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No, goddammit, NO.
I pull myself close to her, panting like I’ve just run a marathon, my vision blurring as I touch my forehead to hers.
“I love you,” I choke. “I’ve loved you since the night I saw you.”
I wish I’d told her sooner than the second before we died.
34
EILISH
My eyes blink open,and I’m staring up at a familiar ceiling. My brows furrow, and I wince as I try and swallow. My throat is dry. I try again, my breath coming in a rasp.
“Here, try this.”
I startle, whipping my head to the side as my vision slowly unblurs. Cillian smiles quietly from his chair beside the bed, his outstretched hand holding a glass of water with a straw in it.
“Where…” I focus on the room behind him, and around me.
Gavan’s bedroom.
“Take a sip,” Cillian says gently, guiding the straw into my mouth.
I sip gingerly, feeling the water trickle down my dry throat.
“I have the same reaction to saline drips,” he grunts. “Mouth goes dry as a fucking bone.” His eyes—green, just like mine—pierce into me. “Do you know where you are?”
I nod slowly. “Gavan’s—”
Then it hits me. Itallcomes rushing back. I choke, bolting upright with a strangled scream before Cillian jumps up and grabs me.
“Easy. Easy, Eilish,” he growls. “You’re okay—”
“Gavan—”
“Isfine,” he says firmly, taking my shoulders and guiding them back to the pillow behind me. “He’s okay. Everyone’s okay.” His brow knits. “Well, everyone who matters.”
“What…” I shake my head. “I blacked out. My wrist…” I glance down, shivering when I see the gauze and bandage wrapped tightly around my wrist.
“You nicked your radial artery.” His jaw clenches. “I won’t lie, we almost lost you, Eilish,” he says quietly. “We might have, if Gavan hadn’t—”
There’s a soft snore from across the room, and I blink in surprise when I snap my head around and realize there’s someone curled up asleep in the oversized easy chair in the corner of the bedroom.
Neve.
“She was sitting where I’m sitting right now for the last fourteen hours. Wouldn’t leave your side.” He smiles. “She only went over there to ‘close her eyes for a second’ because I threatened to kick her out if she didn’t.”
I grin, looking over at my sleeping sister before I turn back to Cillian. “Wait, did you say fourteen hours?” I frown. “Did I go to the hospital?”
Cillian shakes his head. “Castle called Dr. Blythe at the same time he was breaking land speed records racing to get here.”
Through the fog in my head, I dimly remember that. Dr. Blythe is legit one of those mob doctors from the movies—a surgeon who sometimes operates out of veterinary clinics for patients with both cash and reasons not to go to the hospital.
Which, of course, isexactlyhow my uncle knows him.
“Castle kept you stable until Blythe got here and did his thing. Stitched you up, gave you a few transfusions, and then pumped you full of sedatives and saline so you could rest up.”
I swallow, nodding as my eyes lock with Cillian’s.
