I close my eyes as I let out a breath.
God, hearing those words feels like a break in the storm.
"I love you too, Ciara. So fucking much. And more than telling the words to your face, I want to show it to you. Every fucking day. So, wait for me,Tine Bheag. I’ll be home as soon as I can so you can tell it to me again and again.”
“Yeah?” Ciara’s voice is hesitant.
She exhales on the other end of the phone as if she was scared I wouldn’t say them back. But if anything, those three words don’t feel like enough. They barely scratch the surface of what I feel for Ciara.
“Yeah, sweetheart.”
But as much as I want to cling to the words, the dark clouds are drawing in closer, and I’m running out of time.
Looking down at the mutilated body at my feet, I know that I would take that pain a thousand times over for her. I would have my blood paint the walls before anyone ever laid a hand on my wife. Because a world without me in it would probably be better off, but a world without Ciara?
That’s not a world I want to live in.
Chapter Thirty-Two
CIARA
Standingat the window in the living room, I look outside at the line of black SUVs that crowd the circular driveway. The estate is lit up by spotlights as men with earpieces pace the perimeter.
Stephen appears in the doorway to give Kieran yet another update. “My guys have just finished another full sweep of the grounds. And I’ve doubled the guards.”
Kieran paces back and forth in front of the fireplace. “Triple it. I want someone stationed outside every damn room.”
I look between them. “Is all this really necessary?”
“Yes, it is. Ronan would kill me if anything happened to either of you. Not that he would have the chance because I would never forgive myself either.”
I nod at Kieran as Stephen continues with his update, which I only half listen to.
Mila clutches a hand over her mouth. “I think I’m going to throw up.”
“Let’s get you to a bathroom,” I put a hand around her waist and guide her toward the door.
When Stephen falls into step behind us, I turn around.
“Seriously?”
He shrugs. “Ronan’s orders.”
“I think she can throw up alone.”
“I know she can.”
“It’s okay, Ciara,” Mila assures me. “You don’t need to see this.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“Ciara,” she says more firmly, and I let out a sigh.
“Fine.”
“I’ll wait outside the door.” Stephen follows Mila out of the room.
When they are gone, I walk toward the kitchen.
