Page 87 of Lawless Sinners

I freeze, listening.

For one awful second, I think it might be Ronan. My stomach drops as I catch a low murmur and imagine him telling her what happened on the terrace, piecing together bits of the truth before I can explain it myself.

I edge closer to the door, straining to make out the words, but they’re too muffled through the wood. Eilish says something I can't hear, followed by a quiet laugh that doesn't sound upset or angry or betrayed.

Relief moves through me so fast I almost sag against the frame before I push the door open. “Eilish, I need to tell you something about me and Fionn⁠—”

The words are out before I see the room properly.

Eilish is on the bed, naked, the sheet twisted around her hips, her hair loose over one shoulder, her eyes going wide with the same horror that slams through me when she turns.

Beneath her is Lorcan Harrington.

Fionn’s cousin.

For a second, all the air leaves the room. I stay in the doorway, stunned, while Eilish sits frozen, straddling Lorcan, who looks from me to her with a smirk on his face.

“Oh, shit… Sorry,” I say. “Bad timing…”

“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” Eilish replies. “Cover for me if anyone asks where I am.”

I stare at her, then at him, then at the floor. “Of course. I’ll tell them we got covered in champagne, and you’re changing your dress.”

Lorcan clears his throat. “What were you about to say about you and Fionn?”

My eyes snap to him. “Can you please not talk to me when you’re still inside my best friend?”

“What happened to your dress, Sera?” Eilish frowns.

My stomach drops because Lorcan heard me mention Fionn’s name, and Eilish notices the state I’m in.

“You two carry on as you were.” I lunge sideways and grab my overnight bag from the floor beside the dresser. “Pretend I was never here.”

I back into the hallway and pull the door closed, leaving Eilish to whatever happiness she’s managed to steal for herself.

I should be shocked that she picked Lorcan, but he has that Harrington arrogance down to a fine art and a roughness he makes no effort to hide.

What I feel first is relief, strange and warm beneath the panic, because she’s screwing Lorcan, flushed and messy and alive in a way I haven’t seen her since this engagement started closing around her throat.

She’s sticking up her middle finger to the misogynist world she was born into.

Despite all that, Lorcan’s smirk flashes through my head, and the relief curdles.

I said Fionn’s name.

They both saw my dress.

I came upstairs ready to confess because Eilish deserved the truth, but Lorcan makes one thing brutally clear. The truth doesn’t just hurt people in this world.

It gets them killed.

By the time I reach the landing, I know two things.

I won’t be Fionn Harrington’s plaything while he rebels against marriage, and he can’t be my dangerous obsession.

I dig out my phone from my bag. Eilish’s name is pinned above Rafe’s because she’s always been the first person I tell everything to, but tonight I scroll past her and message my brother to come pick me up.

Tomorrow, I’ll have to tell her I fucked Fionn at her birthday party and I have no idea how that conversation will go.