Knocking twice with just one knuckle, I turn the doorknob. “What’s the craic, Granny?” I call from my side of the door, forcing a little laugh that probably makes me sound like a serial killer.
“How many guesses do I get?”
My body recognizes the voice before my brain does. Adrenaline floods my veins, pumping so fast I go light-headed. Thehairs on the back of my neck stand up, and my palms feel like I’ve dragged them through cold porridge.
Wolf.
I shouldn’t be surprised. I already know the man will stop at nothing to get what he wants—and hewantsme to answer his calls, to respond to his texts. He didn’t build his Lone Wolf empire by letting people ignore him. Da’s Sunday deadline hangs over both our heads, only forty-eight hours away.
I force my feet to move into the room, even though it feels like I’m dragging a sledge of concrete blocks. My gaze automatically goes to Granny’s armchair. She’s supposed to be sitting there, a blanket across her lap and a cardigan over her shoulders because she’s always freezing.
She isn’t in her chair.
A quick glance shows she’s not in the jacks either; the door’s wide open, which she hates. And she’s not in her bed, which is easy to see, because Cole Wolf is sprawled against her pile of pillows, his shoes on the blanket that’s folded across the bottom of the bed with military precision. Granny would hate that too.
I’ll kill him. I’ll get a knife, get a gun, get whatever it takes. And I’ll be sure he hurts, for a long, long time.
“What the fuck did you do to my grandmother?” My voice is very low; it sounds like one of those recordings of tectonic plates shifting, just before an earthquake.
“Nothing.” He sounds amused. “Or nothing like what you’re thinking. I had her transferred to a room on the third floor. It gets some actual sunlight, and it has a view of all three oaks.”
I feel my face flush. Now, more than ever, I wish I’d kept fighting Da about Granny’s living quarters.
I tell Wolf, “Granny is the wisest woman I know.” My words are nearly sub-sonic. “And you say she just went along with your plan, no questions asked?”
“She asked questions. She asked who was paying for the change, and why.”
“What the fuck did you tell her?”
“I said I was taking care of everything as a favor to you. In gratitude for your kind words and sweet disposition.”
I glare. “What did you really tell her?”
“That it’s what I’d want someone to do for me.”
I look around the room. The walls have been stripped—none of Granny’s photos are left, not the plain wooden cross her own da carved, nor the painting of St. Brigid. Now that my brain is starting to function again, I can see that her closet door is open too, and all the hangers are bare. The framed snap of Breagha and me is missing from the top of the dresser.
“How did you know I’d come here?” I finally ask. I feel exhausted. Resigned.
“You’re a Red Cap Raider, and you have to ask?”
The tattoo on my thigh throbs, worse than it ever did when I got it inked. I flush, thinking about the fresh cut I made Monday night. The bruises Wolf gave me have faded during the week, but they’re still visible to anyone looking closely.
Of course he’s looking closely. I feel like I’m pinned under a microscope. “We’re both good at breaking into records,” he says. “ButIdon’t feel the need for blackmail.”
“And you think I do? Get up out of that!” The Irish protest is thick in my throat.
“Just a little Bitcoin on the side?”
“What the actual fuck?” He’s making no sense. “Did someone drop you on your head?”
He stares at me without blinking, and all the air goes out of the room. “Do. Not. Lie. To. Me,” he whispers, each syllable a fully formed threat.
I feel terrycloth belts knotted around my wrists and ankles. I feel his leather belt landing squarely on my clit. I feel his teeth scrape my nipples.
I allowed all that. I consented. He measured out his power, his anger at my slapping him, his shock at discovering my Red Cap tattoo. He controlled himself.
But he’s raging now. I read the narrowing of his eyes, thetight set of his jaw. He’s holding back—barely—but if his fury slips loose this time, I’m not sure either of us will survive.