Page 67 of The Villain

“Fuck,” I muttered. “So it’s either someone on the inside, or someone talked.”

“Seems like it,” he spoke through gritted teeth.

“Who would do that? What about the guy whose ear I mangled?”

Cian’s nose wrinkled. “I don’t think Rank is smart enough to figure out where the cameras are or sell me out. I don’t think he’s brave enough either. But I’m having a meeting with my officers tonight, and finding him is the first fucking thing on the agenda.”

He sighed. “I never planned on taking over the crew this soon. Patrick was supposed to live longer. He was supposed to be too damn evil to die young. But the older guys blame me for his death. They didn’t want me to take over yet.”

“You’re in your thirties, right?” I scoffed. “It’s not like you’re some kid.”

“To them I am. The night of the fire, Rank called meboy. I slammed his face into the fucking bar for it.” He shook his head. “Maybe they were never going to be ready for the change in leadership, but I was hoping they’d be too old to give a shit by the time that happened. Instead, Rank hasjustenough energy to still be a pain in my ass.”

His gaze slid over to me. “It doesn’t help that they all know I’m bisexual. I’ve never hidden it, even though Patrick wanted me to, and we have a few other queer members. Hack is an out and proud trans man, Mads will fuck anything with a pulse, and Rhys is...” He waved a hand, searching for the right words. “…what he is. Anyway. I’m reshaping the crew into something they don’t like.”

I hadn’t realized Cian was bi. I wasn’t sure whatIwas. I’d only been sexually attracted to two people in my entire life—Conrad and Cian. Everything else I’d forced. There was probably a term out there for me, but I didn’t have a phone to Google it.

“Patrick didn’t lead like you do. He was too transactional. He bought his men’s loyalty with rewards rather than respect.”

Cian tilted his head. “You remember all that?”

“Mick was my East Coast manager. He told me about Patrick, and I remember how he operated from the few times I met him.” I finished off the last of my sandwich and dropped the empty plate on the nightstand. “I told you. I know how to read people.”

“Is that the kind of leader you were?” Cian asked. “Rewards? Trips to Vegas for the guy who made you the most money?”

I gave him a pointed look. “No. I ruled with fear. I built a cruel reputation, and it worked. Fear outranked respect when I held the power. But fear doesn’t last. The second I started slipping, the rats fled the ship. I blamed them, at the time. But not anymore.” I slid down into a half-recline and settled back against the pillows before sighing. “So, no. I wasn’t taking trips to Vegas. I’ve never been on a plane. Until last year, I’d never even leftIllinois.”

Finished with his food, Cian nudged me over until I made room for him to lie beside me. He propped his head on his fist. “Really? So you’d never seen the ocean before you came to Jersey.”

“Still haven’t.”

His jaw dropped. That might’ve been the first time I actually surprised Cian. “What? Why not?”

I’d wanted to go—of course I had. Who didn’t dream of their first trip to the beach? I swallowed hard. “Ben, Conrad, and I used to talk about going together. So when it was just me…” I bit down on the inside of my cheek. “For some reason, going alone seemed worse than not going at all.”

Cian’s brow furrowed, and he studied me like I was a puzzle to figure out. The contrasting shades of light and dark blue in his eyes were even more pronounced in the daylight, with the soft sun streaming through the windows. I swiped my fingers below his left eye. “You have your father’s eye color, but somehow they look nothing like his.”

His lips pulled into a small smile. “My mom called them Irish eyes.”

“Where is she now?” I asked.

“Dead.”

“What happened?”

“Cancer. When I was six.”

“Was she… nice?” I desperately wanted Cian to have had at least one decent parent.

His smile grew, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Yeah. She was perfect.”

“Tell me about her.”

Cian blew out a breath and was quiet for a moment. Then his gaze went distant, lost in memories. “She loved me so much. She read books to me, and carried me on her shoulders everywhere.” His smile faded. “After she died, I was mad at her for years. She was the reason I knew what it felt like to be loved by a parent. So when Patrick turned on me, I didn’t understand. When he yelled at me and smacked me, I only cried harder because I wanted her back. She showed me what love felt like, and then she took it away. For a long time, I wished I’d never known what it was like to be loved at all. Maybe I could’ve been better for Patrick.”

He clenched his jaw and paused. “My back. The scars are from his belt. The buckle end.”

Cian’s hand lay flat on the bed between us, and mine rested beside it. I slid it closer until our pinkies touched. “I’m sorry you lost her. And I’m sorry Patrick was such a piece of shit.”