“Answer me.” My voice comes out lower, darker, barely under control, because I’m fucking losing it.
She nods, just once.
Everything in me snaps, I can feel my blood boiling.
“FUCK!” I shout, slamming my fist into the table beside her head. The wood groans under the blow. My chest heaves. My lungs burn.
I didn’t want it to be like this. Not like this.
Not rough. Not in rage. Not… this!
“You better leave, little lamb,” I growl, backing up. “Before your cousin comes and more Irish blood gets spilled by my hands.” I have no words for her; I have nothing to comfort her. She should have told me to stop. Fuck!
She doesn’t speak. Just bends down, picks up her mask, and walks away.
No words. No glance back. And I let her go.
I storm through the layers,fists clenched, jaw locked. I need to hurt something.
I should’ve known. I should’ve felt it.
Her body trembled. She hesitated. Her eyes said she was giving something she couldn’t take back, and I took it. Blind. Thoughtless.
I tore into her like she was built to break. Now she’s branded, burned by me.
Rage churns in my chest; at her, at myself, at everything. I can’t take it back. Worse, I don’t want to.
That’s what kills me. I don’t want to take it back. I want her to think of me every time someone else touches her. To always remember me.
Leo is there when I push through the doors beneath the school. He leads me to the training chamber like he already knows what I need.
“I need something to hit,” I snap.
He doesn’t blink. Just grabs two sets of gloves and tosses me mine. “Good. Because I need to test your footwork,” he says with humor in his tone, but I’m not in the mood for it.
We don’t speak. Only fists, breath, and tension.
Until I snap. “How long have you been with my family?” Leo adjusts the pad. “Since the day you were born.”
I blink, wiping the sweat from my eyes.
“My dad worked for your grandfather, then your father. When you three were born, I was brought in. Hired to train you. Watch over you.”
“So, you’ve been watching us?”
“No. I’ve been training you. Watching is passive. I’m not here to babysit. I’m here to make you killers.” He meets my eyes. “And if what happens above the layers puts you or your brothers in danger, I step in.”
He raises his gloves again. “Now stop thinking. Start swinging.”
I smile. I need this. I need to bleed some of the rage out.
Chapter 9
Aoife
My legs shake as I step out of the library. The hallway feels too polished, too clean for what just happened behind that door. I don’t think I can breathe, I’m trying, but it’s hard, the music still thunders through the school.
My body feels wrecked. Between my legs, an ache, a brutal reminder of what I’ve done. I’ve never felt more alive, or more ashamed.
