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“Aye. And I’ll never tell a soul, Lachlan. I’ll be in charge one day, and I’ll always protect you.” He cups the back of my neck. “Ma said you got your acceptance to Fordham. I’m proud of you.”
“Proud.” I push him away. “Da bought my acceptance. My grades are shite.”
He cocks his head. “I don’t want you to go back to that church until we figure out a way to get rid of Eamon. You’re starting Fordham this summer, not the fall. And living on campus.”
“No!” I feel the walls closing in on me. “I’m going on the summer retreat with Father Eamon.”
“Over my dead body, Lachlan. You’re not to be alone with that man ever again. It’s either Fordham this summer or Ireland with me and Norah.”
I certainly don’t want to be a third wheel with Kieran and his new girlfriend. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
A shadow approaches, and my da comes into view. “Maybe he can’t. But I can.”
When I’m not on my back, I’m a few inches taller than him, but he still scares me. He’s powerful. Even Kieran shirks back. Da loves us, but there’re eight of us. He rules with an iron fist because he can’t risk any of us saying or doing something that will bring heat to our doorstep.
“Lachlan…” He goes breathless, seeing the bandage on my face. “You heard your brother. You’re getting out of Astoria and away from Eamon. There’s a terrible scandal brewing. I can’t have you walking around with that hideous scar on your cheek, advertising you were there when Foster was killed. I got your name stricken from the record as being a witness.”
My da’s power in Astoria was nearly unmatched back then. I felt high and mighty bearing his name, but after that day, I realized I had a lot to learn.
About everything and everyone.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Katya
“Only,thelessonsthatreally stuck all these years were how to kill, and how to do it without emotion.” Lachlan returns to the present. “All I needed to do was turn off my heart completely.” He stares at me, making this personal between him and me. “For years, I refused to let down my guard and expose my heart to someone.”
I close my mouth when it dries up because it’s been hanging open for several minutes. “Have I hurt that ability?”
He kisses my hand. “No. You make me stronger.” Glancing at his phone, he says, “Katya, we should get going. We have plenty of time to talk more this weekend.”
It occurs to me it’s a Thursday. I suspect the school will be closed tomorrow and my rehearsals canceled. “I’d like that.”
He brushes his mouth over mine and whispers hoarsely, “I was so worried about you.” The intensity in his voice draws more tears from me, and next, I’m sobbing in his lap.
“I’m sorry, Lachlan.”
“For what, little wife?”
Sniffing, I finally tell him, “Idon’tlike that. Calling me little wife. Not anymore. Like I’m insignificant.”
He scoffs. “It speaks to your size and how delicate and precious you are to me.”
“Exactly. I’m not precious or made of glass. You caught me at a bad time. My world was shredded when Papa forced that marriage on me. And now this.”
“This… As in our marriage?” He grins.
“What’s so funny?”
“The fighter in you is coming through. That sharp spunky girl I talked to that day at the gazebo and in the church parking lot.” He gently gets me to my feet. “I like it. But I don’t believe in coincidences, Katriane.”
I amble to one of my bureaus and take out a pair of clean underwear. Slipping them on, I say, “Do you mean us meeting up in the church?”
He goes into my closet and takes out my weekender bag. “Aye. Besides teaching us how to use weapons and how to stalk prey, another side of my training was mental. Philosophical. And metaphysical.”
With a bundle of shorts and T-shirts from the drawers in my hand, I drop them into the open bag. “Metaphysical?”
“The idea of ethereal forces. That something greater is out there guiding us. Directing us.”
