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“I can’t,” I cry. “I can’t do it right now.” I need to get out, to run in the opposite direction, to do something to take my mind off these things that are running through my head. “I’m sorry, Ciarán. I can’t.”
“It’s okay, Tinks,” he murmurs, coming closer and wrapping his arms around me. “I know what you saw today was horrifying and will stay with you for a long time. If it’s too much...”
“No, it’s not that. I don’t care about that. You did what you had to do.”
“Then what?”
Sagging into his embrace, I’m exhausted. “I’m tired and I think I’m coming down with something,” I lie.
“Let’s get you to bed.” He leads me over and sits me down on the edge of the sumptuous king-sized bed.
“Shouldn’t I be playing nursemaid? I’m worried about Thal.”
“He’s fine. He’s asleep.”
“What about his concussion?”
“I’ll keep an eye on him. Not our first rodeo and definitely not our last.”
Nodding, trusting him to take care of everyone, I kick my shoes off and, not bothering to undress, I sink into the bed with a sigh.
“I’ll make you some tea.”
“Thanks.” Feeling guilty, I give him a smile, but he can see it doesn’t reach my eyes and smiles back sadly. I know I’m worrying him, and Ishouldspeak up, but I just can’t help feeling my gut is right on this and to keep quiet. For now. Just until I know more.
Turning over and curling up, tears seep out of my eyes, and I squeeze them shut. All that time I was with Aunt Margaret, and I could’ve been with my parents.
No matter which way you twist it, that fucking hurts.
14
SUMMER
The shrill beep of the alarm clock startles me from sleep. Groggily, I fumble to silence it and blink against the pale rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains. For a blissful moment, everything seems normal and routine.
Then, like a crashing wave, the events of the past weeks flood my mind - the danger, the violence, my growing entanglement with Ciarán and Cathal. The ever-present knot in my stomach returns.
Lying there for a moment, alone, I wonder where Ciarán is. Cathal doesn’t share this bed with me and it’s disappointing. I hope one day we all cram into it and I can sleep nestled between them. Not that they sleep much. Either of them. Guess it’s part of the life.
Sitting up, I rub my eyes, feeling a yawn building in my chest. The room is silent except for the faint sounds of the city outside. I take a deep breath and slide out of bed, my bare feet landing on the cool wooden floor.
Stretching my arms above my head, I feel my muscles ripple under my skin. The thought of Ciarán and Cathal, their strong bodies pressed against mine, sends shivers down my spine. I can almost feel their hands on me, their lips on mine.
But then the reality hits me. We’re not just involved in some steamy threesome. Well, twosome with a strong possibility of evolving. We’re facing danger at every turn. It’s a heady combination that leaves me constantly on edge.
Still, I can’t help but long for their touch. Their fierce protectiveness over me has only heightened the attraction I feel towards them.
Shaking my head, I try to clear my thoughts, knowing that dwelling on them will only lead to trouble. Instead, I make my way to the bathroom and turn on the shower.
As the water cascades over me, I let out a sigh of relief. The heat seeps into my bones, washing away the tension and leaving me feeling renewed.
Cleansing myself, the soapy foam slides down my body like a layer of sweet frosting. Washing my hair, I breathe in the citrusy scent of shampoo and let the tears fall, as is my ritual. No one knows, no one hears. It’s just me and the hot water.
After a few minutes of self-pity, I turn the water off and towel myself dry, the fluffy black cotton cozy and comforting against my hot skin.
Outside, I can already hear birds chirping and the distant sound of traffic. It’s all sonormal.But then again, maybe that’s what drew me to Ciarán and Cathal in the first place. The need for something different. Something thrilling.
Throwing on some underwear and my robe, I towel dry my hair and venture to the kitchen. Preparing a modest breakfast of strong coffee, buttered toast, and a small bowl of fruit, I feel I might need a shot of whiskey to go with this and the matter at hand. The familiar rituals soothe me somewhat, providing a veneer of normalcy.
