Page 157 of Bound Lies

“I have to go,” he says, almost reluctantly. “I need to get this to someone to verify the contents, then talk with my brothers to decide how we want to proceed.”

I force a smile as I step away from him, even though it makes my heart ache at the thought of watching him leave when there’s still so much I want to say to him.

“Don’t overdo it,” I warn as he gets to his feet. “You need rest, or you’ll burn out.”

He nods, meeting my gaze for a moment, and there’s a flicker of something soft and tender there before his expression hardens into focus.

“I’ll come back home after I’ve sorted this out and take a nap. You could always join me if you like?”

My cheeks burn, and he flashes me a wink before heading out.

As I watch him leave, my hands move to rest on my stomach, a habit that I think will give me away if I’m not careful.

It’s still surreal that I’m going to have Kieran’s baby, and yet, somehow, it doesn’t feel like I’m alone in this.

He has already proven to me that he’s trustworthy, and the fact that his first reaction to me giving him the evidence was to hold me and assure me his feelings are real speaks louder than any words he could speak.

It’s enough to make the fear of losing him a little less suffocating.

Chapter Thirty-Six

KIERAN

Andre doesn’t even bother with small talk when I step into his office less than an hour later, carrying the folder of evidence. He leans back in his chair, the glow from his desk lamp throwing sharp shadows across his face as he regards me with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity.

“Did we have an appointment?”

“Since when do I need one?” I toss the folder down on his desk.

“What’s this?” Andre picks up the folder and flips open the cover, his eyes quickly scanning the contents.

“A police interview transcript. I need you to verify the contents.”

Andre nods as he continues to read through the handful of papers inside. “How did you get this?”

“That’s not your concern.”

“It is if you want me to verify it’s real.”

I glare at Andre, but his attention is solely focused on the evidence in his hand, which only irritates me more.

“Riley Walsh.”

Andre lets out a low whistle that has me grinding my teeth.

“She used it as leverage as a way of getting my family to help her.”

His eyes scan the first page, and I watch as his brow furrows.

I took a quick look over the document once I was safely in the car and away from Riley, and it’s just what she said it was, a police interview transcript in which Sean O’Keefe confessed to murdering my father.

“And you never asked to see it until now?” Andre asks.

“Why does that matter?”

Andre lets out a humorless laugh before tossing the folder onto his cluttered desk. “Because it’s fake.”

“Fake? How can you tell just by looking at it?”