Page 55 of Evil Eyed
Teeth sank into my shoulder, locking me against solid granite and concrete. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. Something held my arms down. My legs. Blackness threatened because I couldn’t draw breath. Good. I welcomed it. I flung myself headfirst toward infinity.
Her hand on my cheek. Her fingers stroking over my jaw. Droplets fell on my face like gentle rain, though they tasted salty.
“I’m sorry,” she pleaded, her voice quivering with anguish. “Please forgive me.”
Forgive her? For what? For existing? For loving me when no one else would or could? For becoming my whole world, my entire existence? My own personal hell?
Because to lose her would be the ultimate punishment. I could bear anything. Anything but that.
“Let. Me. Die.”
“Never,” she whispered, pressing her lips to my forehead.
I was broken apart, a wrecked, damaged heap of worthless bits of flesh and bone. Nothing could hold me together any longer. Not without her. She was the sinew and muscle that connected me into a functional, rational man. She connected us all, the conduit that brought selfish, violent, heartless men with a thirst and unlimited capacity for killing—to our fucking knees so we could worship her.
“I need you too much.”
Her words found one small, solid bit that had managed to hold together, and broke it too. A sound tore out of me. Wordless. Hopeless. Agony.
She smoothed her hands over me, kissing my face, her tears wet on my skin. “I know. I’m so sorry. I love you, Aidan. Come back to me, just for a little while. I need you. I need the asshole back. The grumpy, take-no-shit, leave-no-prisoners badass motorcycle guy. Tell me to go luck myself. Threaten to beat my ass with your belt. Growl and stomp and curse and kiss me senseless again. Please. I need you.”
The melody of her soft voice. The stroke of her fingers like butterfly wings. The gentle shower of her tears. Rough rock against my other cheek, abrading my skin. A knee in my back. Teeth in my shoulder, gripping the muscle hard enough it convulsed and quivered. The red haze slowly parted, dissipating like morning fog beneath the force of her shining love.
“I’m here,” she crooned. “I love you.”
I blinked, shaking my head a little to clear the vicious mire clogging the rational side of my brain. The side that knew there was nothing we could do. No escape. We were going to die. Fine. Great. But…
Shewould die too.
My brain stuttered, flinching away. I didn’t mind dying—but I couldn’t bear to watch her suffer.
:I’m not going to die,:she retorted sharply in my mind.:Neither are you. None of us are dying today. Do you hear me?:
:My fucking skull feels like a motherfucking shattered eggshell but aye, I hear you just fine.:
Her joy swept through my mind, relief like rapid hummingbird wings, love shining like Ivarr’s light of truth.:I have a plan.:
I made a sound again, trying for my trademark grunt, but it came out rather anemic. Truth be told, it sounded more like a whimper, not that any of them dared tell me so.
:My thoughts exactly,:Doran replied.:Sorry for the bite. It was the only way I could get you under control.:
The mountain lifted off me. Keane and Ivarr each took an arm and heaved me up to my feet. I wavered like a drunk between them, too dazed to even worry about Evil Eye.
She tucked herself up against me, squeezing her arms around me fiercely, glaring up at me even though her eyes shimmered with tears. “I thought I lost you.”
“I would die for you,” I answered automatically. No hesitation or question in my heart.
“I know,” she whispered against my lips, brushing her mouth back and forth. “But I don’t want you to die. I want you to live.”
I heaved out a sigh. “It would have been fucking easier to die.”
* * *
Heart shredded into ribbons,I watched as Aidan put himself back together. Stack by stack, brick by brick, he rebuilt the thick concrete walls around his heart. He’d given me the key to reach him, so I wasn’t worried that he would lock me out. He needed the wall, even if there was a heavy iron door he’d built just for me. It was as much a part of him as the leather jacket and the dual set of swords.
Holding both blades, Warwick stepped closer and offered them to him.
Grim, Aidan stared back at him, his face drawn and hollowed as if he’d been suffering a long illness. Accusation and fury flickered through his eyes like fleeting thunderstorms. He’d never liked the leprechaun much, and certainly hadn’t trusted him in the beginning. He’d been counting on Warwick to be my ticket to safety with my last wish. I knew what they’d planned, but they had to know my heart as well.
