“Who raised you?” I ask, since his parents obviously didn’t.
“My only living grandparent, Grandpa O’Rourke. He was also the Gaelic Devils’ leader until I came of age. He passed on a few years before my brother’s betrayal. I’m glad he didn’t have to witness all of that.” He falls silent, pensive.
“Oh?” I prompt. “He may have helped you.”
Cian shakes his head. “Nah, he would have called me a damned fool. He never liked Shawn. Which only added to my brother’s jealousy. But Grandpa O’Rourke warned me about Shawn once, told me he saw envy in his eyes, but I didn’t pay him much mind. So I have only myself to blame for being blindsided like that.”
“It’s hard to believe when those who are supposed to be our closest allies become our enemies instead.” I know it all too well.
Papa and Matteo should have taken care of me. Protected me. Instead, I suffered their abuse. Until now. Marrying Cian is my escape.
“How about you?” he asks. “Tell me about your family.”
“Uh. My sister and I are close. We’re quite a few years younger than Matteo, so he never really paid us much attention. Unless it was to torment me for his amusement. I’m actually close with my three cousins. They are like sisters to me. The five of us girls always have each other’s backs.”
“You’re lucky to have such a big, close family. I envy that,” he admits.
“We’re not all close. I mean, my father and Uncle Davide don't really get along outside of family business. And you know how much of a problem Matteo was for everyone, except Papa who was the one to groom him.”
Cian glances at me. “Are you saying your brother was a monster because that’s what your father turned him into?”
“I don’t really know. Matteo was always… different. Mean. I think Papa just encouraged him to be himself.”
He leans his elbows on the table, his stare unrelenting. “What did he do to you, Elena?”
My gut twists at my sister’s name. Every time he calls meElenait’s a reminder of my long list of lies. My biggest lie of all. I hate it.
“As I’m sure you understand,” I glance pointedly at his chest, “I don’t really want to talk about the details.”
Silence hangs in the air between us.
After a moment, he sits back. “Fair enough. How about a truth for a truth? I’ll answer one of your questions and then you’ll answer one of mine.”
That’s tempting. Do I want to give him the gritty details? In exchange for knowing more about him, it might be worth it. I hesitate, chewing on a slice of orange, then nod.
“You can go first.” How generous of him.
“Okay. Why did your brother and ex-fiancée do that to you? Why not just kill you quickly and move on with their lives?” I mean, from what I’ve seen, the damage is extensive. They had to have tortured him for days and days.
My stomach twists and I’m no longer hungry. The rest of the orange falls to my plate.
“That’s two questions.”
I realize he’s right. “Fine. I’ll roll it into one. Why did they torture you instead of just killing you and being done with it?”
He thinks on that for a moment. “Because my brother, Shawn, was like yours. And I didn’t realize it before then, but my ex got off on the same shit.” He clears his throat. “I lost count of how many times they fucked in front of me, covered in my blood, while I lost consciousness. It was their ultimate high. They wanted it to last for as long as possible.”
My lips part in shock and my stomach heaves.Oh my god.
“Cian—”
He shakes his head, cutting me off. “I’ve answered your question.”
“Thank you.” I reach across the table, taking his hand in mine and giving it a gentle squeeze. I’m grateful when he doesn’t pull away, because right now I desperately need to touch him, to give him whatever small comfort he’ll let me. “It’s your turn.”
“How did your brother hurt you?” His lips press into a thin line.
Of course he’d ask that. I’m somewhat prepared to answer.
