“There’s not much to say.” I blinked up at the dark ceiling where light reflected from the desk lamp, but I couldn’t see much. “I have two older brothers, Padraig and Grady. Padraig is a lot older than me and perfect according to my parents. Grady’s ten years older and he’s not bad, but he’s always doing things to impress the old folks.”
“Are they in... the Company, too?”
I snorted. “Yeah. I’m a legacy. My father is in the Killough Company and so was my grandfather and uncles. We’ve served the Company since it was established.” I shrugged, then flinched as a sharp spike of agony shot through me. “I joined to make my parents proud. Fucking did nothing but give my dad and brothers a reason to insult me more. Kept telling me what I was doing wrong, so then Mr. Killough gave those three dickheads—our sweet and caring housemates—custody of me.” I rolled my eyes. “I annoy them.”
“You don’t,” he argued quietly.
“I do. No use trying to deny it.” I slipped my eyes closed and focused on his scent. He smelled fresh, like he’d taken a shower and washed with apple-scented soap. I couldn’t get enough of him. “There’s nothing more to say. My family always thought I couldn’t do things, then I got diagnosed with diabetes and it got even worse. I told them where to stick it and proved them wrong.”
“Good.” It wasn’t hard to distinguish the pride in his voice. “Fuck them.”
I laughed. “Yeah, fuck them.”
Silence fell between us. I didn’t know how long it lasted. It was nice. I might have fallen asleep again. I wasn’t entirely sure. My eye burned from exhaustion, but I wanted to spend this time with him.Alone.
“Tell me about your dad,” I whispered.
He tensed against me, and after a few moments, loosened up again. “I miss him.”
“I know. We all know.” I grunted and shifted toward him, and he made a sound that said he didn’t want me to move, but I ignored him. I laid my cast on his belly and decided I fucking hated it. Why did that prick have to go and break my whole fucking arm? “We don’t know what to say to make it better.”
“There’s nothing you can say,” he murmured. “I did it.”
“No, you didn’t. Someone else did, not you.” I kissed his cheek and pressed my nose to his skin, breathing him in. “You smell like running in an apple orchard.”
He laughed softly. “You’re still high.”
“Mm. I’m serious, though. Not your fault. You’re innocent as a butterfly.”
“Butterfly is random,” he whispered, stroking his fingers over the skin on my right hand outside my cast.
“They’re pretty, like you.”
“Thank you, Fallon.” He sighed. “But I’m not innocent. You all warned me to back off and I didn’t. Lor warned me before you guys did. How is that anything but guilty?”
Vail was the least awful person I’d ever met, but it was hard to argue with him when he wanted to blame himself. And I wasreallytired and floating. “They shouldn’t have been operating in our territory. Mr. Killough and Mr. Folliero will handle them.”
He shook his head against my mouth. “What if they hurt someone else I love?”
“They won’t. They don’t have the balls.” I didn’t quite believe what I was saying. Theydidhave the guts for it because the Italians were ruthless bastards when they wanted to be. I had no idea who the Giordanos were, but I’d bet my right nut they would do anything to keep secrets safe. If they wanted to take out Elio Folliero, they wouldn’t want some college doctor spreading information.
“Fallon....”
“Hm?” My eye closed again and I smiled, drifting in a cloud of calm. This was nice. Maybe I had wings.
“I.... Thank you for being you. I don’t care what your family says. You’re special, and you’re better than your brothers.” He kissed my mouth, and I groaned into the pressure of his lips.
“I know. Fuck ’em.”
He chuckled. “Fuck ’em.”
The sound of the door crashing open had me jumping up and searching for my gun on the nightstand. Nothing was there, and adrenaline had me shoving myself to my feet and raising my fist, ready to fight.
“Put that down, ye fucking twat,” Cillian growled out.
“Oh.” I grinned and let my ass fall back on the bed. I fluttered my fingers at him as the overhead lights blazed on, making all three of them visible in the doorway. “Hi, guys!”
“We need to move,” Rowen said, ignoring me as he stormed over to the bags piled near the foot of the bed and started throwing dirty clothes from the floor into them. He went as far as mixing up our belongings but didn’t seem to care. “Sloan’s sending his private jet to get us and take us back to the Hamptons.”
