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“She needed us. She needed me. Someone finally needed me,” he sniffled, looking at the ceiling. “And I wanted our family back. I wanted things to go back to the way they used to be before. Before all this killing, all this insanity, the betrayals, the—”
“And you thought that the right way to get our family back was to kill Ophelia and steal her kids?!” I thundered.
Tristan was the spoiled child of our family, along with Ava, but Kieran and I never did anything to fix it. Our parents doted on them, loved them more than they loved Kieran and me, because we were never supposed to be carefree kids. We were born to be soldiers of the Nightingale empire, unlike Tristan and Ava.
And while both of them knew about the life we led, the life our family led, they never went through half of the things that Kieran and I did. I’ve spent half of my life envying them for being able to live however the fuck they wanted to. For being able to do whatever they wanted to, because Kieran and I didn't have the same opportunity.
And both of them decided to fuck it all up.
I looked to my left, seeing Rodrigo, one of my trusted men, walking toward us. “Take him away.”
“No!” Tristan yelled. “Don’t do this, Kill. Please. I’m sorry.”
Somewhere deep inside of me there was still a small piece that loved my brother, that wanted the best for him, but it was so small, so miniscule, that it couldn’t win against the anger I felt toward him.
“He’s hurt,” I told Rodrigo as I stood up. “Patch him up and send him to St. Lucia’s. They’ll be expecting him.”
“Yes, Boss.”
Rodrigo knelt down and started pulling Tristan up, who thrashed in Rodrigo’s arms, trying to reach me. “Please, Cillian!” His eyes pleaded with me, begging me to let him stay. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I did.”
I had no idea what happened to him and why this sudden change of character, but at least he knew he'd fucked up. That still didn’t mean that I was going to forgive him, that I was going to let it go.
Taking a step closer to him, he stopped trying to escape from Rodrigo’s grip. “Tristan,” I murmured, looking him over, memorizing him. “I will never be able to forgive you for what you did.”
“No,” he breathed out.
“I’ve spent the last couple of years trying to help you, but this…” I looked toward Christian and Evelyn that were now sitting on the ground, with her wrapped around him. “This I would never be able to forgive. You kidnapped her, tried taking away the one person I loved, and that I will never be able to forgive.” I looked up at Rodrigo while Tristan begged to stay, to fix things, but it was too late. He was too late. “Take him away.”
I turned off his screams and the incessant begging as I turned toward the two people I loved. Christian looked at me over Evelyn’s shoulder, his brows pinched in a frown.
My feet ate the distance between us and as soon as I reached them, I dropped down on my knees, wrapping my arms around both of them.
“Is he gone?” Evelyn asked, her voice barely above whisper. She was tired, bruised, but she still clung to the both of us, seeking comfort from the two men she never should have. But now it was too late for her to get away from us, because we weren’t letting her go.
“He’s gone,” I confirmed, pressing my lips to her temple. “You’re safe now.”
“I wanted to kill him,” she suddenly blurted out, shaking in our arms. Christian’s eyes darted to me, the worry evident in them. “I killed Eddie,” she murmured, looking at a spot on Christian’s shirt. A wide smile spread over her face, a complete contrast to the tears streaming down her cheeks. “I butchered him like the monster that he is.” She tilted her head and looked at me. “I would’ve killed them both for you,” she suddenly said, her eyelashes fluttering. I fucking hated seeing the bruises on her skin, that closed eye, and I knew we had to get her to the doctor, but I couldn’t move. “Am I a monster now?”
Such an innocent question with a loaded meaning, but she could never be a monster. Not in my eyes.
“Eve, look at me,” I mumbled, placing my fingers under her chin, making her look at me. Her bloodshot eye was filled with tears, and I hated seeing her like this. “A monster is someone that kills and destroys for the sheer fun of it.” I looked at Christian who nodded at my words. “You, my darling,” I looked back at her, “you could never be a monster.” My lips connected with her forehead at the same time as a shuddering breath erupted from her. “You’re our Angel. The best damn thing that happened to us, and we love you. Both of us.”
She buried her face into Christian’s shirt. “Can we go home now?” she asked, her body going lax in Christian’s arms. “I’m really tired.”
And we did.
We took her to the hospital to check over her injuries, and thankfully there was no internal bleeding or concussion. A couple of bruises and a sprained ankle, but it was nothing that wouldn’t heal.
And seeing the way she looked at us, still smiling and holding onto our hands, told me everything I needed to know—we would be fine.
EPILOGUE
Christian
Early morning sunlightslid between the curtains, illuminating the room a lot more than I wanted it to. I thought we'd pulled the blinds down last night, but obviously not.
Groaning, I turned to the other side of the bed, my hand tapping over the cold sheets, realizing that the two of them weren’t there anymore. My eyes flew open, seeing the empty spot where Evelyn and Cillian slept, the cold sheets, and I jumped up, my heart thundering in my chest, trying to locate them.
