Chapter 10

Ten

Q ueenie

Rolling over in the bed, I reached out, surprised to find myself alone. Where was Cillian, I wondered as I rolled back over my side to see the clock read 2:52am. Did he retreat to the guest room?

I'd given the okay for him to stay with me, as everything about his presence last night had consoled me long enough to fall asleep in his arms. I don't know why I sought his stability and comfort. In just the past few days, nothing had flowed right between us. Neither of us had truly wanted to be here.

He blamed me for stealing precious years from his life, and for the longest he had been the boogey man haunting my thoughts. But then I saw another side to him, one who saw me through something hard and traumatic, in ways I didn't know a gangster like him was capable of.

To wake up without him, the space here had felt empty. Lost. Perhaps even a bit scary. Fighting back nerves, I stood from the bed to go to check on him in the tiny guest room. Maybe it wasn't that small but it was half the size of this room, and given that he was a larger man, I couldn't see him being comfortable in that teeny twin bed. No matter how much he claimed it to be more comfortable than prison.

Skittering to that room, I knocked, the blood draining from my face to learn he wasn't there. My heart filled with relief to hear the jingle of keys struggling outside the front door, and I quickly removed my scarf to fluff some life back into my curls and tied the scarf at the waist of his dress shirt to give the top more shape. When he didn't make his way instantly to the bedroom, I exited to investigate, only to find him in the second bathroom removing his clothes. Blood stained and reeking of nothing but death.

"Cillian," I called out, though when he turned to me, my mind drifted back to the moment he had done something unspeakable. "What did you do? Please, please don't tell me that you went and did something terrible." He turned back to the mirror, placing a gun on the bathroom sink.

"It's best of you don't ask then. I don't want you worrying all night about nothing that's worth speaking of." Frustration climbed its way through me as I fought the urge to just obey him.

Yes, it would have been easier not to know, but was this what it was going to be like being married him? Only knowing the surface without the reason behind his actions? Pretending he was kind and good, when he was really just the opposite?

Maybe that was the way the women of my mom's time were. But I was tired of being stuck in some corner being told how to act and being told what to be. If I was going to be this man's wife, I had to know everything about what that meant. I was tired of being told that because I was a woman I wouldn't understand.

"Cillian, just when I was putting aside my biases and seeing a good man in you, you come home wearing what looks like someone's blood all over you. I only asked you for a few hours. And it was nice, from what I can remember. But then you go off in the middle of the night and do something foolish. Who the hell are you, Cillian Sullivan? Because the man that comforted me hours ago isn't the man that came walking through that door just now." He turned to me, calm in his resolve, his blue eyes gleaming with controlled rage.

"What do you want from me, Queenie? To tell you that I'm a saint? When I leave this house, the man I'd like to be…for you, I have to leave him here . Because out there I have to be the wolf, because the wolf is the part of me that can do what it is I do . I'm gonna be bloody terrifying sometimes. I'm gonna do fucked up shit after fucked up shit. I can't fix the way I am.

I'm just mad in the head. But it makes it easier to rid the world of people worse than me. It's the one thing I'm good at. And I'm not going to apologize for having to access different parts of me. For you, I could just be the man. But it's never going to suppress the wolf inside. The beast, he's always gonna be there."

If nothing had proved that more, it was his blood-soaked clothes and disappearance into the night. I stood there silently, trying to form words but coming up short every time my lips parted. Relief washed over me when he broke the silence.

"You didn't see yourself hours ago. You think I don't know what it's like to feel that pain? That shame? I do . Mine was different, but still cuts the same. I never wanted to do things I was told to do, but I didn't have a me to protect me from the ones hurting me. It was just…so many. After a while they starting blurred into one. I just stopped seeing them as people. Most of the time, I ain't decent. But you're my wife now, and I'd rather you see me as a bad man who does everything in his power to make his wife feel safe. Than for you to see me as a good one, who stood by and did nothing. I'm a Sullivan, and one thing we Sullivans ain't, are fucking cowards." I cradled my arm speechless and unable to move.

On one hand, I could hate him. The monster he hid had done awful things. Things I knew couldn't bear to know. But the man?

The man had been gentle with my delicate hair. He had been patient when I was being needy and clingy. And the man above all, made me feel secure long enough to fall asleep after a catastrophic nightmare. I never felt that safe with any man, not even the one who helped birth me. As if reading my mind Cillian spoke again, removing his blooded shirt to reveal strong hard muscles beneath a bed of intricate tattoos.

The tattoos on his knuckles were always visible, but I'd never noticed his bare arms or chest before, so I hadn't been aware he had a collection of them. All had Celtic nods to them. A wolf howling to the moon—or at least that's what it looked like to me, on his chest. A band of Celtic knots on his forearm, and a skull on his sculpted back. Perhaps that was why it was so easy to fall asleep in his arms.

"You can hate me all you want. But when it's all said and done, I'll be damned if another man comes around making appearances in your nightmares. I reckon you suffer enough of that with me." At that he turned away, bringing a brush and stain solution to the sinks running water. I decided in that moment I would just leave him to it. There was no use in arguing about something he couldn't undo.