“Would you?”
“Of course. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”
It’s all I can do to offer her a weak smile as my throat is too thick with emotion to speak.
I press a hand to my stomach as I try to come to terms with my new reality.
There is a life growing inside me, a life that I made with Ronan Sullivan of all people.
Suddenly, everything feels different, as if a thread has been pulled and now the whole direction of my life has changed.
I should be overjoyed, but I can’t ignore the fact that Ronan is choosing to shut me out and hide in his anger and grief, leaving me to carry a secret that could ultimately change everything.
Chapter Six
RONAN
I waituntil Ciara’s bedroom door clicks shut upstairs before I leave my office to go in search of something to eat.
I know I’m being ridiculous by avoiding her like this, but I figure not talking is better than another fight, which I honestly don’t have the capacity for right now. My attention needs to remain on finding out who is behind Max’s death, as I know in my gut they will lead me to my father’s killer.
I move through the house like a criminal, not daring to make any sound in case Ciara decides now is the best time for round two.
My stomach growls, and I’ve had a permanent ache behind my eyes ever since I brought the girls back from the hospital, but that might have something to do with the amount of whiskey I’ve been drinking as I work and the next to no sleep I’ve gotten.
It’s probably a good thing that Ciara is keeping her distance because I’m looking more and more like an alcoholic insomniac with each passing day.
As I enter the kitchen, my eyes land on the discarded mugs on the table, and a pang of guilt hits me as I think of Mila.
She’s gone through hell and back over the past two days, and my fighting with Ciara, or lack of it, likely isn’t making her feel better.
But in truth, I can barely stand to look at Mila because the guilt I feel at her brother’s death is suffocating.
If I hadn’t gone over to his apartment in a blind rage and beaten the absolute living shit out of him, he could have had a chance at fighting off his killer. Instead, I did most of the hard work for them and offered Max up on a silver platter.
When Ciara finds out the truth about the role I played in her friend's death, I’m not sure she’ll be able to forgive me.
Bypassing the fridge, I settle on making myself a triple espresso and head straight back into my office. The house is quiet, and I wonder if perhaps the girls have gone back to bed to catch up on some sleep, but I don’t dare risk going to check.
“You’re being an ass,” I mutter to myself as I shoulder the office door open.
It feels like a huge crack is forming in my relationship with Ciara, and soon enough it’s going to run so deep that it’ll tear us apart for good.
I have to fix it, but first, I need to try and find out who the hell is trying to fuck with me.
Setting down my coffee on the desk, I slump down into the leather chair and rub a hand over my face. The stubble over my jaw itches like crazy, but I can’t even justify the time to shave. Every minute that passes, Max’s killer slips further out of reach, and I can’t help but fear that the next time they’re going to target someone a lot closer to me.
Someone like Ciara.
My phone buzzes on the desk, snapping me out of my thoughts, and I glance down to see a message from Kieran.
Anything on your end?
I quickly shoot back a reply.
Nothing. Not even the kidnapper’s fingerprints were useful.
I’ve barely hit send when my phone starts vibrating in my hand with an incoming call from Kieran, and I quickly swipe my thumb across the screen.
