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Both of us were pains in the ass, bullheaded, without the good sense to know when to quit when we were ahead...
Which was why the next words to fall from my lips were:
"Is there a reason you're all standing around me like this? It's kind of creepy."
"You're the one who managed to sneak into my penthouse, and breached my security. Just because Star is an ally doesn't mean your actions are consequence-free."
I was ready to deal with the consequences, especially after what I'd come close to handling downstairs. I just didn't need them standing around me like this. It was giving me ideas.
Ideas I really didn’t need to be having, not when I’d just fended off a murder attempt in my apartment.
Okay, enough time spent wasted by thinking with my ovaries; I began to process exactly how badly I was hurt instead.
I knew there were no broken bones, but that didn’t diminish how every part of me felt as if I’d been run over by a Mack truck and my shredded sweats, the hole in them even bigger as they’d torn it wider to bandage me up without stripping me down, were soaked through with blood, which was really gross.
Damn, I needed a shower.
Gnawing on my bottom lip, I decided to blank out the other brothers, and focused on the one who had gotten me out of trouble all those years ago.
I had no reason to think he would help me now, not after everything that had happened at TVGM. I’d been lucky that he’d bothered with me in the past, but as we looked at one another, our gazes tangling much as atoms might before nuclear fusion, I had a feeling he’d be my only hope.
With the Sparrows gunning for me, it hit home just how worthy my cause was. They wanted to silence me. Aidan could be my one true chance at getting out of this alive while exposing the bastards.
I just wished that my brain wasn’t still foggy. To the world, I presented a ditzy façade, because that was what people expected from Dagger Daniels’ daughter. They didn’t realize I was a shark who’d do anything for a story. But right this second, I felt like the airhead I usually projected.
"Talk to me."
With those three words, it was as if the rest of the room's occupants faded without me having to pretend the brothers weren't there.
The discordant decor that was anything but comforting, the weird diamanté-studded cat that was wearing a red-and-white 'Where's Waldo?' scarf which was propped on the sofa by my feet, the men who were crazy handsome and all dressed as if they belonged in a Quentin Tarantino movie, and the myriad pains in my body seemed to disintegrate into dust.
It was just me and Aidan.
I’d ask where we went wrong, but there’d never been anything right about us.
I’d never even kissed him, and he’d never tried to cop a feel.
We'd eaten a meal together, he'd held my hand, had pressed one of his to the small of my back. The tips of his fingers had trailed over my nape when he’d helped me put on my coat before we headed out for dinner.
That was the sum of the physical interactions we'd shared.
But in the here and now, as I looked at him and he looked at me, my body remembered him. It was hardwired to never forget him.
Which was way more terrifying than Pennywise.
"Savannah." There was a rumble to his tone, a warning, something that hit me in so many ways that I was hard pressed not to shiver.
There was little point in lying to him. Men like these had heard far worse stories than the one I was about to tell. I just had to pray that they weren’t involved with the Sparrows. I had to pray that my faith in Aidan wasn’t wasted, and considering I was still alive and that he hadn’t had me killed as promised, I didn’t think it was ridiculous to have faith in him.
"Have you heard about my exposé?" I whispered.
"Yes, my sister-in-law has apparently been keeping Eoghan well-informed on the situation."
I studied him, noticing that his cheeks were a little gaunter than before. The strain around his eyes deeper, the bridge of his nose had thicker creases, and he was markedly thinner than before, while still muscled. None of that took away from his appeal.
Those life lines, proof of his pain, were like a story that his features silently told the world. Stories were my jam. My lifeblood. So his not only filled me with questions, but made me concerned for him.
Aidan wasn't just one of New York City's most eligible bachelors. He was the heir to the O'Donnelly throne. An emperor in the making. At least, of the underworld.
