Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
The man left and was gone for what accounted for almost a week before he returned to the cabin. He came inside, finished off a bottle of what looked like homemade ale of some sort, and then left again, walking out toward the woods. When he returned, he had the deer tossed over his shoulders like it was nothing. At one point, he looked up directly into the house camera, a vacant expression as if he weren’t really there on his face.
Ronan fast-forwarded through the disgusting part and then watched as the man left the house and went to the lake. The last image is of him jumping into it and disappearing from sight. It was all Ronan needed to see to know he was the one who’d made the mess at the fireplace and there was nothing to worry about here, at least from him.
He started to shut down the computer but then changed his mind, switching the footage to the bedroom from tonight. He watched as Maeve entered the room and shut the door, leaning against it for a moment with her face buried in her hands. She dabbed constantly at her eyes as she packed her bags and closed them, pausing again at the door to take a deep breath before exiting.
Ronan shut the laptop and returned to the living room with his whiskey, realizing for the first time just how quiet and lonely this place was when you were in it all alone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Maeve
Maeve rode through the darkness to the train station in the next town. There was no reason for her to stay. Ronan would never trust her again, and why should he? She should have told him the truth herself instead of letting him find out on his own.
She had done her best to hold it together before she left the house, knowing he would only see her tears as blackmail. She’d even made it into the car with a straight face, telling the driver where she needed to go. She hadn’t decided where the train should take her, but she could sort that out when she got there.
As soon as she was settled into the dark back seat of the car, though, it had all come rushing forward—the tears falling like rain. She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter, that she hardly knew him anyway, but that wasn’t really true. They had bonded quickly, but they had bonded. Why was this so damned hard? A thousand questions ran through her brain and seeped back out of her eyes. They seemed endless.
So, there it was. Ronan was gone and she was alone again, with one problem solved and a hundred more to go. What business did she have moving on with life when she hadn’t finished exiting her old one yet? She still had things to deal with back in Dublin.
Martin was alive. That had been a shock. It was also confusing. He had come out at the same time she had, yet he’d not exited into the forest with her. Why? Perhaps she needed to resolve her problems with him before deciding what to do after that.
The thought made her laugh aloud, garnering her a strange glace back from the driver, who no doubt had heard her crying and was now confused by the misplaced laughter. What made her think she had anything to resolve with Martin Cobain? Wasn’t that part of her life over now? Why would she ever go back there?
She surmised that it was a bit like Stockholm Syndrome. Perhaps it was Stockholm Syndrome completely. She had been sent to live with Clan Maguire when she was in her early teens. It was understood that she would be a mate for Martin when they had come of age.
She could have done worse. Martin was a brute to the men who crossed him, especially after he became a private guard to Trill once Sorley was out of the picture. He had never been unkind to her, however. He had respected her chastity until they were of age and betrothed, and he had given her gifts to please her, though he wasn’t overly affectionate.
She had never really loved him like a woman should love the man she is to marry, but she had been content and, on some level, they had been friends. Lovemaking had been very sterile. He seemed mostly disinterested and was content to only satiate his needs quickly and leave her to her own devices.
He was the only man she’d been with prior to Ronan, and she’d been blown away by how exciting sex with someone you truly wanted could be. The difference in the two men had made her realize she’d been pursuing revenge not out of love, but out of duty to the man she had been to marry.