“I just… I’m terrified of losing him. I don’t think I would survive.”
“No self-respecting guy would willingly wear a princess crown unless he was in it for the long run,” he says, and I let out a watery laugh. “But I think you might have to fight Amber and Skye for him. They are officially on Team Cormac.”
I wipe my cheeks. “That makes me so happy.”
“Maybe you guys can come over for dinner next week?”
It takes me a moment to be able to talk past the lump in my throat.
The fact that Joe is willingly reaching out a hand not just to me but to Cormac too means the world.
“I’d love that.”
When the call ends, I stay where I am, leaning against the wall, my phone resting limply in my hand.
One phone call hasn’t erased the grief we both feel for how Carly’s story ended, but for the first time since she died, it feels as though the blame has finally shifted off my shoulders.
Chapter Thirty
CORMAC
“Fuck!”I hurl my phone across Kieran’s office, where it smashes against the far wall.
How the hell did I end up here?
I know the answer, but I don’t want to face it. I don’t want to acknowledge the fact that even after all the careful planning, Lorcan was one step ahead of us the entire fucking time.
I should have killed him when I had the chance.
That thought has been circling my head all day, relentless as a vulture. It picks at every moment I hesitated, every second I convinced myself I was being smart to wait for my brothers.
I should have known, from how calm he was, that he’d been indulging our plan.
He might not have known everything, but he knew enough to be the one to walk away smiling.
I drag a hand down my face and laugh under my breath, the sound sharp and humorless.
I told myself waiting for Ronan and Kieran was strategic, but all it did was give Lorcan time to get away. Even now, when I shut my eyes, I see him behind my eyelids—his mouth bloody, his smile crooked, and his eyes wild and locked on mine, daring me to pull the trigger.
You don’t know who to trust.
I clench my jaw until my teeth ache.
He’s wrong about a lot of things, and I just have to hope he was wrong about that too, because if he wasn’t, then this isn’t just a setback.
It’s the beginning of the end.
The office feels too small for the amount of fury clawing around inside my chest. Every breath scrapes on the way in, like my lungs are protesting the effort.
I straighten a stack of papers on Kieran’s desk even though there’s no reason to, my hands needing something to do before I break something else.
Lorcan isn’t just gone. He’s watching. I can feel it in my bones.
Men like him don’t disappear without leaving traps behind. They pull back, and then they strike where it hurts most.
And the worst part?
He knows me.
