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“Unnecessary words waste time,” Duncan replies.
“See?” Liam gestures toward him. “Exactly what I mean.”
No one seems bothered by any of this. Especially not Conor. The hand holding mine hasn’t loosened once. If anything, his grip has become more certain as the conversation has progressed. Like every piece of information about Henry only reinforces something he’s already decided.
“You all make this sound easy,” I say quietly. I’ve spent eight months living under Henry’s shadow. Watching what happened to people who crossed him. Hearing the stories, feeling the fear. To me, Henry is a nightmare that refuses to end.
To them… He’s a problem. And judging by the confidence in the room, one they fully intend to solve.
“It is,” Alessia says with a soft smile. The confidence in her voice is absolute. “Trust us, Jaxon. We know what we’re doing.”
I have no idea if that reassures me or terrifies me. Before I can decide, Ollie lets out an enormous yawn. The kind that takes over his entire face. His eyes squint shut. His mouth opens impossibly wide. And then he sways slightly where he’s sitting. The room immediately shifts gears.
“Well, that’s our cue.” Colton pushes to his feet. “Time to get little man home before he gets fussy.”
“Yeah,” Liam mutters from the couch. “Because he’s such a ray of sunshine otherwise.”
“Says the man who’s been losing an ongoing feud with an eighteen-month-old.” Declan smirks.
Liam points at him. “I’m not losing.”
“Really?” Xavier asks. “Because from where I’m sitting, you’re getting your ass handed to you.” Several people laugh.
Liam looks deeply offended. “For the record, he started it.”
“He’s a baby,” Finn says.
“A very hostile baby.”
“He likes the rest of us,” Declan says smugly.
“Ack ass.”
Every head turns toward Ollie. The toddler is staring directly at Liam. Looking entirely too pleased with himself. The room erupts into laughter. Liam drops his head into his hands.
“See? This is exactly what I’m talking about.”
Ollie grins. Then yawns again. Apparently satisfied that he’s won another round. The little menace.
It doesn’t take long for everyone to leave. One by one, the house empties. Goodbyes are exchanged.
Ollie waves at everyone from Ronan’s arms while Colton repeatedly reminds him to stop trying to steal people’s keys. Eventually, the front door closes behind the last of them. And just like that, it’s over.
The silence that follows feels strange. Almost unnatural. Only minutes ago, the house had been overflowing with voices, laughter, and conversations happening over top of one another. Now there’s nothing. Just the distant hum of the refrigerator. The occasional creak of the house settling. The quiet seems louder somehow.
I’m exhausted. Mentally, physically, and emotionally. Tonight feels like it’s lasted a week. I learned more about the Murphy family in a few hours than I thought possible. About the things they’ve survived. The things they’ve done. The lengths they’re willing to go for the people they love.
It’s too much to process. Too much to feel. Conor must see it on my face. He usually does.
“Come on, A Chroí.”
The nickname still does strange things to my chest. I take his hand and let him pull me to my feet. For once, I don’t argue. Don’t insist I’m fine. Don’t pretend I have more energy than I do.
He leads me upstairs in comfortable silence. The routine we’ve fallen into over the last few days unfolds naturally. The small rituals that somehow make this place feel more like home than anywhere I’ve ever lived. By the time we’re finished, my eyes are burning with fatigue.
Conor pulls back the comforter and waits until I’m settled before climbing in beside me. The mattress dips beneath his weight. Then his arm slides around my waist. Like there was never any question where I would sleep. Or who I would sleep beside.
He pulls me against him. I go willingly, resting my head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my ear.
