“Hello?” called his father’s familiar voice.
“Dad, I got them but-”
“Oh, thank the Lord,” hee gasped, “How is she? Did you shoot the bastard?”
Mark glanced down at Kilian’s unconscious body, growing paler by the moment, “No, but Uncle Pat did, and he’s not looking too good.”
Grace let out another heart wrenching sob as she pressed her hands into Kilian’s body.
“Which one?” Peter asked.
“Both, actually. Kilian was shot by Pat, and Pat is…” Mark trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.
“Good,” Peter said, his voice distant as if he were lost in thought.
“I need to know what to do, Dad,” Mark said, feeling uneasy. “Kilian needs attention, and Uncle Pat… I need to know what to do with the body.”
“I’ll call in a favor and have Kilian flown to the hospital in Galway, your uncle though, that’s something you will need to handle.”
Mark nodded his head and hung up the phone.
“What did he say?” Grace demanded, blood pooling between her fingers.
“He’s sending someone for Kilian. They’ll take care of him. I want you to get on that helicopter, don’t say a damn thing to anyone until you see Dad. I have a feeling we’ll be seeing Liam Kelly for some help with the law end of this.”
“What about Uncle Pat?” Grace asked, her voice thick as the sound of distant helicopters drew nearer.
“I think the less you know the better.”
Bending down, he grasped the shovel that Kilian had left on the ground, and gripped his uncle’s boot, dragging him from the clearing.
23
The next thingKilian awoke to was the faint beeping of a heart monitor and painfully bright fluorescent lighting hanging overhead. His eyes fluttered open and darted about the room frantically as he slowly realized he wasn’t at Innisfallen anymore.
“What…?” he whispered, trying to sit up before immediately wincing in pain. “Oh, hell.” Memories of the fight with Peter’s brother flooded back to him as he brought a weak hand down to trace the outline of a bandage under his hospital gown. The wound was heavily bandaged, and wires and IVs stuck out of his body. He could barely move under the weight of the hospital equipment and bandaging.
“The book…” he whispered faintly to himself, managing to sit up slightly as he wiggled up against the bed’s flimsy headboard. “How the hell did I get here?” He brought a weak hand up to his head to rub his temples.
Kilian soon noticed Grace seated in a chair beside him, as if she had pulled the chair up to the side of the bed. Her body was folded over as if she had fallen asleep while sitting up. Her head rested against Kilian’s left leg, her hair messily cascading around her.
For a moment, Kilian sat in baffled silence, simply grateful he and Grace were alive and together after what had ensued on the island. Screw the book and the map, he thought at first, looking down gratefully at the woman sleeping peacefully--despite being in a rather uncomfortable-looking position--in his lap. He lightly placed a hand on Grace’s head, running his fingers through her hair; he was greeted by the faint, comforting scent of her shampoo.
“Oh...youalmost look peaceful like this,” he whispered to nobody in particular, smiling to himself.
After a few quiet minutes passed, Kilian begrudgingly allowed himself to return to reality. He had to know what had happened after the old man shot him. And where did Mark end up, anyway, he thought, looking around the room for any evidence of Grace’s brother, but it was just him and Grace.
Finally, Kilian slowly reached down and gently tapped Grace’s shoulder. “Hey,” he whispered softly. “Hey, Grace, how are you feeling?”
Letting out a yawn, Grace slowly rose from where she had dozed off. “Oh,” she mumbled groggily, confused and half-asleep at first, but she quickly regained awareness. She blinked a few times before her eyes lit up at the sight of Kilian, and a relieved smile crept across her face. “You’re okay.” She sighed, collapsing back into him and pulling him into a half-embrace. “You made it.”
Oof,” Kilian mumbled as Grace’s elbow painfully nudged his wound. “Easy, there,” he chuckled, leaning into the hug despite the throbbing in his side.
“Ah, shit, I’m so sorry,” she replied hastily, scrambling to move her arm away from the bandages wrapped around his side. “How are you feeling? You lost a lot of blood out there. I...didn’t know what was going to happen,” she admitted nervously. “Nobody here could tell me anything at first. You must have been in surgery for hours.”
“Well, to be honest, I feel like complete and total dogshit,” Kilian said bluntly, but he flashed his trademark half-smile weakly. “But...a little better now that I see that you’re here, actually. How did we even get all the way back here? The last thing I remember was getting shot on the island by your uncle.”
Grace giggled softly, her face flushing red at Kilian’s rare moment of tender compassion. “We ended up taking an emergency rescue boat back. It was really intense, and they weren’t sure if you were even going to make it here alive,” she explained, biting her lip. “It was all really crazy,” she added, eventually pulling away from the hug, holding Kilian’s hand in hers tightly, as if she was still in mild disbelief. “I don’t know why you jumped to defend me like that, but...thanks.”
