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)
“It’s not that bad.”
Aiofe snorted like a pig and gave me a hug before turning to Myla.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said softly. “Let us know if you need anything.”
“I will,” Myla replied.
I walked my sister to the door and watched her from the porch as she got in her car and drove away. When I came back inside, Lou and Frankie had their arms around Myla, their voices so low I couldn’t hear what they were saying.
Locking the door behind me, I walked toward them.
“Your poor neck,” Lou murmured.
“Are you going to get in trouble?” Frankie asked.
“It’s just sore,” Myla replied. “And no. I already talked to the FBI. They’ll do a formal inquiry, but no. It was clearly self-defense, and they took photos.”
“You should’ve aimed for the leg or something,” Frankie said. I jerked to a stop, not quite sure I’d heard her right. “Then we could’ve each given him a little kick to remember us by.”
“Sorry,” Myla said with a scoff. “I just wanted him to let go of my throat.”
“You never think ahead,” Frankie muttered. “Selfish.”
“It’s a failing,” Myla agreed, letting out a little teary laugh.
“It’s okay, I forgive you,” Frankie replied.
“You should’ve told someone you were going to get the cake,” Lou said softly. “Then we would’ve known—I thought you weren’t there because you were mad at Cian. I didn’t even think—I’m sorry, My.”
“I was only there for a few minutes,” Myla replied, shaking her head a little. “It all happened pretty fast. You guys couldn’t have stopped it.”
I leaned against the wall and waited while they fussed over her some more. Eventually, Lou and Frankie headed to their own rooms and Myla walked over to the sink for a glass of water.
“You pissed?” I asked quietly.
“I’m not sure what I am,” she turned to look at me. “Am I the only one who didn’t know?”
“Ronan and my sisters know,” I replied. “And the club.”
She nodded. “Aisling said something to me about Aoife being in limbo with Richie that first night I went to dinner,” she said softly. “I wondered what she meant. I thought something was wrong with his estate.”
“She probably assumed you knew.”
“Why didn’t I?”
“I didn’t want to talk about it.”
“Cian, we just talked about how you have to tell me shit.” She slammed her glass down on the counter with a thump.
“I didn’t want to talk about it,” I shot back, the urge to argue with her wrestling with the urge to treat her like fine China. She’d been through more that night than anyone should have to go through. I didn’t want to make it worse. I’d never want to make it worse. “It’s like sayin’ Bloody Mary in the mirror or some shit. Felt like talkin’ about it, tellin’ someone else that he’d turned rat would bring that shit to our door or somethin’. The less you knew, the better.”
“How’d that work out for you?” she asked sarcastically.
“Not great.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you even sorry about it?” she asked in disbelief.
“Not tellin’ you?”
“Yes!”
“Yeah, I am.”
“Well, then could you say it?”
“I’m sorry,” I snapped.
“Yeah, that sounds really sincere.”
“I wanted you as far from it as I could get you.” I swiped my hand through the air. “I never wanted any of Richie’s shit to touch you. If you didn’t know anything, you were safer.”
“But I wasn’t.”
“I know,” I roared.
Myla didn’t even flinch.
“But, if I’d known,” she said.
“What could you have done differently?” I asked quietly. I felt like an asshole for yelling.
“Maybe nothing,” she said. “Or maybe I wouldn’t have been so confused, and I would’ve pulled the nine-millimeter faster. Maybe I would’ve realized that something was wrong sooner. I don’t know.”
I looked at the bruises on her throat. Those were on me.
“You’re right,” I replied.
“I’m always right,” she said tiredly. She walked around me and headed toward the hallway. “I’m going to try and get some sleep.” She paused, her back to me. “Oh, yeah, I got your voicemail.”
She may as well have slapped me. I actually would’ve preferred it.
I waited before following her into the room. I needed a few minutes to get my head together. My hands shook with a delayed reaction, and I sat heavily on the couch, curling my fingers into fists before shaking them back out again.
I’d almost lost her. It had come so close.
If she hadn’t been carrying, he would’ve killed her. I knew it without a doubt. He’d known she was mine, and he’d had a score to settle. He was after Richie, sure, but she’d practically fallen into his lap, and a man like that wouldn’t waste an opportunity.
And I’d been at Saoirse’s dinner, pissed at her for not showing up.
Seconds later, I was out the back door and emptying the contents of my stomach in the yard.
I’d fucked up.
When I was finally sure that there was nothing left, I went back inside. The house was quiet as I shut off all the lights and stopped in the bathroom to brush my teeth. My reflection made me wince. I looked haggard as fuck.