Favorite color?
Favorite food?
It seemed like he had to think about each one. Dig down deep and find out who he was. I felt like it was an exercise in not only me getting to know him, but him getting to know himself. Beyond destroying Oran Craig, he didn’t seem to think about much else before I stormed through his door.
He had questions for me too. Mostly about my childhood. I told him some stories my dad had told me about my mom. And I told him all the things I enjoyed doing as a kid. How my dad had taught me how to woodwork, and that all my toys were carved by him.
Looking back, it was kind of odd, but I could never remember wanting things other kids had. Like plastic dolls. Maybe because my dad had read children’s stories to me. And if those didn’t do, he made them up. Then he’d carve the little figures for me to play with.
The only thing I’d ever missed having was a mom. My mom.
I asked Cian if he ever thought up wild stories. He’d stopped talking for so long, and I wondered if that had led to him having a vivid imagination. Maybe he used to dream of a different life to cope with the one he had.
It seemed like I might have hit a sore spot. His eyes grew distant for a while. Then he shook his head and said, “Before their deaths. Yeah. After. Loneliness comes to mind—if that’s what I’m feelin’ when I think back.”
“What does it feel like?”
“An ache.” He touched his chest. “Here.”
I never wanted to let his hand go after that.
He didn’t seem to mind. There was something different about him out on the road. It was like he wasn’t caught up in the tragic sadness that waited in the shadows of the castle.
I understood why he didn’t sell the place—it had meant a lot to his dad—but I almost wondered if Boston wouldn’t be a better place for him. It didn’t hold so many dark memories. It seemed like a beacon. If he could conquer it, and Oran in the process, he’d have his revenge, and the entire city would be his.
Because of how fast everything had unraveled for us, then started to come together in a different shape, I hadn’t given much thought to what this meant for me.
I was the Beast of Boston’s wife.
What role would I play in his story?
I refused to be Shay. She didn’t fit me. I refused to suck myself in to fit a version of her. I’d just have to figure out a way to make it work—on my own terms. I didn’t mind existing in the shadow of Cian’s life. And maybe that was for the best, given the kind of life that accompanied the lifestyle.
It was going to be hard. I could be his gentle.
He was going to need the reminder that he was a man, not a beast. That he was human, not a ghost. That the sun would always come out after a storm.
“You’ve been quiet.” As loud as he could get when he roared, he always kept his voice down when he spoke. It was low and gruff and had a hint of gravel to it.
It made goosebumps appear on my arms.
His eyes were on the road, but his brow was furrowed. He was always worried about me. If I kept quiet for too long, he thought something was wrong. I could see how he’d assume that. I’d set the tone for our relationship in the beginning by talking so much. Because he never said anything.
A slow smile spread on my face. “I’m just thinking about what a great time I’m having.” The future could wait. I wanted to concentrate on the present. “All the places we’ve been, all the things we’ve seen and done…I never thought I would. Thank you. I’ll never forget it.”
His brow eased, and he nodded once. He glanced at me and returned the smile—in his way. It was almost like a grimace, but he was trying. I’d even caught him in the bathroom massaging his cheeks, like his smile was broken and he was trying to fix it.
There was a piece of my heart that would forever be broken for him and all he’d missed.
There was also a special place in hell for Oran Craig and the men he sent to do his hellish bidding. The men who stole it all away from him.
My stomach made an obnoxious noise, and his eyes whipped to mine.
I shrugged. “It’s been a while since we last ate.”
We’d been driving for hours. Usually, we just stopped whenever we decided to, then we’d explore until we decided to leave. It was bliss. The freedom in it. I’d never had that before. I was always stuck in a box so deep, crawling was my only way out of it.
Cian had told me we were in Derry, in the North of Ireland. Night had fallen, and the stars were out. The weather was somewhat tepid, and it was windy. I fixed the silk scarf around my hair and burrowed into my light sweater, staring out the open window for a place we could stop.
