the dark,” Siobhan agreed. “I can’t fight what I don’t know. What I’m not seeing is, why? Why come after me? I don’t know anything about the money your father stole; I never have. Neither do you. The police investigation after Robert’s death cleared us both.”
“Ferrina isn’t honest; he’s a mob boss, Mam. He’s not going to assume we aren’t hiding anything.”
Siobhan’s grip on Mack tightened; Lyse could see her knuckles going white from across the room. “So what do we do?”
“We’ll keep you safe, acushla. I promise you,” Mack said, his mouth against the top of her head. “That’s why Deacon and King are