Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 490(@200wpm)___ 392(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Cillian: I brought your boy home with me.
Me: I didn’t ask you to do that. He should have stayed in his dorm until tomorrow.
Cil knows how I am. I didn’t specify for Dean to stay in the dorm, but Cillian should have known better.
Cillian: No. He shouldn’t have.
My pulse jumps.
Me: Why? Did something happen with him?
Cillian: No. I brought him home for you.
I bite down the urge to lash out at him, but honestly, I don’t have the fucking energy for it tonight. I’m already wrung dry.
Instead of responding, I toss the cell to the seat. Rory and Aislin don’t speak the whole drive, and I don’t either. The only other time I look at my phone is when Conan texts to let me know he’s there and everything will be taken care of.
We finally get home, and as we’re walking toward the house, my sister grasps my hand. I squeeze tightly so she knows I’m there and won’t let go no matter what she needs.
Cillian jerks the door open the second we hit the porch. “Everything good?”
“Yeah, we’re all right. He’s fucking dead,” I answer while he looks at Aislin.
“Hey, you okay?” She nods and goes into his arms, Cillian hugging her. “You did good.” He kisses her temple.
“I didn’t do it.”
“That’s good. None of us want that for you,” Rory replies, and she lets him hug her too.
“Thanks, Ror…Cil. I’m going to bed.”
I nod, then say, “I’ll be up in a minute.” I’m not leaving her alone tonight, though I crave the same thing—not to be around anyone. Dean will have to understand that Aislin is the most important thing.
“No. Not tonight. I just want to be by myself, T.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“I love you, but the decision isn’t yours to make. I really just want to pass out.”
I’m still not convinced. She’s never seen me shoot someone before. Maybe it was harder than she thought? Maybe it’s me she doesn’t want to be around. Maybe this will be the thing that comes between us.
“I love you.” Aislin kisses my cheek, then heads straight for the stairs.
My gaze finds Cillian’s, then Rory’s.
“We’ll make sure she’s good,” Cil says.
“It’s not you,” Rory adds. “I’m sure tonight was just a lot for her.”
“I’m fine.” I shake off their concern, though I’m really not fucking fine. The thing is, I know I’m overreacting, know that I’m all up in my fucking head. Tonight wasn’t anything new, but it did feel different. “Where’s Dean?”
“In your room.”
Though I shouldn’t have missed it, I notice his black eye for the first time. “What the fuck happened? Who hit you?”
“Your boy. Punched him back. Tell him not to do it again, or I won’t go so easy on him.”
“Jesus.” I roll my eyes. It’s always fucking something. “I can’t deal with this tonight. I’ll talk to you about it tomorrow. And next time don’t fucking bring him here unless I tell you to.”
I disappear upstairs without another word. It takes everything in me not to go into Aislin’s room. Considering I dragged her to a murder and almost let her pull the trigger, respecting her wishes is the least I can do.
I open the door, and Dean is sitting on the edge of my bed, still dressed except for shoes. The only light on is the one on the nightstand, his bag beside the bed and his leg bouncing as our gazes clash.
The door closes with a click behind me. No words fall from my mouth. I don’t know what I want to say, if I want to say anything at all, so I just walk…don’t stop walking until I’m right in front of Dean, standing between his thighs. Reaching out, I brush my thumb over his swollen bottom lip.
“Your fucking friend is a dick.”
“And you’re not?” I manage to say.
“Not as big of one as you.”
“I never claimed to be anything else.” Still, my muscles tighten, throat closes up, almost making it hard to swallow. There’s no doubt in my mind that Dean hit him first. Cillian’s not dumb. He protected himself, but I still want to burn the world down anytime someone touches him. “You shouldn’t be here.”
I try to step away, try to put some distance between us because I’m a fucking mess tonight, but Dean’s hands shoot out, grabs hold of my wrist, doesn’t let me move.
“I should have been with you all night.”
Before I realize what’s happening, he pushes his other hand under my shirt and grabs my gun. Fuck. I forgot it was there. I’m making a whole lot of stupid mistakes where he’s concerned.
My hand is on his throat a second later, wrapped around it, but Dean doesn’t stop, doesn’t pull away, just takes my gun from my jeans and sets it on the nightstand.
My gaze falters when he leans in, lifts my shirt, and presses his mouth to my stomach, kissing me. I melt against him when he uses his teeth on me, alternating between nibbling and biting, and somehow, all that emptiness inside me is replaced by want, desire, this crazed, frantic need that makes my head spin and my heart race. That makes me feel on top of the fucking world.