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“The world is full of angry kids. You’re worrying far too much about this, Declan.”
“Yeah? How about angry ones with his expertise with a fifty-cal?”
I stiffen and my eyes widen as they stab at Gavan’s phone.
That was what the shooter tonight used.
Holy shit, what the fuck am I hearing?
“He’s violent, Owen. We’ve both seen what he can do. There’s a darkness in him, and I know you see it as well.”
“Well, dark or not, he’s long gone, Dec. Relax. Let me pour you a drink.”
“If he finds out, I’m a dead man, Owen.Dead.”
There’s the sound of two glasses clinking. “I’m telling you, he won’t. Or…if he does…let’s pray we’re both long gone and buried.”
Declan snorts a cold laugh. “And God have mercy on whoever’s sitting in our places when he does.”
The audio file ends. The terrace is silent.
“The gun tonight was a fifty-caliber,” I growl quietly, surveying them all.
“And we havenofucking idea where this goddamn son is?” Ares hisses, his eyes darting inside to Callie who is on her phone in the kitchen.
“We don’t know a fucking thing about him,” Cillian growls. “If he’s alive or not, if he knows who he is or not…” He squints into the middle distance. “I’m on it. I trust that this stays here on this terrace, with just us for now?” He raises his green gaze to Ares and Gavan. “Neve and Eilishdo notneed to know about this right now. If ever.”
“Of course,” Ares growls.
“I’m quite serious,” Cillian snarls with a vicious lethality in his voice.
Ares drops a hand onto Cillian’s shoulder. “And I quite seriously agree. You have my word, Cil. Neve in particular had a hard enough time wrapping her head around what her dad did to her mom. I’m not dumping this on her as well.”
“And I don’t enjoy emotionally burdening my fiancée,” Gavan murmurs. “So no, I won’t be talking to Eilish about this.”
Cillian nods. “Thank you.”
* * *
When Cillian,Ares, Deimos, and Gavan take off, I walk back into the big open living area, where Callie is now sprawled on the couch. She looks up, her face turning pink as our eyes lock.
Yeah.
Instantly, I’m remembering the way she moaned. The eager way she writhed for me and came all over my fucking fingers.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. This place is sweet.”
I can see the way she’s putting up a brave front and trying to be flip and nonchalant. More and more I’m noticing that that is her default self-defense strategy. But there’s trying to play it cool, and there’s trying to pretend you’re fine after you’ve been fucking shot at.
“It’s really okay if you’re not,” I growl quietly. “Being shot at is an intense experience. If you want to talk about it—”
“Anythingyouwant to talk about?”
My brow cocks.
Yes…but no.
