Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
She pulled away, shaking her head. “Save your breath. It has nothing to do with your brother. When I was twelve, I had a hysterectomy.”
I blinked, unsure what she meant.
“They removed my uterus, Lila.” She licked her lips, staring at her hands in her lap. “Well, they didn’t plan on it. But… Something bad happened to me, and there were complications.” She pursed her lips. “We experienced a lot of dark shit, me and my brother. I’m not asking you to forgive Tiernan for his bad behavior, but maybe you can find a way to understand him.”
My heart felt like it was melting into mush. I wanted to hug him. Hug her. But I knew Tierney would misread it as a sign of pity and wouldn’t appreciate it.
“I am so sorry.”
Tierney shrugged, throwing me a casual smile. “It’s fine.”
“Who are they? The people who did this to you.”
She shook her head. “It’s not just my story to tell.”
“You are your own person, Tierney,” I signed stubbornly. “Independent from your brother. You are smart, beautiful, kind, and worthy. Remember that.”
“And you?” She directed those verdant eyes, a shade lighter than my husband’s, at me. “Do you remember how strong you are? How resilient? How kindhearted? I never thought anyone could penetrate the walls my brother erected between him and humanity. They were—still are—impassable. Even I can’t get through them sometimes. But you did, somehow. You’re doing his head in, Lila.” She smiled. “Don’t be mad at him when he gets angry that those walls are tumbling down. The debris must be a bitch.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
LILA
When I got back home, there was a gift box waiting on the kitchen table.
It was wrapped in lush pink satin.
I shrugged off my jacket, hanging it by the door. Imma wasn’t in. Her son was visiting from Italy, so she took a few days off. Was it from her?
I made my way to the present, examining it without opening it.
When I turned around, Tiernan was standing before me, hands stuffed into his front pockets. Through the fog of exhaustion, I noticed the dark circle under his eye.
“You haven’t slept well?”
I took his silence as confirmation. He ambled toward me, bracketing my face in his rough palms, sorrow gleaming from his eye. I exhaled in relief when I saw his eye patch was back. It hadn’t disgusted me, seeing his eye socket the other night. But it did remind me of the pain my own kin subjected him to, and I felt shame and anger.
“It looked like you slept fine last night.”
“I look like a lot of fucking things I’m not.”
“Oh.”
“Yes. Oh.”
“Like…what?”
“Gealach.” He brushed his nose against mine, breathing me in, fingers curling around my waist. “I’m sorry I was a cunt.”
I palmed his face and pulled him away so I could read his lips better.
“I’m not your punching bag, Tiernan.”
“I know.”
I waited for him to acknowledge the gender of our baby, to pick up the conversation from last night, but when he finally spoke again, he gestured to the gift on the table. “Got you a present.”
Swiveling to reach for it, he caught my waist, anchoring me back in his arms. “You can’t open it, though.”
I frowned. “What is it?”
“Deli boy’s cock.”
My eyes flared in horror, and I pushed him away.
“Oh my God! Why would you do that?”
His face bricked over. “Tierney told me what happened. No one’s allowed to touch you without permission. That includes me.”
“You could’ve simply gotten him fired!”
“He disrespected you. Disrespected me. After I warned him.”
“You can’t sever a man’s genitals just because he tried to touch me.”
“Why not?”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. “The punishment doesn’t fit the crime.”
“I know.” He bowed his head humbly. “But chopping off his hands seemed like overkill. I couldn’t fit all the organs into the one small box.”
I clutched my head, probably to stop it from exploding. What could I say to that?
My family was far from the realm of normal, but my brothers had never done something so violent because of me. So far, my conscience was clean as a whistle. Until now.
“This is not romantic. It’s deranged.”
“Let’s settle for both.”
Folding my arms, I shook my head.
“No? Fine. I’ll ask next time before I chop off people’s parts for you.”
“Is he alive?”
“Depends on your definition of the word.” He toyed with the edges of his phone. “I stopped the bleeding, so he didn’t die. But he won’t be able to fuck or piss normally. And, of course, it’s not ideal that he lost his job, now that the medical bills are gonna pile up.”
“This is sick.”
“We do terrible things for family.”
“You consider me family?” A warm tremor passed through my chest.
He jerked his head in a nod. “Now, what do you consider romantic?”
I was out of ideas. I never had a boyfriend, and the little curated romance my mother allowed me to consume, in the form of books and old films, was set either in a fantasy world or a war.