Destroy Me - Ella Sheridan Page 0,38

here. We’ll keep you safe.”

“So you got nothing from the interrogation then?” Fionn asked.

“Nothing.” Mack’s voice was deep, grim. Angry. “We did get something from Aileen McCray, though.”

Siobhan glanced up so quickly her head knocked into Mack’s chin. “What happened?”

Mack’s gaze met hers for a long moment, and Lyse could see the war going on inside him—how much to tell, maybe. Siobhan wouldn’t be kept in the dark, but whatever Mack had seen, it was bad. “She didn’t report for her shift this morn.” He turned to the men. “Aileen is a junior garda, one of our most recent hires. When she didn’t arrive, we sent someone out to her place to check. She’d—” He stopped, swallowed hard. “She’d been beaten.”

Siobhan cried out, the sound echoing Lyse’s shock. She knew Aileen, had sat in the pub and drank with her. The young woman was Lyse’s age, had a daughter who wasn’t in school yet.

“Was Kyla hurt?” Lyse asked.

“We haven’t found her yet,” Mack admitted. “I questioned Aileen at the hospital; she said Ferrina’s men took Kyla yesterday morning, warning her to do what they said or they’d harm the girl. We’re looking now, but…”

“She failed to give them accurate information,” Fionn said.

“She did. Through no fault of her own.” Mack swiped a rough hand down his face. “They showed up during the night. When she argued with them, demanded her daughter back— Well, they weren’t up for taking it kindly.”

Lyse set her fork down on the edge of her plate. She couldn’t stomach another bite, not with the graphic images filling her head. She knew the fear of being blackmailed, knew the sick worry that had driven Aileen to share information.

“I’ve talked to a couple of sources,” Mack was saying, “but no one will be daring to come forward now. Ferrina’s made his intentions clear.”

“And where does that leave us?” Deacon asked. “We need a plan if we’re going to beat this guy.”

Lyse swallowed hard. “I—” She cleared her throat, tried again. “I think I can help with that.”

Five pairs of eyes zeroed in on her, one of them unreadable, the rest… Well, she couldn’t read the rest either. She was too busy avoiding a hot green gaze that seemed to be trying to sear her skin off her body.

“What did you have in mind?” Mack asked.

Her hand shook as she raised her glass to her lips, but without a drink she wouldn’t get any words out, so she did what she had to. When the glass was safely back on the table, she made herself face Fionn’s anger.

“Ferrina’s after the money; we know that,” she said.

Fionn’s eyes narrowed. “What’s your point?”

Jesus, why did this feel so hard? “There are only two ways to stop him: either we kill him, which would be up to the four of you”—she swept a hand toward the men—“or we give the money to the authorities so it’s out of his reach.”

“We don’t have the money,” Siobhan said, shaking her head. “The garda never found it. And in all these years, I’ve not seen a single clue in Robert’s things. I’ve looked; believe me.”

Lyse squared her shoulders. “I could find it.”

Fionn tensed, a shock wave of suspicion slamming across the room to batter her. “The garda found nothing. Not a single thing. That money is gone.”

“That was ten years ago, Fionn,” Lyse pointed out, fighting to stay calm. Forcing herself to meet his look head-on despite the frantic flush of anxiety creeping up her face. “And they didn’t have me.”

Silence filled the room. She could sense the others looking at her, at Fionn, but she kept her focus on him, knowing he was the one she had to convince if she was going to be able to get Siobhan out of this. “I’m not working with Ferrina,” she told him, praying he’d listen. “If I was, he could have lost his best source of insider information yesterday.” She had the stabbing pain in her side to prove it.

“Or did his best to throw us off the scent,” Fionn said.

This time the pain stabbing at her wasn’t physical, and there was no way to hold back the shock of tears in her eyes. “Fionn—”

“Jesus, you’ve become a bastard,” Deacon muttered.

Siobhan stepped toward him. “Son…”

Fionn’s hand came up, cutting them all off. “I’m sorry.” He held there a moment, staring deep into Lyse’s eyes, then dropped his hand. “Deac’s right, I have become a bastard. Habit, maybe, saying whatever pops into my head. I didn’t mean