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She’s not showing much, however, when she lifts her head, my eyes zero in on her jugular.
“Is that his name on your neck?”
“Yeah.” She giggles. “I married the Irish enforcer, Stasia. He keeps me well protected, but anything can happen. I’m not his prisoner. I come and go as I please. With a guard, of course. I run the old dance studio on Mayfair Street. If anything happens to me, people need to know who I belong to.”
Every syllable screams how deep she’s living in the life I left.
Yet, she hasn’t stopped smiling.
“If it makes you feel better, Stasia, Lachlan tattooed my name on him as well. When you see him again, look at his ring finger.” She clears her throat. “I can’t let you see where else he tattooed my name.”
My jaw drops. “You’re right. I don’t want to know. Last chance. Please tell me you’re happy.”
“I’m ecstatic. I also spend a lot of time with his mother.” She leans in to whisper, “She’s so sick.”
My heart breaks for Darragh. But if we’re going home, which it’s looking like we are, he’ll see and care for his mother, too.
A cackle lets out from the pile of blankets back in the safe room, and I gasp, “Oh my God, James Patrick.”
I rush back inside and lift him into my arms. My breasts are swollen, painful, and leaking. He was due for a feeding, but I let him sleep. Carrying him out, I’m halted by Katya beaming at me.
“When did you have your baby?”
“A week ago.” I swallow. “I have to feed him. Come with me to the nursery?”
“Of course.”
We amble down the attic steps, me holding J.P., and Darragh guiding Katya down, since Lachlan is still with Sophie in her bedroom.
In front of the nursery, Darragh, hiding the pain he’s in, drops a kiss on my forehead, then J.P.
“I’m going downstairs to speak to my brothers and figure out who to call to get the doors and windows repaired before we leave. Please keep Sophie up here with you.”
“I will.” I lay a gentle kiss on his lips. When he steps away, Katya’s eyes are wide as saucers. “Come on, I’ll explain everything.”
“I thought Darragh and Cormac were twins,” Katya whispers, glancing behind her.
“They are. But…” I take cautious steps into the nursery, the room where I first saw the mercenaries and see nothing is amiss. “Cormac seems to have gone over to the dark side, like his older brothers.”
“You mean my husband.” She straightens her back, obviously so proud of him. “Lachlan told me you were with Cormac all this time, but now you’re with Darragh?”
“My bra is all wet. I’m leaking. Can you hold him?” I buy myself time to explain.
“Absolutely.” Katya takes the baby and kisses his fingers. “Our babies will be cousins, you know.”
“We’re sisters,” I remind her as I snap off the wet bra and toss it into J.P.’s hamper. “Our babies were always going to be cousins.”
“But our husbands are brothers,” she says, high pitched and happy about it.
“I don’t have a husband. Yet.” I unbutton the flannel shirt to expose my breast.
“Oh. Which brother are you marrying?” she asks all cute.
“Me,” Darragh says from the doorway, wearing a new shirt since the other one had blood on it and Cormac cut the sleeve off. “Right?”
“Yes. We’re getting married.”
A few minutes later, Lachlan appears at the nursery’s door. “Katya, can you keep an eye on Sophie?”
