All they got from me was silence, but that was to be expected. I’d been buried in the fourth spot next to them. The weight of that patch of grass was still on top of me. I could still smell the dirt in my nose and my own vomit. I still felt the bite marks from the bugs and could swear they were eatin’ away at my flesh—second by second.
My body moved about the world with the reminders, but my soul was buried six feet under. I’d left it there, knowing one day I’d be back to collect it.
Some men claim there is no heaven or hell. Just where our feet happen to land in this reality. I couldn’t accept that belief, or any, because lookin’ up from the ground was all I could remember.
All I had was that moment.
This one.
The next one.
To seek vengeance.
On a wintry night in Boston, I found the truth.
There are two levels to this world.
Hell would be where she didn’t exist.
Heaven—I glanced at Maeve—was her.
She gave me hope that my parents and my brother or sister were drownin’ in the love they had for each other.
Quietly, as if she didn’t want to disturb anythin’, Maeve stood. She barely brushed my hand when she moved around me, comin’ to stand behind my back. Her touch was softer than the wind’s when she lifted my shirt and traced the cross on my back.
She realized the truth, and she tried to move me from my spot, but I refused to be moved. I stood where I’d hid that night—where the fourth cross would have been if Craig’s men would have found me. It was the one tattooed on my back. It had no name. Just a matchin’ date.
“You. Are. Not. Dead.” Each of her words were whispered but punctuated by anger tinged with anguish. “You. Don’t. Belong. Here. You belong with me.” She started to cry.
No one had ever cried for me like that. And for the first time, I felt somethin’ I hadn’t remembered feelin’ before.
Guilt.
I never wanted to see her hurt. I’d kill to stop it. But I didn’t know how. I gave her this because what was mine was hers, and she needed to know the truth about me since she’d be spendin’ eternity with me.
Her forehead rested on my back and her arms came around my chest. “You’re not dead, Cian. Please believe me. I feel you.” She held me tighter, placin’ her hand over the spot where my heart should be. “You’re with me. Right here. Right now. No matter what happened here—and, oh, God, I can only imagine, even if itkillsme to—you’re safe with me. I love you, Cian.
“You know what that means? You get to live while we still have life to share, and even after it’s over, we still get to have each other. That’s what love means. Our souls get so tangled, we never have to let go. But until that day, we’re here, together, and you’re going tolivewith me.”
She cried as she kissed my back. I entwined our fingers together like she’d done earlier. Everythin’ I was learnin’ about love and life, I was learnin’ from her. Because I was so fuckin’ lost, and not knowin’ how to make her better was killin’ me all over again.
“You fight in a war for what you need to heal—and I’ll fight for you, Cian O'Callaghan. I’ll fight to keep you here with me. That’smyvow to you.”
I’d never uttered a word on this sacred ground until then. “I am dead, have been for years. But you, Maeve O’Callaghan, you are my life. I live as long as you do.”
Keepin’ her arms around me, she moved to my front, lookin’ up into my eyes with her doe ones. The hood had blown back from the wind, and her hair was as wild as a spinnin’ tornado. Her eyes glowed from the light of the moon. Her face was pale against the darkness of her hair. Tears rolled down her cheeks. I used my thumbs to dry them.
“We understand each other then.” Gone was the weakness in her voice—she’d taken her anger and anguish and turned it into steel.
“We do,” I agreed.
She took my hand, leadin’ me away from my spot, and we walked back to the castle, our pulses as in sync as our bodies.
Chapter15
Maeve
It had been two weeks since our wedding.
