“Jane is dead. TheSocietyis gone. Everyone you’ve been hiding from is dead.”
“Not everyone,” I whispered.
“Darcy, it’s time.”
I stared at Brian Buchannon. My savior. He’d protected me when no one else would. I’d taken a chance when I reached out to Sean Buchannon back in the late eighties. He was the head of the IRA, and I’d exhausted every avenue I could think of after I lost Jackson.
It was a risk. He was Eamon’s brother-in-law, but I knew there was no love lost between the two men. In fact, Ireland was the one place I was safe from Eamon O’Malley. It was the one place on the planet he was never allowed to set foot in again.
I’d been safe.
Until I met him.
I had the worst taste in men.
Okay, the men weren’t so bad. They were handsome; they were strong. They loved me. It was the people behind them—the ones they were related to—who were the problem. After thethird time, I’d learned my lesson. I’d sworn off men, destined to live a life of celibacy. An old maid.
And I was happy.
Until life kicked me down again.
I’d come back to Ireland almost ten years ago. Sean had passed away, and his son Brian took over. I’d spent a lot of time with Brian when I first came to Ireland before I had the twins. Before I met him.
Brian had introduced me to him. And he was one of the men I was still hiding from. Charles, Kane, and Sal. The three men I’d loved. All different men, but all special in their own way.
Braesal O’Malley had been my first love. You never forgot your first love. We were stupid kids playing a game we knew nothing about. When I found out I was pregnant, I knew I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t let my child grow up in the Mob. I couldn’t let Eamon O’Malley get his hooks into my child.
Boy or girl, it didn’t matter. Either he raised my son to one day take over, or he married off my daughter to strengthen the family.
So I ran.
I let his grandparents raise him, and while I wish I could have been in his life, it was a decision I would never regret. It killed me to walk away, but Darcy Murphy died that day.
Then Gretchen Foster met Kane Baudelaire. Our love was a whirlwind. It ran fast and hot, and when I found myself pregnant again, a few months after giving birth to my son, Kane wanted to get married.
So we did.
I missed Kingston every day, but I knew that one day, when he was grown, I would meet him. Beg him for forgiveness and maybe be a part of his life. But then Jane came along, and I knew that would never be possible. I had no choice but to let Jackson go to save Kingston.
That was when I reached out to Sean. I moved to Ireland and became Bridgit Mahoney. For years, I stayed to myself. Then one day Brian invited me to a party, and I met Charles Kennedy.
Charles was different. He was older, more mature. He loved me in a way no one ever had. And when I got pregnant, I ran. I begged Sean to hide me again. I couldn’t lose another child. I wouldn’t survive.
When I moved back to the States, under yet another name, I thought we would be safe. And we were, for so many years it was just me and my boys. Until Shamrock joined a club. He was my wild child. Always looking for a thrill. Always joking, always screwing around. Always happy.
Then one day, Shamrock was gone. Hemlock packed me up in the dead of night and moved me back to Ireland. He didn’t stay with me, but we talked often. He came to see me when he could, but he was grown by then. Living his own life. All my boys were grown.
I missed them all.
It was then I realized it was time to go home.
Jane was dead. Jackson and Kingston were safe from her. Brian had gotten word that Kingston was searching for me. Searching for my grave.
“They’ll hate me.”
“Probably,” Brian deadpanned, and I stared at him, my mouth hanging open.
“You could lie, you know.”
