Sirens wail outside, and I curse. Grabbing my bag, I pivot toward the exit. “We need to go—” Incredible pain spreads over my side, and I gasp, doubling over.
Killian grabs me, fingers digging into my elbow. The counter pain doesn’t touch the blooming agony on my side. “Fuck,” he curses, a hand on my hip. “You’ve been shot.Goddammit, Maeve.” Swinging me into his arms, I shout against the rough treatment.
My whole body throbs, heat flashing through me as the wound grows agitated. It radiates out, adrenaline failing. Fuck this—thisI could forget. I’ve been shot before, and it’s not fun.
Kicking out another window, he steps over, boots crunching against the glass. His scent, his heat, lull me into a strange sense of comfort, and I bury my head in his neck. I’m so tired—my eyes feel like lead.
I can rest here. I know I’m safe in his arms.
“Don’t you fuckingdare,” he warns. I’m jostled, the car horn beeping. “Don’t you fucking leave me, Princess. Do you hear me? You’re not allowed to go.”
His arms grow tighter.
Snorting, my nose runs over his throat. His skin is so warm—and I’m so cold.
“Why do you get to leave but I can’t?”
My body jerks, head rolling. His essence leaves me, and I’m placed roughly into the car. A thick band covers my lap.
Brushing my back hair, I can’t bother to open my eyes. It takes too much effort, and I’m comfortable with them closed.
“I did it for you,” he confesses. “Now,holdon.”
I don’t say anything else—I let the darkness take me away.
17
MAEVE
10 YEARS AGO
“Maeve Gwendolyn O’Brien, what in theactualfuck,” Killian growls.
The overhead lights flicker, and I hiss, the sudden sting of fluorescents flooding my eyes. Crumpled in the corner of my bathroom, stuck between the tub and toilet, I hold back the urge to curl into a ball. Or vomit. I’m pretty sure I’m going to vomit.
Pressing my hand closer to the wound, my fingers are sticky with blood. The leather jacket squeaks something horrible in the quiet room as I blink, trying to look up, but the room spins.
“Did you justgovernmentname me?” I croak, shielding my eyes.
Killian glares down at me. He’s a wraith, full of black fury. “You’re lucky that’s all I did.”
Grumbling, I shake my head, willing the nausea to pass. “How do you even know my middle name?”
“I know everything about you, Princess. Knowing your middle name is child’s play.”
“Yeah, but how?” My head drops to the cool toilet. I’m feverish, and this seat is so fucking nice. “No one calls me that.” No one bothers toknowme.
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. Nervous energy fills the room as he looks around. “You’re bleeding.”
“Astute of you,” I quip. My voice wavers, strength zapped as I fight the urge to pass out again. How long have I been bleeding?
He leans down, cold black eyes staring into mine. “What was it this time? Run go bad? Someone said something smart?”
I drop my head back against the white tile, ignoring him. He always asks when he finds me like this. Always wants to know how it happened. Who did it. He almost sounds like he cares, but I’m sure it’s to gather information to use against me later.
It’s not like I can tell him the truth.
That after Michael forced himself on me—after I fought, clawed, andbithim to leave me alone—I felt so disgusted, so angry, I went looking for a fight in the back alleys. I needed to expel this pain in the only way I knew how—fighting.
