Fuck, this is hard to watch.
If it were anyone else, it wouldn’t be so bad. I can detach myself from the violence, but this is Robbie, the man has never been anything but kind to me. He can fight; my god, he can fight. That skill is most likely what kept him alive.
Robbie catches the blade twice in the torso and once in the side before his attacker jolts back. Three bouncers come barrelling out of the building, giving chase. I watch until the assailant completely vanishes from sight, my heart pounding in my chest.
Shit, Sandra. Does she know?
I quickly tap away at my phone.
Katie:Does your mam know about Robbie? xxx
Several minutes pass before my phone vibrates on the desk.
Aiden:She thinks it’s a mugging gone wrong.
My eyes fall to the massive diamond ring on my finger. I’m engaged less than two hours and Aiden has already been snatched away by this murky world he runs in.
Is this what I want? Do I really want this life of looking over my shoulder?
I love Aiden. I love every dark, depraved side of him. But am I willing to sit back and wait for it to be him bleeding out on a stretcher?
There is no doubt in my mind that when it comes todangerous men, Aiden takes the cake. But Walsh, though not as intelligent and put together as my man, is just as capable of taking a life as Aiden. The drugs make Walsh a bigger risk, amplifying the unpredictable nature of his behaviour. In contrast, Aiden is calculated, cold, and methodical. Walsh is impulsive, rash, and jittery. He will just as easily shoot himself in the foot as he would put a bullet in someone’s skull.
Stepping into the adjoining room, I make my way to the wardrobe, pull out one of Aiden’s shirts, and slip into it, discarding my dress on the floor as I crawl into the double bed.
I don’t want to text him again. Not yet. Instead, I wriggle further into the bed, staring at the ceiling and hoping the sound of the city will drown out my racing thoughts.
I jolt awake to the sound of the door clicking open. I don’t know how much time has passed; I didn’t even realise I drifted off until my heart leapt into my throat.
Slow, clipped footsteps move around the office but make no move to come closer to where I have been sleeping.
It has to be Aiden, but to be sure, I creep from the bed, navigating my way to the door in the pitch black—a survival skill I learned while growing up in an addictive household. Slowly pulling the door handle down, I peel it open to see a faint light coming from the bathroom. Aiden appears in the doorway a moment later with a glass in his hand.
“Aiden?”
His eyes snap in my direction. His tired smile does not reach his stormy grey eyes. “Bug…”
“How’s Robbie?” I ask, stepping out of the room and hurrying towards him. There is blood staining his wrists,hands, and shirt, with a few droplets on his face.
“Stable,” he lifts the glass of amber liquid to his lips, his Adam’s apple bobs with each swallow. “Surgery went well. He should be up and about soon enough.”
I can’t tear my eyes from the blood staining his shirt and his hands. His brother’s blood. “Let me help you with that.” Stepping closer, I pop the buttons open on his dress shirt, one by one. The backs of my fingers skim his sculpted torso. My gaze meets his as I slide my hands up his chest, pushing the fabric from his shoulders.
His eyes darken with a mix of emotions as my hands trace the outline of his muscles. Without a word, he leans in and captures my lips with his, the taste of whisky and something else I can’t quite discern lingering on his tongue.
“I really want to kill someone tonight,” he breathes against my lips.
“Too risky,” I whisper back, my hands still lingering on his chest. “Gardaí are everywhere, and you’ll have too many eyes on you.”
His grip tightens on my waist, his gaze intense. “I don’t care,” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous.
I don’t resist his touch; I lean into it. He’s hurting right now. Fuming. I would be too if I were in his shoes. “I do.” Placing my hand on his cheek, I realise just how heavy this engagement ring is; it feels like it could bend and snap the bone beneath my skin. “Stay with me tonight.”
He lowers his head to my shoulder, and allows my fingers to run through his hair, my nails scratching his scalp just the way he likes it.
“Wait a few days.”
His arms wrap around me, the cold glass pressing againstmy back, the only barrier being the shirt I’m wearing.
