She’s vulnerable. I know she hates being seen that way. I’ll give her my strength to ease whatever demons are plaguing her dreams and pray it’s enough.
The images are instant, and Collins plugs them into the makeshift screen.
Brows furrowing, she taps at a spot. I don’t need her explanation. I see the bullet.
“It’s lodged against her hip. It looks like it’s in pieces.”
It wouldn’t be Maeve if it was easy.
Pulling a pair of gloves, I throw some at the prince. “Suit up.”
Together, we prep Maeve for the quick surgery. Collins dons a mask and a local anesthetic in a long syringe. With a pair of tweezers, a scalpel, and a magnifying lens attached to her glasses, she has us hold Maeve down.
When the blade cuts into her skin, I have to stop myself from ripping it out of her sister’s hand. Maeve is out—she can’t feel any pain. But when I said my knife would be the only blade to touch her skin, I fuckingmeantit.
I know why she did, and why she needed it. She only knew pain under Michael’s control. When he left, she forgot how to function. I became the solution.
“Breathe, Linwood,” Hayes reminds me, voice rough. His knuckles are white, pressing into Maeve’s arms.
It’s not rational, but I want to cut off every finger for touching her.
“I’mfine.”
His navy-blue eyes narrow. “You look like you’re going to annihilate the world. And I don’t feel like going out in a fiery death right now. She’s alright.Breathe.”
Fuck him. That’s exactly what I was thinking.
The ticking of metal pieces into the small pan is nails on a chalkboard. Every clink is a fucking taunt. Another reminder that this damn woman got shot—because I didn’t keep her safe.
I spent years tending to her wounds. What does it say now that she gets hurt under my protection?
The last piece—the largest piece—comes out, a gush of blood behind it. I don’t think, scooping up pads to staunch the bleeding. At this point, it’s second nature.
Collins sits back, removing the glasses. “I think that’s all.”
“Youthink?” It’s harsh, and she winces.
Hayes growls, “Watchit.”
“Just because you’re second doesn’t mean I won’t erase your existence,” I threaten, voice low. “Especiallytonight.”
Coldness steals the heat from the room, swallowed whole by my rage. Let it. It’s the only thing soothing the demons inside of me, demanding the head of those who hurt the woman before me.
And the worst part? Those fuckers are dead. All I can do is destroy the mole and end the Board for their hand in this.
Gladly.
Carefully, Collins reaches for her sister’s dress, and I grip her wrist, painfully wrenching it higher. I expect Hayes’ response—his gun goes to my temple, but I don’t release Collins.
Maeve was right—the girls, Briar, even the prince—are my fucking family. For any of them, I would kill without question. I tortured the man who tried to assault Sloane. I tracked, attacked, and delivered the man who sold out Hayes to Collinsfor retribution. I’ve hidden Briar from the worst kind of killers, covering his trail when he was younger.
But when it comes to Maeve? They can all burn in the deepest fires of Hell if it means keeping her safe.
“Killian,” Collins whispers, eyes pleading. “Let me go.”
“Youdon’ttouch her.” My eyes flicker to the hitter. “You’d better be ready to use it. We both know that won’t stop me.”
“I have to bandage?—”
