Seamus finds me in the kitchen the next morning, bleary-eyed and staring into a coffee mug.
“You look like hell,” he says.
“Thanks,” I grumble.
“I heard Cal talked to you last night. Any of it sink in?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, let me pile on some more.” He sits down across from me, and I swallow a groan. My brothers are fucking relentless. “When I almost lost Ava, it was the worst moment of my life. The thought of living without her was worse than any bullet, any knife, any threat I’ve ever faced.”
“That’s my point. You almost lost her because of what we are.”
“And I would have died for her. Still would.” He meets my eyes. “But here’s the thing, Dec. I didn’t push her away. I held on tighter. Because life without her isn’t a life worth living.”
“She’s safer?—”
“No, she’s miserable. Ava’s been keeping tabs on her. Marlowe’s dancing herself to death, barely eating, not sleeping.” Seamus shakes his head. “She’s just as destroyed as you are. So tell me again how this is protecting her.”
A sigh shudders my shoulders.
“When are you gonna stop being a fucking coward and go get her?”
I scrub a hand down the front of my face. “What if she won’t have me?”
Seamus shrugs. “Then at least you’ll know you tried.”
He stands up and pulls a small velvet box out of his pocket. He tosses it to me, a smirk lifting my lips.
“You’ll need that.”
I open it and stare, open-mouthed, at the simple diamond ring.
“Where did you get this?”
“It was Mam’s. She gave it to me when I married Ava, told me to hold on to it for you. Said you’d need it someday. Guess she was right.”
I close the box and pocket it.
He and Cal are right. They always could see right through me.
Fuck, I’m crazy about Molly. Her copper eyes. Her fierce heart. The way she fought to free herself in that warehouse. The way she refused to be helpless.
I remember the look on her face when I pushed her away. I fist my hair. All she wanted was to stay.
“Thanks,” I say.
“Don’t thank me. Just don’t fuck this up.” Seamus points to the front door. “Go get your girl, Dec.”
And I want to go. With everything in me.
But what if she’s given up on me the way she thinks I gave up on us?
What if…she realizes I was right all along?
TWENTY-NINE
marlowe
