Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 121310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 607(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
“Well, she can fucking forget it. Because I’m getting involved.” My voice is a growl, low and lethal. “And if you think I’m sitting back while you try to handle this alone—”
“Why the fuck do you think I’m here?” She cuts me off, her voice rising. “ Of course, you have to get involved. If this goes wrong, you’re the only one who’ll know what happened. You have to find Mads and tell Bane it’s his father if my leaving doesn’t call off the attack dogs. Do something to fix this clusterfuck. But let me try to fix it first. Please.”
I want to refuse and charge into battle, guns blazing. But another part—the strategist, the one who survived the horrors of my own childhood—recognizes the logic in her words. If I rush in, everyone I love could end up dead. Moira’s right. If there’s one person who can outgun my resources, it’s Brad Blackwolf. And then what happens to Mads?
“Why don’t you just tell Bane about his father?”
She swallows hard, looking down. Then she grabs the paper towel to scrub at her face. “Bane left that world behind for a reason. His father’s obviously a monster. And I—” She blinks hard, clearly fighting tears. “This is for the best, anyway. We both know I wouldn’t be any good for him in the long run.”
My heart cracks at the self-loathing in her voice. I’ve never seen her like this. She’s never so… vulnerable with me. We don’t talk about real things like this. Before I cut her off, we only joked around at the club or if I was barking orders and rules at her. Somewhere in the last handful of years, she went and grew up, didn’t she?
I want to tell her she’s so wrong. That she deserves happiness. That Bane doesn’t deserve her. But I can’t find the words.
She reaches out, resting her fingers on my knee. “Please, Domhn,” she whispers. “I know I fucked up last year. I know I’ve disappointed you in every way a sister can. I brought the vilest piece of shit back into your and Mads’s lives, and even before that, I was too much—all the time—when all you deserved was a normal sister—”
“Stop it, Moira.” The words snap out of me. I can’t bear to hear her talk about herself like this, and I can’t stand to think that I’ve made her believe these things. “I never needed normal. You’re my sister. I always knew you were capable of standing on your own two feet. I just needed you to see it, too.”
She blinks at me, stunned into silence. I wish I had more to give her. I wish I were the kind of man who could find the right words in the right moment to heal the rift between us. But all I have is this small truth: I’ve always believed in her. And I’ve always loved my sister, even when I couldn’t show it.
“I’m going to fix this,” she says, voice steadier now.
“Well, you should have a chance to any second because I texted Bane you were here.”
“What?!” She lurches to her feet, the chair screeching against the floor. “Why didn’t you tell me that when I got here?!”
I shrug, affecting a stoicism I don’t feel. Truth is, I’d forgotten in the chaos of learning about Mads. My mind’s been spinning, jumping from one crisis to the next. “I didn’t know what you’d have to say. And he’s been freaking out since you left. If you were running from him for a good reason, I figured it was best for me to be here when you reunited.”
She drags a hand down her face. “If I’m going to break up with him, I can’t do it here. I need it to be somewhere they’ll see. They’ve probably got us under surveillance back at the church parish house. I’ve got to do it there.” She stands up quickly and shoves a hand at me. “Let me borrow a car and some money.”
I rise to my full height, instinctively slipping into protective older brother mode. “Only if you tell me where Mads is.”
“Fine,” she huffs. “But they’ve probably moved her since I escaped.”
“Don’t care. Tell me.” My voice is tight with determination. I need to get to Mads and do everything I can to save her. I will make up for not protecting her in the first place.
“Keys first.”
My eyes narrow. That’s my sister—always pushing, always negotiating, even now. “They’re in the garage.”
“Fine, then. Money now, keys later.” She rubs her thumb and forefinger together expectantly in my direction.
I roll my eyes but pull out my wallet. Instead of cash, I slap my credit card into her palm. She shoves it in her pocket.
“Give me your phone.”
“Tell me where she is, for shite’s sake!” The urgency in my voice betrays my rising panic. Every second wasted is a second Mads spends in danger.