Page 29 of Dylan
His words and voice shoot straight to my core. My head hurts so bad, I can only wrap my arms around his neck and hold on as he moves with me in his embrace.
I feel more than see that we’re moving up a flight of stairs. He tightens his arms around me possessively. His warm breath continues to fan my skin.
“Oh my God, is she okay? Should I call EMS?”
I recognize the voice as the woman from the phone, Taegan. I can’t open my eyes to see what she looks like, but that accent is as thick as it was over the phone, if not more so. I’m trying my best to will the pain away.
“No. Her brother says it will pass,” the guy carrying me says.
He lowers into a seat and places me in his lap. My skin tingles as he brushes my hair from my face and palms my cheek. Slowly, I open my eyes.
I gasp as I look into the same eyes I’ve drawn hundreds of times. He smiles at me and places his forehead to mine as he holds my face between his warm, tape-covered palms.
“Is tusa atá ann. Fuair mé thú faoi dheireadh, mo chroí, mo ghrá. Táim anseo. Coinneoidh mé slán thú, tabharfaidh mé aire duit. Ní chaillfidh mé thú arís choíche,” he breathes.
He’s not speaking English, but in the back of my mind, I know I should understand him. A gasp fills the room, causing me to turn. My gaze lands on a tiny redhead who’s watching us.
“Shut the fuck up. Ya have to be fucking kidding me. It’s her? Jesus, Mary, Joseph, what are the chances she’s walked right into yer gym?” she says in awe.
“What’s going on? Cee, should I call Miss Vega or Miss Daliah?”
“Ciarán, no. I’m fine. Please stop talking. Um, thank you,” I say as I stand from this guy’s lap.
“Ciara, wait,” he says, freezing me in my tracks.
I haven’t told anyone about that name. I close my eyes and try to latch onto what my mind is telling me he said.
It’s you. I’ve finally found you, my heart, my love. I’m here. I’ll keep you safe, I will take care of you. I’m never going to lose you again.
“Gaelic. You’re speaking Gaelic. I know Gaelic?”
I shake my head as if to clear it. In that memory, I had an accent like he did. Where did my accent come from?
Why did Theo make sure I lost mine? He could never tell me how I got it. He only corrected it until it was all but gone.
He stands and towers over me, placing his hand on my hip to draw me closer to him. I tilt my head back and look up into his familiar blue eyes. I place my palms against his abs and bite my lip.
“Yes, you know Gaelic. You don’t remember? You don’t remember me?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I’m sorry. Thank you for looking after my brother and for your help. I need to go.”
I grab Ciarán by the arm and drag him with me as I race from the office we’re standing in. My head is still throbbing a bit, but I can at least see where I’m going.
“Hey. Hey, love. Wait. Ach, please, hold on.”
I freeze as we get to the bottom of the stairs, but I don’t turn around to face her. I don’t know this girl or that guy back there who seems to know me. She places her hand on my arm, causing me to turn slightly.
“I’m Taegan. We spoke earlier.”
I nod. She licks her lips and her brows furrow on her pretty face. She and I are probably the same height without my heels on.
“Listen, ya owe me nothing and ya don’t know me from a can of paint, but that big lad back there has been my best friend since high school and there’s only two things in this world more important to him than me and this gym. That’s his family and you.
“Yer the Ciara Walsh he’s been trying to get back to Ireland to find since he was a young lad. He’s been trying to get back to ya for most of his life.” She holds up her hands as I go to cut her off. “Hold on, love. I get it. Something has happened to keep ya from remembering him.
“I want ya to take me card. If ya need anything and I do mean anything. Ya give me a call.”
I take the card and read it: Taegan Quinn, Executive Assistant. I look back up at her.
