Page 67 of Irish Daddies
“I’m calling,” Rian says back calmly, fumbling for his phone. His voice shakes. “We’ll get the driver here. It’s going to be okay.”
No one believes that. Not yet. But I nod against Kellan’s chest, whispering all the words I’ve never said. I tell him he’s brave. That he’s mine. That the twins need him. ThatIneed him.
He wheezes, barely conscious. His lips part, but he doesn’t speak. His breath rattles like leaves in wind.
I smooth his hair back, hands trembling. “I love you. Okay? Ilove you.I don’t know what it means to love you. But I do, I do, Ido.So please stay. Stay with me.”
Across the room, Fionn Crowley’s body lies still in its final sprawl, alone and forgotten. The way it should be.
But I don’t feel triumph. Or vengeance. Not even grief. Just the cold echo of survival.
40
KELLAN
Darkness comesbefore peace or before sleep. There’s no white light, no flashes of my life. There’s just absence, like the world took a step back, and then I feel pain. It’s slicing, smacking me out of my dull haze. It explodes behind my ribs. My side is on fire, my skin is wet and warm, and then the smell hits me next. Blood, sweat, and iron.
I try breathing and regret it instantly as my chest seizes, and I choke on spit.
I open my eyes to blinding light and blurred shapes above me. A voice cuts through the noise, sharp and panicked. “Kellan? Kellan, keep your eyes open. Stay with me, please. Don’t fucking do this.”
Caroline’s voice drags me back from hell, though it’s hard to say if it’s better here, the pain is so intense. I turn toward the sound, groaning at the hot pain clawing in my torso like something alive.
Caroline is over me, tendrils of her hair in my face, tickling my neck. Her eyes are wide, wild with terror. Her face is streaked with blood and makeup and tears, and her mouth trembles.
“You’re awake,” she gasps. “Kellan. Oh my God.”
“Hi,” I rasp. It’s all I can do. I don’t have many syllables left in me.
She lets out a sob and leans over me, her forehead pressing to mine. Her whole body shakes. “I thought you stopped breathing,” she chokes out. “Or maybe you did. You did stop?—”
“Just for a minute,” I whisper. “Wanted a break.”
“Don’t joke.”
“Bad timing?”
Her laugh is sharp and wet and breaks halfway through. “You’re such an asshole.”
I smile faintly. “Takes one to love one,” I say, letting her know I heard her earlier. I heard her say she loved me. I already knew it, but it was nice to hear, even if it’s shaky. I don’t know where we stand. I have a feeling she doesn’t just love me. Really, I know it’s more than me. But I’m willing to share her.
“Shut up,” she whispers, and her hand tightens around mine. “Just shut up and stay here.”
There’s movement all around us—boots on tile, chairs overturned, shouted instructions. I catch glimpses. Declan crouched by the wall, blood on his sleeves. Rian pacing like a caged wolf, his phone pressed to his ear.
And across the room, the still shape of a body.
Our father.Athair.
Gone.
The memory crashes down like a hammer. The gunfire, the jolt in my side, the stunned look on Declan’s face as I fell. The world spinning, tilting, then blackness.
“He shot me,” I say hoarsely. “He really did it.”
Caroline nods, face twisted. “He didn’t even hesitate.”
“Why would he? I was just another pawn.”
