Page 53 of Whiskey & Witches

“Damned if I don’t as well,” Carrick said with a whole lot of resentment. “He’s made a completehaymesof this, all the same.”

“You have a decision to make,” Damian told the O’Malleys.

Carrick’s brows shot up. “Whether to kill and bury him or let him leave here alive?”

“Okay, you have two decisions to make,” Damian returned smoothly.

Ronan snorted and shook his head. “The only thing they need to decide right now is whether or not to have you heal what I made a right bag of.”

Damian met Roisin’s worried eyes. “Will you trust me to fix it?”

Roisin turnedover the question in her mind.Would she?So far, Damian Dethridge had been a proper host, seemingly kind and caring. More importantly, he’d treated her son with respect and made him feel comfortable. Ronan watched her with an odd expression, wariness mixed with deep regret. It was disconcerting to learn he’d rescued her more than once.

The warmth of Carrick’s hand gave her the strength she needed, and she nodded her agreement. “Yes, please.”

“Okay. Sit back and let me examine you.” Shifting to rise, Damian placed his drink on the coffee table and gestured toward the French doors. “Gentlemen, if you’d be so kind as to step outside. I’d like to limit distractions.”

Ronan climbed to his feet, but Carrick remained seated.

“I’ll stay with my wife.” His tone held no compromise.

“Carrick,” she said softly, stroking the back of his hand. “It’s all right. You should probably check on Aeden.”

“He should be fine with Sabrina,” Damian assured her.

Ronan half-turned from where he waited at the terrace doors. “Did you not direct them to play upstairs?”

Roisin almost laughed when the Aether swore and stalked toward him.

“That little beastie will be the death of me,” Damian ground out.

Joining him, Roisin and Carrick peered out the window in time to see Aeden hug Sabrina and wipe the tears from her eyes. Her heart caught in her throat at the sight, and she squeezed her husband’s hand. “He’s made a friend, Carrick!”

“Aye,” he said roughly, his voice thick with emotion. More than once, he’d voiced worry over Aeden’s self-imposed isolation. To see him exit his cocoon was heartening. “Ro, before—” he gestured to Damian “—I’d like to have a word. About Aeden.”

Understanding dawned. She nodded and squeezed his hand, then went outside when Ronan opened the door for her. Waiting until the door clicked behind her, she faced Ronan on the patio. “I can’t say I’m happy with you for taking my memories, but I owe you a debt of gratitude for saving us from the wreck and then me from Seamus and Moira at your castle.” She gave him a half-smile. “Thank you, Ronan.”

“I can’t apologize enough for what you and your son were put through, Roisin, but I’ll do what I can to make sure nothing else happens to either of you.”

Her heart began to pound uncomfortably in her chest. “And Carrick?”

The long, silent moments as Ronan gazed out at the children were agonizing. Finally, he looked down at her. “And Carrick.”

She hadn’t been aware of holding her breath until it whooshed out, and she was forced to take another.

His lips twitched as if he knew he’d tortured her with his silence, but his eyes were sad when he said, “After speaking to both you and Damian, I’ve come to realize that bleedin’ prophecy was always going to come to pass. The O’Malleys will have no more trouble from me.” His mouth tightened into a grim line a second before he said, “But I can’t speak for Moira and Seamus, mind. They’re as mad as hatters when it comes to this situation, and as unpredictable. I’ll do what I can to mitigate their actions, but stay alert to their special brand of mischief, yeah?”

She worried her lip and glanced at the children. Sabrina was making up for Aeden’s standard silence by happily chatting away. “I’ll murder anyone who hurts my son.”

“Sure, and you tried to kill Seamus in my home. Wet his pants, he did.” Ronan gave a wicked little laugh. “The little shite deserved it, no doubt, but I couldn’t let that be on your conscious.”

“And what about you, Ronan O’Connor? Do you have death on your conscious?”

“Aye. Your sister’s.” He looked so guilt-ridden, Roisin’s heart would’ve ached for him had he not been instrumental in Meg’s demise. “I should’ve guessed at Moira and Seamus’s plan or hired a surveillance team to keep me informed of their whereabouts. It’s sorry I am for your loss, Roisin. And I won’t ask your forgiveness because I don’t deserve it.”

“But I’m giving it to you anyway,” she said softly, placing a hand on his folded arms. “Maybe Meg’s death is partially your fault, but you’ve sworn time and again, you don’t make war on women and children. You’ve also saved my life and that of my son. I might be a fool, but I trust you to hold to your promise.”

“I believe yours might be the most lovely soul I’ve ever encountered, Roisin Byrne-O’Malley. I hope Carrick realizes what a treasure he has in you.”

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