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They were right.
I knew they were.
But this anger inside of me was only getting worse.
“You should have faith in yourself,” Brennan rasped, his fingers squeezing my shoulder now.
“Faith?” I scoffed. “I’m a fucking murderer—”
“Ain’t we all, bro?” Declan bit off. “Pull your head out of your ass.”
“You’d hurt yourself before you’d hurt her,” Conor said smoothly, his voice far calmer than anyone else, but that wasn’t why his words resonated.
“I would,” I admitted.
“So stop with the self-sacrificing, stop with the bullshit. You’re not like us, Eoghan. You’re fighting for a different cause.”
“Geopolitical mindfucks,” I dismissed.
“Regardless, you’re more than just a thug. You’ve earned some peace, baby brother,” Brennan told me softly. “Live it and love it.”
