Something is very, very wrong.
For a split second, I worry that they’re discussing my pregnancy. But then I realize that would be ridiculous. Only Ciara knows, and she hasn’t had the chance to tell Dr. Allen without me being present. Unless he could somehow have guessed it on his own…
If Kieran finds out from someone other than me that he’s going to be a father, I don’t think he would forgive me.
I don’t bother muffling the rest of my footsteps as I descend the stairs, and at the sound, Ronan spins around and freezes at the sight of me.
“What’s going on?” My voice shakes, but I force myself to stand tall as I face Ronan.
If he has a problem with me carrying Kieran’s child, then he can say it to my face. He might think he can intimidate me, but he’s wrong. I’ve dealt with many intimidating men in my life, and I’m past the point of trying to appease them.
Both men look up at once and their conversation instantly dies at my approach. The doctor’s face is grave, but it’s Ronan’s expression that makes my stomach turn to lead.
“Pack your things. I’m taking you both back to the house.”
“Back? Why? What happened?”
“Don’t argue.”
“Has something happened to Kieran?”
Ronan ignores my question. “Now, Riley.”
The urgency in his voice makes my skin prickle, but I don’t push him for an explanation. There will be time for that later.
Right now, I need to go and wake up Ciara and get her the hell out of this house.
She’s still fast asleep when I enter the bedroom, so I cross over to her and start shaking her shoulder.
“Ciara. Wake up.”
“Riley? What is it?”
“Ronan’s here. We need to go.Now.”
Her eyes fly open at my words. “Ronan’s here? What’s going on?”
“I don’t know. But it sounds urgent.” I kneel by the small pile of belongings we managed to unpack and quickly shove them back into our bags. Though my hands are shaking so badly it takes me a few attempts to zip them closed.
Ciara pushes herself upright, grimacing slightly as she swings her legs over the edge of the bed.
I grab her arm to steady her, but just as I help her stand, the crack of gunfire cuts through the house.
The sound is deafening, and I swallow a cry as the floor shakes beneath my feet.
Before I can even catch my breath, another gunshot cracks through the air, and Ciara gasps, her legs buckling beneath her.
My body reacts before my brain can catch up, and I force her down into the small gap between the bed and the dresser, dragging blankets down from the bed to cover her.
“Stay down. Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.”
My heart is hammering so hard against my ribs that it hurts to breathe as more gunshots sound from downstairs.
I catch the sound of footsteps beyond the bedroom door, followed by a scream so gut-wrenching it knocks the air from my lungs.
Mari.
Ciara throws the blanket off of her and claws at my hand.
