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He didn’t say anything more for a while and I felt it… the coldness descending. His body tense. The silence. How his arm no longer held me. He was distancing himself.
“It’s going to be okay.”
His jaw tightened and then he threw his legs over the side of the bed and sat on the edge, his hand running overtop his head. “Savvy….”
My pulse raced with panic because I knew what he was going to do. I shook my head, tears pooling. “No. Killian. No.”
“I can’t give you a family. I just can’t do it.”
I sat up, pain forgotten as another type of pain lanced my heart. I settled my hands on his shoulders, my cheek against his back.
“Don’t let him win.”
“This has nothing to do with him. It has to do with me. Who I am, and I can’t give you what you want.”
“You’re saying this now, but in a few weeks or months, it will get better. We can survive this. I don’t want anyone else. There is no one else.”
“There’s always someone else.”
“No. There isn’t. And you damn well know it. Just you. Only you.”
He stood and my insides coiled as he turned and I was met with a mask of cold. “He will never touch you again.”
I choked on a sob as he walked to the door. The wall had slammed down over his emotions. “Fight for me, damn it. Stop fighting everything else and fight for me. For us.”
He opened the door.
“Killian.” He hesitated a split second and then was gone. “I love you,” I whispered as tears streamed down my cheeks.
Three weeks later
I stood on the edge of the river and skipped the stone across the surface of the water.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
It sank beneath the surface and I sifted around with my feet on the spongy grass for another flat stone. I picked one up and rolled it between my fingers as I heard the steps approach. I didn’t turn around. Didn’t care who it was.
“Kite.”
I stiffened then drew my arm back and whipped the stone.
One.
Two.
Three.
Logan came up beside me, casually tossing a stone in the air. He stared across the surface of the water. We both did. Silent. Listening to the gentle splash as the water hit the rocks on its way downstream.
He threw the rock he was holding, and it skipped once then sank. “Too round,” I said.
“Didn’t skip stones much in the compound growing up.”
I passed him a flat stone. “Like you’re slicing the water. Flick the wrist.” I skipped another and Logan watched.
He frowned as he concentrated, then tried again. Three skips.
We did it for a while. Nothing else said between us, just the stones, the river, and us. But I knew he didn’t fly all the way to Ireland to skip stones.
“This where he died?” Logan asked.
“Yeah.” Five feet away. The rock he’d hit his head on was still there, but the water level was lower now. “How did you find me?”
“Same man who found Emily and me in Mexico,” Logan replied.
Deck. “Is he here?”
“No. Luke’s with me. And he’s pissed you left without telling him.”
I bet. I’d asked him to organize twenty-four-hour security on Savvy, but didn’t tell him I was leaving. After I’d watched Mars pick Savvy up from the hospital, I’d taken the first flight out.
The police had released Seamus after questioning, just like I knew they would. There was no proof it was him who assaulted Savvy. No witnesses. They couldn’t hold him. He was too careful. But it didn’t mean I’d let him walk away with his head held high.
Logan tossed another stone. “He’s gone, Kite.”
My muscles tensed, my shoulders sagging at the same time. “Vic.” It was a statement because I already knew. I’d talked to Deck and Vic about what needed to be done.
Vic did what other men couldn’t stomach. He was good at extracting information. Obtaining confessions. My father wouldn’t last long with Vic.
Vic had no sympathy. No remorse for what he did. And he’d make my father hurt for what he did to Savvy.
“He didn’t kill him,” Logan said. “That you?”
I nodded.
“So he’s to leave the country and never come back?”
“Yes.” That was what I’d discussed with Deck and Vic. And if you were ever in Vic’s custody and he threatened you, you’d take it seriously and never put a fuckin’ toenail in the country if he told you to.
“So Vic was your idea?”
“Yeah.”
Logan nodded. “And the ‘leak’ to the press?”
I frowned. “What leak?”
“Some inside scoop about the abuse of his horses and his girls at his clubs. They’re now all talking to the police. Corruption. Payouts. They’re doing a thorough investigation and have frozen all his accounts. He’s ruined and even if he hadn’t disappeared, he’d be in jail for a very long time.”
The two things most important to him—his reputation and wealth. Both stripped from him. Bastard had done it to himself.
