Kieran slams his fist into the pale blue wall as he lets out a roar so deep and primal that the doctor flinches.
Lorcan lowers his head into his hands, and Brennan exhales as if he’s been kicked in the gut.
And as each of them breaks, I stand tall. Unmoved. Because I can’t allow myself to feel. Because if I feel, I’ll break, I’ll unravel. I’ll be useless. And I can’t let that happen. Not when all of them depend on me now. The family and the business depend on me.
There’s no time for grief when you’re the one who’s supposed to hold everything together.
“Thank you. I appreciate your effort,” I manage to say to the doctor, even though I don’t mean a single word of it.
He lingers for a moment, as if waiting for a bigger reaction from me. But when he gets nothing, he just nods again before disappearing behind the double doors that lead to the surgical floor.
I pull my hands out of my pockets and stare down at the dried blood coating my fingers and caked beneath my nails.
My father’s blood.
This is all my fault. I should have been able to protect my father, I should have seen who shot him, I should have stepped in front of him. But I didn’t, and now his blood is on my hands.
Closing my hands into tight fists, I stop the slight shake that threatens to take over my body.
So much blood…
I need to wash this off. I need to wash this off. I need to wash this off.
“I’ll be back.” I stalk down the hall toward the nearest restroom.
Thankfully, it’s empty, so I turn on the faucet and scrub my hands with soap.
The blood turns the water pink as it disappears down the drain, but I don’t stop when the skin is red and raw. I keep scrubbing, cleaning, until the water runs clear.
Blood is easy to wash off, but grief isn’t, so I don’t stop scrubbing.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror above the sink, but all I can see ishim.
My father is everywhere. In the strong lines of my jaw, in the dark brown of my eyes. Even in the slight wave of my hair as it remains perfectly in place.
I look exactly how my father always told me to look, composed and untouchable.
He raised me to lead because he knew at some point, this day might come. The day where his legacy passes to me, and I have no choice but to honor it with my life.
But before I can go out there and face my responsibilities, there’s one person who isn’t here who needs to be made aware of what’s just happened.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and scroll through my contacts until I reach Cormac’s name.
My second youngest brother is on the other side of the country, probably passed out in a bed with some girl he picked up the night before, completely unaware that our entire family has been torn to shreds.
Ignoring the ache in my chest, I dial the number and wait for Cormac to pick up. But instead, it just rings out.
I clench my jaw as I listen to the automated voicemail message kick in and wait for the beep.
“Cormac, I need you to call me the second you get this. I mean it.” I kill the call.
When I walk back into the waiting room, Kieran is slumped in a chair with his head in his hands, the fire in him starting to extinguish. Brennan stands off to the side with his phone pressed to his ear, no doubt talking to our security.
Once it gets out that my father has been murdered, all hell is going to break loose.
“Where’s Cormac?” Kieran demands when he sees me.
“California. I called, but he didn’t pick up.”
