I blink at him, wiping the tears off my face.
“You’re lying.”
“I did a DNA test, he’s not. Maybe that’s why he never loved me like he did you. Either way, he was in the fucking way. So I took care of it. It was easier than you’d think, given that the man chain-smoked cigars and drinks liquor like a fish, it was easy to stage a heart attack.”
“You’re a horrible fucking person.”
“Says the person who just shot me. Can you loosen the restraints on my arms?”
I glare at him, and he rolls his eyes like it was worth a shot.
The door to the nest opens, and my breath hitches as I turn around. All four of them are there, and I take a relieved breath. Cillian is the only one fully clothed, while the others apparently handled all of this in their underwear.
Declan and Finn have blood on their chests, and it doesn’t take me long to realize it’s not theirs.
I look at Declan, and his eyes meet mine. “Is Maeve okay?”
Declan laughs and shakes his head. “It’s going to take a lot more than a bunch of wannabe gangsters to take her out. She shot one square in the chest with a shotgun and hid in the closet.”
I nod my head, my eyelids feeling heavier than they were before.
“This is cute and all, but can you shoot me in the head and put me out of my fucking misery?” Anthony complains from the corner.
Cillian stands in front of me, his gray sweatpants blocking my view of what they’re doing to my brother.
“Can you stand? I’m taking you out of here while we get everything cleaned up.”
He holds out his hand, and I take it.
Cillian covers my eyes with his hand as he walks me out of the nest and through the house. He only lets go of my face when we get to one of their vehicles.
There’s already a bag for me in the backseat, and I rest my head against the window as Cillian pulls out of the driveway. I expect him to head towards the strip, but he doesn’t. He drives towards Henderson instead.
I honestly don’t care where we go as long as I get some sleep.
We pull up to the Green Valley Ranch Resort, and Cillian tips the valet handsomely. I wonder what we must look like? Both of us wearing sweatpants and hoodies. But I don’t really care because Cillian holds my hand while we check in and head to ourroom. He isn’t using his cane, but I don’t see him straining, so I don’t call him out on it.
As soon as we enter the room, I climb into the bed. Cillian helps readjust the sheets around me. Every inch of my body that I was ignoring finally protests in pain.
“Take these,” Cillian says, holding out two pills and a glass of water. I don’t even bother asking what they are as I swallow them both.
Cillian gets in the bed behind me, wrapping his large arm around my waist. I’m ready to sleep for hours on end and not deal with reality, but Cillian apparently does not have the same plans.
“You know what’s going to happen to him?”
“Yes.”
You don’t spend your life growing up in this world and not understand the consequences. Anthony not only killed one of the O’Briens’ men, but he was also going to hurt me.
He killed our father. He’s the reason all of this happened in the first place.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into my hair, and I know he means it.
I wipe a tear from my eye and turn to face him. I cup his cheek, remembering how beautiful I thought he was when I first saw him at the High Roller. I still do.
“He wasn’t my brother anymore. I suppose he never was.”
He cups my face and rubs my cheeks.
