Page 25 of Wicked Ruin

I do not think about the way his hand pressed to the small of my back when we danced. How I skipped his going-away party and ignored his texts for months after, telling myself it was for the best. How he used to bring me food when I was sick and how he promised to look out for me if I went to the club.

My phone buzzes with a text, and I stare at it with growing dread. I have to sort myself out, and now. I roll my eyes at nothing and pick up the phone.

My heart flutters with a thousand butterflies when I see who it’s from.

Declan

Hey, Trouble. Are you behaving?

I place it face down on the table. Maybe if I don’t respond, he’ll go away.

I close my eyes and shove my phone to the other end of the table, but it does no good. I can’t run from him. And what the hell am I running from anyway?

There is no us to worry about. There never was and never could be. I had a crush on him. That’s it. He was a good friend when I needed one, and I’ll forever be grateful to him for that.

So I pick up my phone. Type. Delete it. Type again.

I place my phone face down and go back to the ledger.

Chapter Five

DECLAN

I walk into Seamus's office, and as soon as he sees me, his face breaks into a grin. It's been a while. Christ, but I missed the arsehole.

He pushes away from his desk, walks over, and pulls me into a bear hug, clapping me on the back so hard I’m pretty sure he’s trying to wind me. “Welcome home, brother,” he says, his voice husky. “I missed your feckin' face.”

I laugh and smack his back in return. “You got old,” I tell him, deflecting.

He snorts. “And you got fat.”

I snort. “Like fuck I did.” I pound my chest. “Solid muscle here.” So I’ve been taking the gym a little more seriously these days. My brothers in the Boston area hit the gym every damn morning before the sun rose, and I can’t say I minded the gains. I sit down heavily across from him. “You've got news for me.”

“I do, and it's big, but that can wait. Just tell me this: Was it a wild-goose chase?”

I shake my head. “Fuck no.”

He breathes out through his teeth and leans back in his chair. “I knew it. We’ll talk with the lads when we have a proper meeting, aye?”

“Aye. So I hear Ashland's got a girl? The Priest himself?”

Seamus bursts out laughing. “Fell like a lovesick fool. Never saw that coming, but good for him. He's loyal. And it'll be good for all of us.”

I lean back in the chair. I’ve missed being here. I want to know everything. “Why?”

“Keeps him grounded. Solidifies the family.”

Seamus's father, my uncle Keenan, drilled it into all of our heads from the time we were boys—the necessity of marriage. A wife. Not just to have connections to others, but for children, an old-fashioned model our parents held to and expect us to.

I can still hear my father's voice like it was yesterday. Every child we bring into the McCarthy family line is like another root in a tree. Strengthens us.

We'd all known the expectations from the beginning: Stay loyal, get married and have children, and don’t fuck up.

“Ashland was never the same after Donovan…” I trail off. Hell, none of us were. No one wants to see a brother turn. No one wants to be the one to punish him for it. Donovan's betrayal left invisible scars on every one of us.

“Aye.” Were any of us?

“You know Erin's having the baby soon?” Seamus says with a smile.