Page 142 of Godless Saints

“Yeah. Yeah.” I waved him off.

Misha followed anyway, grabbing my arm hard on the landing. “Maybe we should talk now.”

I shook him off.

“Did you… last night?”

That concerned look on Misha’s face was wrong. He didn’t do concerned. He did chaos. The fact that he was giving it to me now made my gut twist hard.

I shrugged.

He froze. “You don’t know. Fuck, Cillian. You should’ve made sure. This is really fucking bad.”

I kept walking. He followed me straight into my room, eyes landing on the Korean book open on the desk.

“Aww, look at you. Learning your fiancé’s language.”

I gave him a deadpan stare and started stripping.

“I fucking panicked, Misha.”

I hurled my shirt at the wall. Dull slap. “He stopped moving and I just… left. Didn’t even check if the bastard was dead.”

My chest felt too tight. Something clawing to get out. I rubbed at it, split knuckles stinging, but the ache didn’t fucking help.

“Okay, hey. Cil.” Misha grabbed my shoulders, grip firm. “We’ll figure it out. Kaelan was there too, right?”

I dragged in a breath. “He ran after some owl-masked jerk. I don’t know. I spent the next six hours crawling through that fucking mansion looking for my phone. Sun came up, I got out. I did this because Moon’s father wanted Declan gone. And if I can’t even protect him properly—”

“Shut up.” Misha’s hands tightened on my shoulders. “We need a plan. Everything will be fine. Get in the shower, you smell like sex and panic. You look haunted as fuck, man. I’ll wait here. We’ll hit the banquet together. Just… breathe. You’re actually freaking me out with this.”

I combed my fingers through my hair and walked into the bathroom.

Hot water hit my skin but it didn’t wash away shit. My ribs still ached from Declan’s fists. My ass still ached from Moon fucking me. I’d let him. I’d begged him. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

Saint Lucia. I’d let him choose. He stayed. Then walked out. That scar never closed.

Every plan ended with him. Korea. Somewhere quiet. Waking up to that annoyed little frown and his perfect mouth telling me to shut up. I couldn’t let his father down. Couldn’t lose him.

What if one day Moon looked at me and saw what everyone else did?

Irish mafia scum.

No.

Shove it down.

I rinsed off, dried fast, and walked back out with the towel slung low. Misha was sprawled on my bed, flipping through my Korean book like it was porn.

“I’m learning your fiancé’s language. It’s fucking hard though. How does he do it?”

“He grew up with a Korean mom. That’s how.” I dropped the towel and grabbed boxers.

“Wow, dude. Warning next time? I know I’ve seen you naked a million times but still.”

I pulled my shirt over my head and shrugged. “Thought you were gay. There’s no way Adrian Mirovsky is hotter than me.”

Misha closed the book, grinning.