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“I can’t force Cami to feel somethin’ she doesn’t. I always knew that. I just thought one day, she’d stop lovin’ ya. But she didn’t.”
I sigh as I hate hearing my friend so low. I decide not to tell him that I know what happened between them. I don’t want to cause Babydoll any more pain. But what I do need to share is that Babydoll and I aren’t related.
“Can ya meet me at the castle in about an hour?”
“Of course,” he replies, and his acceptance makes me happier than I care to admit.
“Grand. I’ll phone Cian as well.”
“Just like old times, so it is,” he says, but we both know those times have come and gone.
“I’ll see ya soon.” I hang up and send a text to Cian as they both have a right to know what I’m planning.
However, I need to do something else first.
Jumping into the truck, I look into the visor mirror and grin—a sinister grin that has laid dormant until now.
My mum’s voice echoes softly, a reminder that her memories are still present. I just need to know where to look.
“I want ya to be someone else. I want ya to pretend yer anywhere but here. Whatever ya see, whatever ya hear, I want ya to know it’s not real because yer not really here.”
“All right, Ma. One more time.”
I’ll give it to Hannah, she has good taste because the moment I step foot inside my house, I think I’m at the wrong address.
I don’t know how she pulled this off, but she managed to deck my house out with everything I’d need and so much more. The kitchen is sparkling with brand-new appliances, some of which I have no idea what they do. The living area is fitted with a comfy black leather couch, a coffee table, and a huge TV mounted on the wall.
The king-size bed is covered in silk and satin. But it’s what hangs above it that makes this house my home. It’s the drawing I sketched what feels like a lifetime ago. I suppose it was.
“Y’ll always come back to me, will ye not?”
That’s what I asked Babydoll when I drew this picture for her. This abstract piece is one of my favorites and that’s because it’s how I see Cami—free.
I haven’t drawn in so long. It’s weird looking at this piece and remembering the way I felt, sitting behind the easel and letting go. I wonder if I could still do that now? I also wonder where Hannah found this drawing?
All questions are put on hold, though, when Rory announces his arrival.
I try not to let my guilt show when I walk past the bathroom—the place where I devoured his ex-fiancée without remorse—and into the living area to greet Rory. He smiles, but it’s strained. This is fucking weird for us both.
“Hey.”
Rory whistles, taking in the grand state of my house. “Ach, yer gaff is class.”
“I’ve Hannah to thank,” I reveal. “I have no idea what half the shite does.”
Rory laughs, turning around to face me.
I remember a time when us three boys were thick as thieves. But now, so much has changed. I don’t want to drag Rory into my bullshit, but I want to be honest with him. Babydoll is right—a man without friends is a man without power.
I can’t do this alone.
If he wants nothing to do with this, then I’ll respect his choice because he made it. Unlike Babydoll, whose choices were taken away from her. No wonder she’s fucking angry with me.
Fuck.
“Rory, no more small talk. I need to tell ya somethin’.”
Rory swallows, placing his hands into his pockets.
