CIARAN
The cabin was quiet aside from the incessant tick of the antique clock above the mantel.
I was sitting in the leather chair beside the desk, a half-full glass of whiskey within reach, and the papers before me still untouched.
Instead of dealing with said papers, I was reading the short note Liam had left for me on my desk.
It wasn't his writing, but it had his words: "She's fine. Shaken, but fine."
Liar.
I'd looked at her face before I'd walked away, and I saw the way her gaze held mine.
It was similar to a deer caught in headlights, and she wanted to run away.
The fear I saw in her eyes wasn't the kind I was hoping for. Hell, I didn't even want it at all.
I leaned back, the chair creaking beneath me in protest, and shut my eyes.
That scene in the yard came back again,
