Something explodes in my chest and I rub at the ache. Hayes trusts me. A man who has put me back together again, held me when I’ve been at my lowest, trusts me. I want to shout it, sing it and sink into the warmth spreading through my chest.
“I just have one request.”
“Anything.”
My sister traces the mouth of the cup with one pale finger. “Don’t hurt him.”
A simple command, but there are many emotions behind it. Not knowing what else to do, I pat her arm kindly and smile.
“Never.”
Standing, she grabs her mug, intent to leave. Before she goes, I call out to her. “What did you do to Roman?”
Stopping at the door, she keeps her back to me as if to hide her sins in the shadows. “I let my inner monster out and killed an entire unit of his men.”I gasp.“You won’t have to worry about him for a while, kid. I made sure of it.”
Maeve killed fifteen men for me.Because Roman tried to come after her sister. There’s a small part of me that wants to feel appalled—but a bigger part, the darkest shade that she knows about, bathes in her love.
This is how she shows she cares. With actions and force.
26
COLLINS
Hurrying upstairs to change, I see Hayes is already dressed. I don’t have time to tell him about my talk with Maeve, so I quickly change.
We drive to the hospital in silence, the sun rising as we enter the city streets, wrapped in the warmth leftover from her admission. With both of them, there’s no way I can be attacked again.
Dillon is less than thrilled with Hayes’ presence, giving him a disrespectful, critical look. Our morbidity run goes like before—only this time, it’s a male with vicious knife wounds to his chest and abdomen.
Some of them are serrated, others short and brutal. The wound at his neck is deep and reminiscent of Maeve’s attack on Julian.It can’t be.
But it’s there. The long slices on his limbs, all the weak points to render a man incapable of fighting back. He was attacked, played with, and made to suffer. My stomach drops.
Casting Hayes a look across the morgue, he winks just once, an answer to my unvoiced question.We did this.Maeve and Killian.
“What can you tell me about the wounds?” Dillion asks, pointing to Franklin. The man’s face is green as he clears his throat.
“Curved. The blade must have been rounded and sharp. Like a claw.”Killian’s knife.
“And around his neck?”
“Not curved. Serrated. The knife had a lot of teeth, like a saw.”Maeve’s personal blade.
Hayes smiles, trying not to laugh. He’s enjoying this while I fight to keep my mouth closed. My family did this—for me.
A normal woman would be beside themselves. Terrified and disgusted. I just feel loved.
“What would you deduce about how or why he died?”
“Robbery,” I interject. Can’t have them thinking it’s organized crime. “Knives are notoriously used in hold-ups.”
Dillion smiles, pleased. “Excellent. Let’s move on to rounds.”
Gripping the table, I exhale as my colleagues head out the room. Hayes is behind them, taking his spot by the door in the hall to wait. I just need five seconds to calm down before putting on my perfect mask and appearing unaffected.
A fucking losing battle as Dillion rounds the dissection table, and leans his hip against the cold metal. “You know you left early the other day,” he begins. “You only get one makeup day before I have to flunk you.”
Shit. “I know. I can come in whenever to make it up. I just had a really bad day—family stuff. And I needed to leave.”
