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)
Dr. Delgado cleared his throat.
“Your wife’s survival was our first priority, Mr. Callaghan. Now that we managed to stabilize her and stop the internal bleeding, we’re going to run some tests. A world-renowned obstetrician is seeing her as we speak.”
“I’m heading there now. Keep me posted.” I killed the call.
When I turned around, Luca and Achilles stared back at me, faces etched with worry. Jeremie was held by the collar of his blood-soaked shirt by Achilles.
“Fill us in,” Luca demanded.
“Lila and Tierney were in a car accident. It was bad. They’re in the hospital.”
“Are they okay?” Luca rubbed his knuckles over his chest.
“Lila’s stable. They don’t know about the baby yet.”
“Plane’s ready.” Luca jerked his chin at the van. “Let’s hit the road.”
We clamored into the van, leaving our driver and about a dozen soldiers behind to fend for themselves. Luca insisted he’d drive.
“And Tierney?” Achilles asked after a long stretch of silence, as Luca floored his way out of the warehouse and onto the open road on his way to the private airport. Golden clouds of sand swirled behind us.
I turned toward him, dazed. “What?”
“Tierney,” he repeated, nostrils flaring. “Your fucking sister, Tiernan. You didn’t even ask about her, did you?”
Fuck. What was wrong with me?
I pulled my phone out and texted Fintan. He answered after less than one second.
“Stable, conscious, in the room next to Lila.”
“The fuck is wrong with you?” Achilles twisted his mouth, snarling at me from across the back seat. “She’s your sister.”
My phone lit up with a text.
Fintan: I’m not going to leave their side until you get here. Don’t worry, lad.
Tiernan: Make sure there are two soldiers outside Lila’s room at all times. You stay inside until I get there. No one comes in or out other than medical staff.
Fintan: Understood.
I thumped my head against the seat back.
What the fuck was happening to me?
From infancy, I’d been carved to control myself. Trained to recognize a seed of emotion and promptly poison it before it could grow. I spent three decades perfecting the art of knowing my own limits, both mental and physical, and testing, stretching them, moving the goalpost to become as deadly as a weapon of mass destruction.
I never felt. Feelings were foreign to me. I sensed.
Sensed when it was time to strike.
To hit.
To run.
And yet the thought of my wife being in danger brought me to my knees.
What hit me the hardest was the regret.
The guilt of never acknowledging her pregnancy while it was still there.
How could I hate something she loved so much? I couldn’t. That was the truth of it.
If she loved this child, then I would learn to love him, too.
He wasn’t only the rapist’s. He was also hers.
Fifty percent of him was pure gold.
She wanted me to be the father.
And I failed her.
If she lost the baby, I’d never forgive myself.
Alex was right. I was Koshchei. The Deathless. Just like the Russian folklore villain, I, too, hid my death inside something to protect it.
That something was Lila.
She was tangled into my being, her messy, coarse vines gripping every fiber of my soul.
She had the power to destroy me.
And I would let her.
I’d gladly burn for this woman just so she could feel the warmth of my flame.
The more I tried to unlove her, the deeper she burrowed into my skin.
I was done fighting. She was now a part of the fabric of my godforsaken soul.
And it was time she knew that.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
TIERNAN
“The fuck you think you’re doing?”
Luca’s voice impaled my rage-fueled brain from behind my back.
I didn’t bother turning to face him. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Buying yourself a one-way ticket to prison. Five to seven years, I believe,” Luca said flatly.
“Pointing a gun to the pilot’s head and telling him to ‘go faster’ like it’s a roundabout ride at a zoo,” Achilles sighed. “Cunt move, even by your standards.”
I looked down to see the pilot trembling, his forehead slick with sweat. His crotch had a dark piss stain. Fucking amateur. I tucked my gun into my holster and kicked the pilot off his seat with the tip of my boot, taking his place.
Achilles popped his head into the cockpit. “What in the shit are you doing now?”
“He’s too slow. We’re not constrained by operational logistics of commercial airplanes. I don’t care if I burn through the fuel. We’re going at 700 mph.”
“The limit is 600 mph,” Luca pointed out.
“If the fucking sky police fines us, I’ll foot the bill.”
My hand flew to the overhead switch panel, increased the power, and gradually lowered the pitch attitude to maintain the altitude.
“Tell me you know what you’re doing.” Luca scrubbed his face tiredly.
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you mean it?”
“No.”
I took an aviation course, but never put in the flight time. My memory was a bit rusty on the ins and outs of it. But hey, we were still in the air, weren’t we?