Page 32 of The Chief
My panic attack was well and truly underway now, so much so I couldn’t even think of fighting against him. Instead, I sank into his warmth, savoring the strength of his arms. He was a bastard, but right now, I needed him.
“Orla,” I whimpered.
“She’ll be fine,” Keir said softly. “I promise.”
I blinked my tear-soaked eyes at him, wondering how he could make those kinds of statements with such certainty. He was hard and unyielding, but then he showed me this side of himself—a softer side—and though I wanted to hate him, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
“Breathe, Jynx,” he urged.
I inhaled sharply, acutely aware I hadn’t taken in a full breath since I’d pieced things together in Finnan’s office.
“Good. And another.”
Keir’s calm instructions made my panic ease. I took in another breath, deeper this time, and let the oxygen fill my lungs before I exhaled. My racing heart slowed as the hysteria which had almost engulfed my body receded.
“Keep those beautiful eyes on me, Jynx,” he coached. “That’s right. Focus on me. One more breath for me. That’s good.”
The last of my fear sloughed off me, and I blinked up at him. We now stood just inside his bedroom, and the scent of him filled my nostrils. I wanted to kick my own ass for once again finding comfort in his arms.
“How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” I snapped, trying to wriggle free of his grip.
As he let me down, the feeling of being wrung out hit me like a sledgehammer—emotionally drained and exhausted. Crossing my arms over my chest, I stared at him, letting my wariness of being alone with a man fill me once more. “I need to leave.”
He heaved out a sigh and leaned against the closed door. “I know.”
“Are you going to let me go?” Hope flickered to life in my chest. Maybe Keir wasn’t so bad after all.
“I can’t let you walk out of here, Jynx,” he replied, resignation clear in his tone.
“Why not?”
“Because you’re the enemy.”
My anger flared—hot and sudden. “The fuck I am. I was only doing what I needed to keep my family safe.”
His expression hardened. “And in doing so, you made an enemy of the Mac Tíre Clan.”
“So, what? You’re going to keep me chained to you for the rest of our lives.”
A small smile curled in the corner of his mouth. “If that’s what has to happen,” he replied, slipping out the door.
The click of the lock sounded like the next nail in my metaphorical coffin.
Chapter 12
Keir
Ipounded on Orin’s door and waited for the Reaper to answer.
“What?” he barked, the door remaining stubbornly shut.
“Need to borrow something.”
“Fuck off.”
“Come on, man. I just need to borrow a set of cuffs.”
