Page 68 of Irish Daddies
“He was punishing me by hurting you,” she says gently, stroking my face with her fingers. My skin lights up where she touches me, and I reach for her. I swipe her waist with my hand, even thought it takes all of my effort.
She closes her eyes like the words gut her. “I never thought he’d?—”
“I did. I knew he would. He’s a monster. He’s always been a monster.”
“I killed him,” she says suddenly. Her voice is hollow and shaky. “I picked up the gun, and I saw him going for Rian, and I just did it. I just pulled the trigger. Guess that makes me one of you now.” She killed him for Rian. Not for me. For Rian. She started with him, and now it’s because of him she’s with us. A pang of jealousy surges through me.
“Good.” I say it flatly, because it is.
She nods into my shoulder. “He deserved it. I don’t regret it. But it doesn’t feel like enough. Not after everything he took from you.”
“Doesn’t have to feel like anything. You pulled the trigger. That’s what matters.”
“I don’t care about that,” she whispers. “I just want you to be okay.”
“We can use it. Tell the Valacchis you killed him to avenge Tino.”
“I don’t care about?—”
“Listen, no, this is good.”
“Kellan, all I want is for you to be?—”
“Listen!” I snap, and the effort of raising my voice shoots through my torso. I grab at it with my hand again, and Caroline tucks her lips into her mouth, silencing herself. “Your life depends on a story, Caroline. We did all this to keep you alive, so you’d better fucking listen. This can buy you protection if you frame it as loyalty to the family. They won’t retaliate.”
“I don’t give a shit about the Valacchis!” she explodes. “I don’t care about the story, or the spin, or the fucking strategy!” Her hands tremble harder, and now she’s crying again—this time not from fear but fury. “I care aboutyou.I care that you’re lying in a pool of your own blood while everyone talks like it’s just another day at the goddamn office.”
She drops her head to my shoulder, her tears hot against my neck. “I thought you were gone,” she whispers. “You were so still. And I just…my brain stopped working. I couldn’t breathe. It was like all my worst fears. I never really thought anyone would die. I couldn’t live with myself if I was why—” Her voice cracks, and she looks away, wiping tears from her face.
“Stop,” I whisper, “I’m still here. Annoyingly so.” I touch her hair, the only part I can touch of her without lifting.
“You keep talking like that, I’m gonna finish what he started.”
“I love your threats.”
She laughs again, but it comes out more like a sob. Her hand slides into mine again, blood still slick between our fingers. “Are you guys going to help me? This really fucking hurts.” Panic starts to rise again as I feel the fire tearing through my abdomen.
“I know. I know it does. The driver is coming. It hasn’t been that long.”
“It feels like I’ve already gone to hell and come back.”
“You would never go to hell,” she says lifting her head. “You’re too good.”
“Caroline,” I whisper, “if you want to love someone like me, you have to admit to yourself that I’m not good.”
“No, I don’t,” she whispers back, petting my hair and kissing my temple, then forehead, then cheek. Everywhere.
Her touch is desperate, trembling. I want to lift my arm and hold her, but I don’t think I can move it. “Your voice brought me back from wherever I was going,” I tell her.
Footsteps again. Declan kneels beside me, shoving gauze and medical tape into a black bag. “Doc’s a minute out,” he says. His face is grim, smeared with blood. His own or mine, I can’t tell.
“Not a driver?” I ask hoarsely.
“You’re losing too much,” he mutters, pressing gauze to my ribs. “We need a transfusion, and fast.”
“He’s going to make it,” Caroline snaps. “He’s going to.”
Declan meets her eyes. “Caroline,” he says gently.
