Seamus
Where the fuck are you?
On my way
Then, before he can murder me on sight, I decide it's probably best to prepare him. So I add:
And you can kill me later, but I'm not leaving her where Crowning can find her.
Three dots appear, disappear, then appear again.
Seamus
This better not be a mistake, Ash.
I pull on a fresh shirt, strap on my shoulder holster, and check my weapons. Everything's in place. I grab the bag I keep ready by the door, always prepared for a quick exit.
Bianca emerges from the bedroom wearing jeans and a sweater, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She looks young and nervous, and so fucking beautiful it steals my breath.
“I'm ready,” she says.
I hold out my hand. She takes it, her small fingers threading through mine.
“Whatever happens in there,” I tell her. “Whatever they say about your father—we'll talk about it after. Me and you.”
Her brow furrows. “My father? What do you know about my father?”
“I'll explain later. I don't have time right now.”
She frowns, pulling her hand back slightly. “Did you know my father?”
“Aye.”
She doesn't say anything else, but I can see the questions building behind her eyes. I'm bringing her into my home, my world, my family. She deserves to know the truth, but not like this. Not rushed, not before she has to face the McCarthys.
“Who's going to be there?” she asks quietly as I lead her toward the door. “Do you have brothers? Sisters?”
I clear my throat. “I have one brother, Lorcan. There was another, but he's… deceased.”
“Oh, Ashland. I'm so sorry.” Her face crumples with genuine pain. “What happened?”
“He betrayed the family,” I say impassively. “And he paid the ultimate price.”
Her brow furrows, but she doesn’t ask any more questions. Not yet.
We reach the car, and I open her door, waiting until she's settled before closing it and rounding to the driver's side. I reach over and take her hand as I pull away from the cabin. She squeezes back, holding tight.
I can't shield her from any of this anymore.
“The people we're about to meet—” I pause, choosing my words carefully. I glance at her, then back to the road. “You should know who I am, Bianca. What I'm capable of. Do you understand me?”
She's quiet for a long moment. Then, softly, “I’m beginning to. But I want you to tell me exactly what we're going into.” I see that fierceness that makes her my girl.
She's survived losing her father. She's survived her mother’s narcissistic control and another man’s control. Bianca will never be controlled again.
She needs to own this. She needs to be in charge of the decisions she makes. And I feel that to my very core.
“Would you like to know what we're going into?” I ask her, reaching my hand to brush her knee. She moves a little closer to me and makes a sound in her throat like a stifled moan, and I'm instantly fucking hard. Christ, it takes all my self-control not to pull this car over, drag her onto my lap, and rail her right on the side of the road. Now that I've had her, it's all I can think about.
