Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 90919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“Out!”
She left, but Frankie stayed.
“Hey Myla,” she said seriously, leaning against the doorframe.
“What?”
“You know I love you?” she asked, lowering her voice.
“Fuck off,” I said, snorting as she cackled and scurried away.
I threw the blankets off with a sigh and arched out of bed, swaying on rubbery legs as I got ready for work.
Chapter 15
Cian
“Myla okay?” Bas asked as I pulled my coveralls down.
I was actually surprised it had taken so long before he or Titus cornered me.
“She’s good,” I replied, tying the arms around my waist. The sleeves kept catching inside the engine I was working on, and it was driving me fucking nuts.
“Noel said she was pretty upset,” he muttered, taking a drink of his water.
“Cleared it up.”
“You two fightin’ again?”
“Nope.”
“Really?”
“You’re worse than a woman.”
“All men are worse than women, we just hide it better.”
“Truth,” I mumbled. “She’s good. We’re good.”
“How good?”
“Are you fuckin’ jokin’?” I asked, glaring.
“Lou said you didn’t leave until this mornin’,” he replied, grinning.
“Christ,’ I spat, shaking my head as I turned back toward the car.
“Got a little pep in your step today,” Bas joked.
“Keep it down, would you?” I asked, reaching back inside.
“Hell, everyone knows you two were gonna get together.”
“Doubt her brothers or dad or uncles or fuckin’ cousins wanna know I slept in her bed last night,” I replied quietly. “Leave it alone.”
“Whose bed?” Brody asked from one bay over. “It better be Myla’s or she’s gonna murder you.”
“Can I fuckin’ work?” I asked, looking between them. “That all right with you two?”
“Testy,” Bas joked. “Seems like you’d be in a better mood.”
“When you gonna finally make a move on Lou, Bas?” I asked, my gut twisting when the jab hit its mark, and Bas’s face fell.
“Low blow.”
“Sorry, can you just—”
“I’m gone,” Bas replied, walking away.
“Such a sweet talker,” Brody called.
I flipped him off and went back to work.
The funny thing? I was in a good mood—or at least as good of a mood as I was able at the moment. Waking up next to Myla had been the highlight of my goddamn life.
But the moment I’d left her room, the weight of everything else had come crashing down around me. Aoife had called in a panic just as I’d climbed off my bike outside the garage, asking me if I knew if the US Marshals would call her if the Smith organization got to Richie. How was she supposed to live not knowing if he was alive or not? I didn’t have any answers for her—I had no fucking clue how it all worked.
We didn’t snitch, and if we did, we dealt with the consequences. Witness protection? What a fucking joke.
I’d calmed her down and got off the phone just in time for Ronan to call me saying he was going to drop out of his program and move. His shit wouldn’t transfer, and they weren’t willing to work with him, and he couldn’t stand being away from everyone. I wanted to tell him to stick it out, that things would get easier, but I kept my mouth shut. I’d felt homesick when I left, and it had gotten easier—but I’d left behind a fully intact and thriving family. Ronan was separated from our sisters who were a complete fucking mess at the moment, and we’d just lost Richie. I could understand the instinct to be as close to them as possible. If they hadn’t moved out to the property, I would’ve still been sleeping on Aoife’s couch.
The girls were settling in. They were finding routines. Saoirse was back at work, and Aoife was searching for a job. Aisling still had quite a bit of healing to do before she could go back, but I knew she’d sent out feelers to a few tattoo shops in town, checking for openings. Aunt Ashley was the only one who seemed to be stuck in place, but she could take off in her motorhome whenever she wanted. She was choosing to stay close by for the time being.
Shit was moving forward already, slowly, sure, but it was happening.
It still felt like there was a noose around my neck.
“I’m grabbin’ a burrito from the truck,” Leo called out a while later, distracting me from the thoughts that spun around and around with no end in sight. “Who wants one?”
Random orders were called out as I straightened and checked the clock. Most of the time I worked through lunch so I could get off earlier, but my stomach was growling. I glanced at Leo, debating whether or not I wanted to send an order with him or just run somewhere myself as I strode over to the industrial sink at the back.
I wasn’t sure if getting a questionable burrito from a truck was the best idea a few hours before I took Myla out to dinner.