Destroy Me - Ella Sheridan Page 0,43

his back, holding it down at his thigh as he joined Fionn at the back door.

“Where is—”

Fionn eyed the crack between curtain and door, pausing a moment, then yanked at the doorknob. “Here.”

Deacon hurried through the door, the little girl clutched in his arms. Lyse could hear his soft reassurances as he brought the child to the kitchen table and Siobhan’s open arms.

Kyla was crying softly. From the look of her pinched face, fear and cold filled her, but as Deacon placed her in Siobhan’s lap, the sight of a familiar face broke through her terror. Loud wailing filled the kitchen.

Lyse’s chest went tight, her breath hitching in her throat. Pain shot through her breastbone as she dug her fist against it.

Fionn raised his voice above the child’s cries. “Lyse, go up and get Mack.”

“No.” Siobhan shook her head, cuddling Kyla against her chest. “He needs to be sleeping. I’ll take care of her.”

“You can’t, Siobhan.” Lyse stepped closer. “Kyla can’t be cleaned up and put to bed. She has to go into the station.” Anything they did for her now could ruin evidence against the men who’d taken her.

“Then I’ll go with her,” Siobhan said. “She knows me.”

“No.”

The denial came from Mack this time, moving into the doorway to the rest of the house, his chest bare and the button of his jeans undone. Mack might be a good bit older than her, but Lyse couldn’t help thinking what a lucky woman her friend was.

“I’ll take her in. It’s important, acushla. We have to keep building a case against Ferrina’s men. But we won’t be risking your safety to do it,” he said when Siobhan tried to protest.

“I’ll go with her,” Lyse promised. “She knows me a little bit. I’ll help keep her safe.”

“And you’ll be safe here, mam,” Fionn pointed out.

Siobhan rocked Kyla gently in her arms, soothing the child. Her gaze glued to Mack like a lifeline. “Okay. Lyse, grab a blanket from upstairs. Her jumper’s gone; we’ll need to keep her warm.”

Chapter Eighteen

“They know we’re here. Why aren’t they attacking?”

Fionn glanced over at his mam, noting the lines of strain around her eyes and mouth. The tension in her body. He’d spent the afternoon staring out at the backyard from the safety of the computer in Mack’s study; she had spent it waiting, helpless, for something to happen. She was the kind of woman who felt responsible for everyone around her, from a small traumatized child to the man who’d protected her for the past couple of years. Doing nothing had to be killing her.

Abandoning the security screens, he crossed the room to stand beside her, an arm around her shoulders pulling her close. Comforting her. Letting his warmth ease the strain radiating from her body. Siobhan sighed, her head slowly coming to rest on his shoulder.

“Nerves,” King said in answer to her question. “They’ve sent their message, that Kyla wasn’t worth the trouble now that they know where you are, ma’am. They also know you’re not alone. They’re waiting for us to either get too tired or too wired to fight effectively.”

“They don’t know who they’re dealing with, do they?” Deacon chuckled.

King threw his friend a smile that was all teeth. Clearly both men were ready for a fight.

Fionn wished he was equally ready.

Normally he would joke the pressure off and not worry about the wait. But this wasn’t just any fight; his mam was the target this time. He needed her safe—now, not tomorrow or a week from now. Holding her in his arms brought home exactly how fragile she was, no matter how strong she seemed at every other moment of the day. She was his to protect.

And she wasn’t the only one.

Lyse had been caught in the crossfire once already. Now she was out there with Mack, somewhere he couldn’t defend her, couldn’t keep her safe, take care of her. And yeah, he knew Mack was more than capable. But Mack wasn’t him.

The instinct was there, no matter how much he tried to deny it—and he’d tried a helluva lot, for a very long time. Months back home. Every second since he’d arrived in Ireland. And yet, despite days of rejecting Lyse over and over with almost rabid fierceness, he’d had his ass in that seat all day today, not just looking for a threat—looking for Mack and Lyse’s return. It had his head spinning, but he couldn’t escape the truth.

Lyse meant something to him.

King’s hum where he stood at the window