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“You and Rory are smart and can fight if it comes to that. I’ll have men here guardin’ ya, but that didn’t seem to make a difference for Ethan, Eva, and Hannah.”
My breathing is measured because I’m livid he would ask this of me. He says it’s my choice, but he knows my hands are tied. I won’t allow anything to happen to Hannah or Amber, but this isn’t fair. I don’t want to sit here, waiting, while he fights.
“How can you ask this of me? It’s not fair. Not to mention, it’s fucking sexist. I’m expected to stay here, hoping that I’ll see you again. Is that it?”
“Baby, no, this has nothin’ to do with ya being a girl. Y’ve got bigger bollocks than Cian and me combined, and that’s why I need ya here. Hannah can’t protect herself. If yer all together, then we’ll have a fighting shot at winnin’ this.”
“And this has nothing to do with the fact that you’d prefer I stay here where it’s likely to be less dangerous?”
“Of course, I’d prefer ya to stay here,” he confesses without pause. “Yer my everythin’, and if I have a chance at keepin’ ya safe, then I make no apologies for that.”
Goddamn him.
“This is your choice, Cami. It always has been,” Rory says without bite as he knows I’ll tear him to shreds if he insinuates I’m being unreasonable. “If ya want to go with Punky, then do it. I’ll stay here because what Punky says makes sense.
“Sean has managed to outsmart us time and time again. I won’t give him another opportunity to do so. But that’s my choice. Just how whatever you decide to do is yers.”
I’m put on the spot because everything they’re saying makes sense, but the thought of being here, worrying about Punky and whether he’ll come back to me, makes me want to be sick.
On cue, vomit rises. “Excuse me.”
I run to the bathroom with my hand over my mouth, making it just in time as I throw up into the toilet. I’ve barely eaten, but my body won’t quit, and soon, I’m retching, hoping to expel the emptiness within.
Wiping my mouth with some toilet paper, I flush the toilet and turn on the faucet on the sink. Cupping some water, I splash it onto my cheeks because I feel like I’m burning up. It doesn’t help, so I gulp down handfuls of water.
“Baby?”
Groaning, I close my eyes and grip the counter. “You’re not done with your guerrilla tactics yet?”
“It’s not like that,” Punky says. “I’m sorry if ya felt attacked.”
“I don’t feel attacked,” I declare, opening my eyes and looking at his reflection in the mirror. “I’m insulted. I thought we were equals.”
“We are,” he insists, running his fingers through his hair. “That’s why I need ya here. I know ya can protect Hannah. And I know ye can protect yerself.”
“If that’s true, then why not ask Cian to stay here with Rory, and I’ll fight alongside you?”
He averts his gaze, which is all the answer I need.
“Exactly my point,” I say, shaking my head in defeat. “I can’t shake this feeling in my gut that something bad will happen if we split up.”
“Ya think I want ya here with Rory? I hate that he can protect ya while I can’t!” he bellows, arms out wide. “I hate that any of youse are in this position in the first place.”
I turn around and lock eyes with him. “You said I have a choice. Well, my choice is I’m coming with you. Rory can stay here because I agree, someone needs to be here to protect our friends. But he can handle that himself.”
Punky opens his mouth but soon closes it, exhaling in defeat.
I dare him to fight me on this because I know he wishes I would choose what’s behind door number two, but he doesn’t. He won’t be a hypocrite. I also know he won’t do anything devious like tie me to the bed so I can’t leave.
He will support my choice because he loves me.
“Okay. If that’s what ya want.”
“It is,” I counter, folding my arms across my chest.
We’ve come to an agreement, but we may as well be oceans apart. This is something we will never agree on.
Even though I’ve made my choice, I can’t help but feel selfish for it. Like I’ve made it to prove a point. I suddenly can’t breathe. “I need some air.”
