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“No one knows,” Connall says, lifting his gaze to meet mine. “At least I believed that was true. Until now.”
“You didn’t tell Tom?” Beast asks.
“I convinced myself that the stray bullet wasn’t mine. Call it trauma, call it fear, call it what you want. For a long time I blocked it out. I let Tom and the family believe what they wanted. I didn’t tell them. I didn’t tellanyone…” Connall’s voice trails off as he looks at me. “So I ask you again, how did you know?”
“Does it matter?” I ask. “Cyn knows the truth, and it’s up to her what she does with that.”
“Fuck,” Beast says, his voice soft as he regards his best friend. “How are you gonna deal with this?”
“The only way I can,” Connall replies, heavily and resigned. “Whateverpunishment Cynthia deems appropriate, I’ll take it.”
“Connall,” Beast warns, shaking his head. “It was an accident. You were a child.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters, mate,” Beast argues, but as he doesn’t get the response from Connall that he needs, turns to me and says, “Arden, you can’t hold him to this.”
“You’re right, I can’t. But Cyn,shecan,” I reply, before rising to my feet and gesturing for Lorcan and Carrick to follow. “Get some rest. Tomorrow we take down the Skull Brotherhood.”
With that said, we head to our room in silence. A few hours later, as Carrick and Lorcan sleep restlessly beside me, there’s a gentle knock on the door. I ease off the bed and pull the door open only to find my arch nemesis standing before me.
“What do you want?” I grind out, stepping out of the bedroom and pulling the door closed behind me.
“Not me,Christy,” Jakub says, handing me his phone.
I frown, lifting it to my ear. “What is it?” I ask, cutting to the chase.
“There’s something you need to know,” she says, and even though Christy’s thousands of miles away, I get that same strange tug in my chest, the one I always get right before a future yet to unfold is revealed.
14
Cyn
“Cynthia. Wake up.”
My eyes snap open as Faith’s sweet voice is drowned out by the sound of a bell ringing. The incessant ding-dong is like a hammer to my skull. Rubbing at my face, I hiss at the sudden, sharp stab in my ribs, as I twist around to face her.
“What’s going on? What’s that noise?” I ask, blinking away the grogginess and doing my best to ignore the aches and pains all over my body. Fuck, I hurt. I hurt so bad that my vision darkens at the edges and I have to suck in several deep breaths to keep myself from fainting.
“It’s almost time,” she replies softly, the tremor in her voice unmistakable.
“Time? For what?” I ask, pushing upright with a grimace as Faith looks down at me. She’s standing beside the bed dressed in a blood red robe that covers her entire body, the hem brushing across the stone floor at her feet. “What are you wearing?”
“Robes for the celebration. It’s time, Cynthia,” she repeats, her voice soft, filled with trepidation.
The last dregs of a restless sleep float away and reality hits me like a punch to the gut, winding me. “But the celebration evening isn’t until tomorrow,” I say, looking out of the window onto a dark and starry night, blinking back the grogginess and needling pain over every inch of my skin.
“Itistomorrow evening. You’ve slept almost twenty-four hours,” Faith tells me.
“What?!”
She gives me a sympathetic smile, her pretty eyes filled with concern. “It’s the trauma you’ve been through, the stress. I’ve not long since woken up myself.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmur.
“There’s no need to apologise. You needed to rest, to gather your strength. Just like I needed to gather mine.”
“But I was supposed to be looking after you!” I exclaim, anxiety crawling up my spine at the thought of what could’ve happened whilst I was out cold. It doesn’t bear thinking about.
