Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
“I hope your little vacation was good, Caroline.” Malachy’s voice is clipped and strained. It sends my heart into overdrive. “I’m guessing you don’t even know Dermot was attacked.”
“What?! Is Dermot okay?” I’m probably overacting, but Malachy doesn’t sound like he notices.
“Get home right now. We need to talk.”
“Okay, but, Dermot—”
“He’s fucking fine.”
Malachy hangs up. I lower my phone, feeling sick. My pulse is out of control. I’ve never heard Mal so enraged before and I’m terrified of what I’m going to find if I go.
But I can’t just refuse. And it’s not like they’re going to hurt me. They’re not that stupid, right? If I come back here and Finn notices a bruise, there’d be hell to pay. The Whelans would never let my brothers touch me like that.
Unless Mal doesn’t care anymore… and Dermot somehow knows it was us who attacked that poker game…
I pace back and forth while Finn’s in the shower, my mind racing all over, but I don’t see any other way. I can’t refuse to show up. That’ll only look terrible.
When Finn gets out, he stands in the doorway to the bathroom wrapped in only a towel, water glistening off his muscular chest. I try not to look at the bandage over his bullet wound.
“You’re right. You have to go. But you’re not going alone.”
“You can’t come with me. That’ll be even worse.”
“No, but I’ll be close. If something bad happens—” His jaw tightens in anger. “You’ll send me a message.”
“You’re hurt. You need to stay here.”
“Fuck that.” He struggles to put on a shirt, obviously swallowing a lot of discomfort. “Give me a minute to get dressed and then we’ll head out.”
“Finn—”
“No more playing nurse. I’m going to be sitting in the car outside that fucking house in case those vicious bastards decide to treat you like a punching bag again. Do you understand me? If they lay a hand on you, I swear, Caroline, I’ll come in and finish this today, to hell with the consequences.”
His gaze is fierce and defiant. And I swear, I’ve never felt like I could love him more than right in this moment.
“Okay,” I say, voice very small, as a flood of relief rushes through me. If Finn’s nearby, this might be okay. I can get through anything with him at my side.
“Then we shouldn’t keep them waiting.”
The house is strangely dark. It’s not usually so grim. I pause in the entryway and listen for any sign that people are home, but it’s totally silent. “Hello? Mal? Mom?” Nobody answers. I drift into the kitchen, but it’s abandoned. I trudge around to the back, a nasty feeling rustling around in my stomach.
I hear them in Dad’s office. I hate that room so much it repulses me. I have to force myself to take one step after the other toward it.
Too many bad memories in this place.
But Finn’s nearby. He’s sitting around the block in the car in case I need him. I touch my phone to reassure myself. All I need to do is tap his name and he’ll come running, guns blazing.
I knock on the door lightly. They usually make me wait, but this time it suddenly wrenches open with so much force I have to take a step back in surprise. Mal appears with a gun pointing at my face, and my mouth opens to scream, but nothing comes out.
“Oh, it’s you.” He lowers the weapon. “Get in here.”
I groan and put a hand over my heart. “Holy shit, you almost gave me a heart attack.”
He grins at me. It’s lopsided and manic. “I almost blew your fucking brains out, actually.”
The office is cramped. Dermot’s there on a couch typing on his computer. He barely looks up at me. Dad’s behind his desk, standing with his back to us. He’s wearing rumpled clothes and looks like he hasn’t shaved for a few hours. Mal’s about the same. They all smell like a farm.
“There she fucking is,” Dad says, looking over his shoulder. He seems pale and twitchy. “I wanted her here days ago.”
“She was on some stupid vacation.” Mal sneers at me and shoves his gun back into his waistband. “I told you that already.”
“Did you? I have more important shit to keep track of than my worthless daughter.” Dad grabs a glass and slams it back. He’s drinking whiskey this early in the day? I frown to myself and realize they’ve all been smoking too. The place stinks like an ashtray. Dermot’s got energy drink cans at his feet.
“Want me to fill her in?” Mal glances at me. I stay near the door, not sure what the heck I’m seeing right now. My family is usually put together and very proper. They’d never smoke indoors and drink before noon. But here they are, like they’re going insane or something.