Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

QUINN

DECLAN

I'll be home in a few minutes. Fiona can NOT see me.

She's in her room, taking a nap.

She just went down maybe ten minutes ago.

Is everything okay?

My text goes unanswered, and knowing how bad it can get, I immediately assume the worst. Dropping my phone on the counter, I quickly head down the hall and silently pull Fiona's bedroom door shut.

When I step back into the living room, I'm met with a sight that takes my breath away. Declan. Like I've seen him too many times before. Only this time, it's different, and it chills me to the bone.

Declan stands across the room from me, covered in blood. It's splattered across his face and has nearly saturated his shirt witha deep coating of crimson. The knuckles on both of his hands are split. The cuts have coagulated and his fingers are crusted over with the deep reddish-brown of dried blood as he made his way home.

It isn't the blood that scares me. I've seen him covered in blood and on the brink of death before. It's the complete lack of warmth behind his eyes that has me on edge. They're cold, completely devoid of emotion. It's like his soul has died but his body is here.

"Jesus, Dec!" I exclaim, rushing toward him and feeling over his bloodied clothes for wounds. "Are you okay?"

He stares at me as he shakes his head, but it feels like he's looking through me instead of at me. "No."

"Are you hurt?"

Ignoring my question—and me—he walks to the kitchen and pours himself a drink. His bloody fingers clutching the glass as he pours it down his throat in a single gulp.

"Damn it, Declan. Talk to me."

As though I'm not yelling for his attention, he pours himself a refill, muttering, "You're not my wife. Stop acting like you care."

"Fuck you!" I spit as my palm flies across his cheek before I even realize I've lifted my hand. Tears well in my eyes, and I fight to speak through sobs. "You don't need to remind me that I wasn't enough. You drove that point home fifteen years ago and again when you gave the life I wanted to someone else. But fuck you, Declan, for having the audacity to tell me I don't care about you when you know damn well I've spent my whole fucking life in love with you."

"Fuck, that's not what I meant," he insists.

"It's sure as fuck what you said, though. Clean yourself up before your daughter wakes up. She doesn't need to know what kind of man you really are." I storm from the kitchen and into my room. I close the door, and I crumple to the floor before falling apart, hating that I let him do this to me again and wondering why I didn't let go after the first time.

My bags are packed. I'm heading to Ireland in the morning to visit Mhamó and tour Trinity College in Dublin before officially accepting my scholarship there. This is the first time I'm not looking forward to this trip. At least, not as much as I usually do. I don't know how I'm going to make it that long without seeing Declan—because we haven't spent a day apart in six months. He's going to use the time that I'm away to break our secret to his brothers, since they are all somehow still oblivious to our relationship. And then, in the fall, he's going to return to Dublin with me.

I wanted to spend the night alone with him. A chance to talk and say goodbye, but Conor, Liam, and Tristan were all adamant they were going to throw me a going away party. Considering I'm only going to be gone a few weeks, I'm pretty sure it was just an excuse to have a party. It's already in full swing when Liam pulls to a stop out front . When I walk toward the front door, I'm surprised to find Declan sitting on the front stoop instead of inside.

"Let me borrow Quinn for a minute so I can say goodbye," He lightly grips my wrist and pulls me from his brothers as we walk up the steps. I take a seat beside him as the boys head inside.

"Bold move, Dec." I tease, but he doesn't crack the slightest hint of a smile, and I immediately realize something is wrong. "What's going on?"

"I'm not going to tell him." He shakes his head.

"Fine." I squeeze his hand. "We'll tell Conor together. He'll understand."

Declan slides my hand from his and places it on my thigh. "He won't. You don't know him like I do."

"What are you saying?"My tone is laced with hurt and confusion.

"I'm not going to ruin my relationship with my brother over you. He's my family. You're just some girl I'm sleeping with."

"You don't mean that." I shake my head. "You love me. You're moving to Ireland with me so we can start a new life. One that won't end with you in prison or getting shot again."

"Do you really think that's true?" His words are cold and heartless. "Do you think that I'm going to leave my family behind? Or that if I really cared for you, I would've hidden you from the most important people in my life?"

"Declan!" I shout his name, tears streaming down my face, as he stands.

Favoring the relatively fresh wound above his hip as he traverses the stairs, he groans, "I'm not going to lose my family over a stupid mistake."

I never saw the inside of my going away party, and I never said goodbye to anyone. I just gave Declan exactly what he wanted. I erased his "stupid mistake" and made myself disappear.