"We're leaving for the airport and flying to the US soon. So you've wasted your time." It was a lie. He had time to fly here now the airport had reopened, but the last thing I needed was my idiot brothers messing with Verity's head. She was too fragile right now.
"I figured." He sounded pissed off. "Is she alright?"
"Yes, fine." She wasn't, but Conal didn't need to know that. I’d prefer it if he forgot about her. "Seeing as how you disobeyed my direct orders, you can divert your energy into finding that fucker who's been messaging her." It would save me the trouble of hunting him down.
He ignored me.
"I want to see her. Delay the flight to give us time to reach you." There was a ruckus in the background, then Ronan spoke.
"Don't you fucking take her away from me, you bastard!" he raged. "I need to talk to her!"
"I can't delay the flight again or we'll be stuck here another day." Another lie.
He cursed me to hell and back. Before I could threaten him with violence, I felt her touch my arm.
"Is that Ronan?"
For fuck's sake. I turned around to find her wrapped in the bedsheet, her hair mussed from sleep and sex, and a frown on her sweet face. She blushed when she looked at me but held her ground.
I rolled my shoulders, resigned to what was coming. "Yes."
"Pixie! Let me explain!" Honestly, I should have hit mute on the fucker. She huffed at the sound of his muffled voice and put her hand out, gesturing at me to pass her the phone.
"I want to talk to him."
I made one last attempt to avoid the inevitable. "Princess, we don't have time!"
"Declan Kelly! Let me talk to him right this minute!" My mouth fell open in surprise at her rebuke, but I couldn't stop a proud smile from tilting my lips upward at her unexpected display of backbone. My kitten had claws.
"Yes, princess." She rolled her eyes and then turned away.
47
Ronan
"Yes?" Pixie's sweet voice did things to me no other woman ever had. Days of anxiety and panic faded until there was only her. How I longed to be with her, holding her curvy little body in my arms, hearing her needy little moans as she let me slide my cock into her perfect cunt.
"Say something, you fool!" My dickhead brother jabbed his elbow into my ribs.
The trip to Italy had done nothing to soothe his temper. Flying economy on Ryanair had that effect on most people.
Luckily for us, the flight attendants had fallen in love at first sight and showered us with free drinks. They'd have upgraded us to premium seats at the front, too, only the flight was full.
"I'm sorry," I blurted, having lost my mind somewhere over the Mediterranean.
"Sorry?" She sounded confused, and I frowned. Had she not seen the stupid post on Instagram?
"That Instagram post was fake, Pixie. The woman lied. I never fucked her last week, or even in the last year."
A middle-aged Karen in a hideous pink velour tracksuit glared at me from her plastic chair while her bald, fat husband stared at his crappy phone.
Clearly, vulgar language was a red line for her. Oh well. "She's a lying cunt, Pixie. The only pussy I want is yours."
Karen gasped and clutched her pearls like a Victorian spinster who'd just walked in on the local priest railing a nun. I half-watched as she turned puce. Shit, was she stroking out? No fucking way was I giving that old bitch the kiss of life.
Conal could take one for the twin team. I blamed him for this shit show. It had been his job to monitor Pixie's mental health, and he'd failed. Miserably.
Pixie sighed in my ear. "Declan explained the post was fake." I listened to her sweet breathing while Conal shoved me away from the Karen, who'd started filming me on her phone.
