Even when he pulled back and brushed my hair away from my face, stooping to look into my eyes as he told me he had to leave, that he had to go and handle Donegal’s business, there were no tears. I stared at him dully, tired all at once of fighting. Of being on edge and scared and unhappy. I tipped my chin to him.
“You’re leaving now.”
“I don’t want to.”
“But you’re leaving.” He didn’t reply. There was no need. “And you have no idea how long you’ll be gone?”
His hands were moving, restless on my cheekbones, my hair, the shape of my skull. “Remember when Donegal told you that I would be disciplined?” I encircled my wrist with my hand, and he caught it, gripped it tight. “He’s sending me to Ireland. I don’t know how long I’ll be there—until he’s satisfied, I believe.”
“Can I—”
“No.” The word was sharp. “This is something I have to do alone. Just…” He looked down the hall, at Kael standing in the doorway. “…think of it as a deployment. Iwillbe back for you, Emery. And I’ll make good on this promise when I return.” He kissed the finger that bore his ring.
Tightness gripped my chest. How many times would he kill me? “Go, damn you,” I said. “Do what you need to do.”
“Macushla…”
I held up a hand. “Don’t. Don’t call me your vein and split me open to spill out at your feet. Just…go.”
His features hardened and he bent to kiss me. I turned my face and it landed on the corner of my mouth. “I love you, Emery Lane. And Iwillbe back for you.”
He touched my cheek lightly, then stepped away and walked down the hall to the front door. I watched him leave, closing the door behind him, and then I slid to my ass on the floor. I barely noticed when the agents led Paul from his office in Brodie’s wake, refused to acknowledge Kael’s concern as he hovered for a minute over me. His hand settled, warm with comfort, on the top of my head. Then he, too, was gone, and I was alone.
And there were no tears.
