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“Okay,” Cillian came between the two of us. “That’s enough.” He looked at me, then at her. “Both of you. I’ve no idea what’s going on with you.” His eyes blazed, looking at me. “But it needs to stop.”
“And you.” He looked at Evelyn. “What the fuck was that, kitten?”
Kitten. I winced at the familiarity between the two of them, suddenly feeling like a third wheel, like I didn’t belong here. But whatever string tied all three of us together, it didn’t want me to go. Fuck me, it wanted me to stay. It wanted me to press my lips to Cillian’s, my lips to Evelyn’s, and I fucking hated this weakness coursing through my veins.
“It won’t happen again,” I said gruffly, trying to shake off the need still alive in my system. “I didn’t come here to fight,” I added, looking at Evelyn. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry for taunting you.” She looked remorseful as she said that, but I couldn’t erase her words from my mind. Did she really figure it all out? How? How the fuck could she know that I felt something for him by only seeing us together once?
“I eavesdropped,” she added, wincing as the words left her mouth. “I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help myself. Who’s Tristan?”
CIllian looked at me, his eyes holding barely restrained anger, and I fucking hated the fact that he was so angry at me for what I'd told her. “The pain in my fucking ass,” he answered instead, but I had a feeling he wasn’t talking about Tristan.
He was talking about me.
10
CILLIAN
I couldn’t shakeoff the events from this morning no matter how hard I tried. I was sitting here in the car with Christian in the passenger seat, drowning in the tension between the two of us, and I couldn’t help but think about the way he spoke to Evelyn—the way he spoke to me.
It was almost as if… No, it couldn’t be. He sounded fucking jealous, and I had no idea what to think of that. Was he jealous of her or of me?
He'd fucking lost it this morning, and for someone that was always so level headed, so calm and collected, it was shocking seeing him like that to say the least.
Rain pattered down on the windshield, creating its own symphony, hiding us in the cover of the night as we looked at the back entrance of the shady little club that was known only to those that ran in the underground circles, waiting for my brother to show up.
But neither of us spoke.
After the small display this morning and the apologies between him and Evelyn, Chris practically bolted from my apartment, leaving both Ev and me with more questions than answers, and I had no idea what to think of his behavior. I'd almost lost it when he'd held that knife to her throat, and even though I knew that it was her that pushed him to do it, it did nothing to appease the monster rising in my chest at the mere thought of her being hurt.
But the monster hated the hurt look on his face when I blasted him, and the moment the words left my mouth, I wanted to take them back. I wanted to erase the hurt in his baby blue eyes, but he never gave me a chance. He simply bolted without a word, telling me he would give me a call about the raid we wanted to do tonight.
Evelyn avoided me the rest of the day, hiding in her room, only coming out to eat, after I told her that I wouldn’t go after him. She wasn’t telling me everything, but after she slammed the door of her room right in my face, it was obvious that both of them were pissed off at me for reasons unknown to me, and I didn’t have the strength to figure it out. I found her curled on top of her bed just before I left, and even when I placed a soft kiss to her hair, she didn’t stir, didn’t move, and I hated leaving her all alone without telling her where I was going.
That girl had wrapped herself around my heart, holding it in her grip, and she didn’t even know it. It took me a day to fall for her, to make space in my heart for her, right next to Christian, and I had no idea what I was going to do about all of this.
Could I go on like this, denying myself what I wanted the most?
“There’s movement,” Chris said, his voice raspy from the lack of use, but his eyes weren’t on me—they were firmly plastered on the door we were supposed to be looking at. My men surrounded the building, just waiting for the sign, and when a man stumbled through the door into the pouring rain, my blood heated up when I recognized the way he walked.
“That’s Tristan,” I gritted out, but he wasn’t alone. A girl stumbled after him, and through the rain-covered windshield, I could see that she was arguing with him, yelling, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying from here. He turned toward her, wrapping his hands around her throat, pressing her against the building.
And I lost it.
“Kill!” Christian called after me, but I was already out of the car within seconds, running across the street toward Tristan and the girl, my heart pumping in my chest ferociously, my muscles aching from all the sitting tonight. I didn’t fucking want to be here, chasing after my own brother.
I wanted to be back in my apartment, wrapped around Evelyn, trying to figure this all out, but he had to mess it all up. Another body showed up on the other side of the city just yesterday, and we immediately knew it was him. Tristan had made it his mission to kill every single person that was associated with me. It took us a while to realize that someone was methodically erasing all of my soldiers, but now we knew, we would stop at nothing to capture him.
My body collided with his, throwing us both on the ground, detaching him from the girl almost immediately. Her sobs could be heard even over the sound of the rain and thunder slicing through the sky, but I had only one goal in my mind—to put a stop to Tristan’s insanity.
“Hello, brother.” He grinned like a lunatic, the dark circles around his eyes twisting his features into something ugly. He couldn’t keep on bathing in poison without the consequences showing on his skin. You could hide the rotten parts of your soul only for so long, before it started manifesting on the outside, showing people who you truly were.
And Tristan—he didn’t look good.
His hollow cheeks were marred with bruises, the empty eyes that were once so full of life. As my fists wrapped around his hoodie, I could feel the bones underneath, a clear indication that he wasn’t eating, wasn’t taking care of himself.
“Fucking hell, Tristan,” I growled. “You need to stop, brother.”
