Damien (Slater Brothers #5)(103)

Silence.

“Bronagh?”

She cleared her throat. “What d’ye mean?”

I could hear the doubt in her voice, and it made me feel ill.

“Damien was busy doin’ somethin’ with Kane last night, and he never came to stay over, but he won’t tell me what he was doin’. I thought maybe you’d know.”

“I don’t know,” she answered too quickly for it to be the truth. “I’ve no idea.”

I frowned. “Okay, Bee.”

“I’ve gotta go,” she said. It was the first time I’d ever felt brushed aside by her. “Talk to you later.”

“Okay, I’ll—”

I cut myself off when I realised the line went dead because Bronagh hung up on me. I pulled my phone away from my ear and stared at it like it was a foreign object. She had never hung up on me before, brushed me aside so easily, or blatantly lied to me as she had just done. My mind went into overdrive, and to stop myself from creating a problem, I phoned Aideen and Keela, but they didn’t answer me, and neither did Branna. All three of them hung up on me; I knew that because the call rang out, then suddenly cut off like they pressed the decline button. Bronagh said she was with them, so they obviously had heard her on the phone with me.

Doubt instilled itself in my mind as I thought of my friends. Instantly, my mind separated me from them and picked apart every little thing that was different about us until I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

Bronagh was the fire, Branna was the calm, Keela was the fun, Aideen was the wild, and me? I was nothing. I didn’t fit in with these women. They knew it, I knew it, even the brothers knew it, but none of them seemed to mind.

I did, though.

I minded that there was always a lingering feeling in my subconscious that I was the odd one out, like they all knew something I didn’t. All the hushed conversations I’ve had to endure, all the confusing answers I received when I asked a question about the brothers’ past, the abrupt end to a sentence whenever I entered the room to now being lied to when I asked a simple question.

My ‘friends’ and boyfriend were keeping something from me; the only question was ... what?





“I don’t think I should leave.”

I looked at Morgan and tried to focus my attention on him.

“I’m fine, Morgan.”

“You’re not,” he argued softly. “I can tell you’re not.”

“Okay, I’m not particularly great today, but it’s nothin’ I can’t handle. I promise.”

He hesitated. “Are you goin’ to go around to your mates?”

“Probably.”

“Will you talk to them about what’s botherin’ you?”

It was my turn to hesitate.

“You won’t, will you?” he asked, seemingly shocked. “No matter how much you doubt them, you won’t confront them … will you?”

“Confront them about what?”

He was confusing me more than I already was. I thought he was going to answer my question, but Morgan started to laugh. Not like an amused laugh, more like a manic laugh. One that kept on building and building and had no end in sight. It frightened me. Morgan, at that moment, frightened me.

“Your shift is over,” I said, reminding him he had to leave. “I don’t wanna keep you any longer than necessary.”

“You aren’t keeping me from anything,” he assured me. “You are why I’m here.”

His voice changed slightly, and he pronounced his words clearer, which drew my brows together.

“Are you talkin’ about work?”

“No, Alannah, I’m not.”

Apprehension shot up my spine.

“I’m confused.”

“I know.” Morgan nodded. “I planned on keeping you confused and in doubt for as long as possible, but I pity you, angel.”

Angel?

“Okay, Morgan, you aren’t makin’ any sense.”

He sighed, long and deep.

“I can’t keep this shit up anymore.”

I stared at him, raising my brows.

“Morgan, what are you talking about?”

“My name isn’t Morgan Allen, angel.”

I stared at him, then I laughed.

“Ha-ha, you’re hilarious.” I shook my head. “Can we get back to work now if you aren’t leavin’?”

“I’ll gladly get back to work once we have a little chat.”

I looked up from my sketchpad.

“Why are you talkin’ in that accent?” I asked, perplexed. “I don’t get the joke if you’re makin’ one.”

“Alannah,” he said, his lips twitching. “You’re a sweetheart. Honestly, babe, a true sweetheart. I wanted to use you to hurt him, to hurt them, but fuck, you don’t have the backbone required to stand up to the lying assholes. No matter what I say to make you doubt them, you won’t confront them or leave them.”

I hurriedly began to pack my supplies away.

“I’ve no bloody idea what you’re talkin’ about. None.”

“I’m going to be straight with you, angel, because someone in your life should be.”

I paused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”