Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Líadan

I can't sleep. I'm sitting in the chair next to the bed where Jordan's sleeping so I can be closer to him. Brendan's hand is reaching out toward both of us in his sleep as he twitches fitfully on the hospital bed. We're still in Dr. Kurtz' basement because it's not safe for us to move yet.

The three of us suffered from some smoke inhalation, and I'm dutifully using my oxygen mask as I watch over the two men in my life. I know it's too soon to tell Jordan that I love him, but the iron fist grip on my heart that's been strangling me ever since the window exploded is telling.

I would miss him if he was gone, my life is better because I know him, and dammit a piece of my heart that I didn't think I had anymore is firmly his.

"Lía," Brendan rasps, pulling off his oxygen mask. Dr. Kurtz demanded that we continue to use them for a while longer because of the smoke inhalation. My throat feels raw, while the adrenaline flowing through my body made me not really pay attention to it.

"Yes?" I whisper, coughing as my throat seizes on me. Cormac, and whoever else was outside my home last night are idiots. I'm sure, though, that if I had died, it would be one less inconvenience for them.

It's four in the morning now on Tuesday, and I'm going to need to move around my meeting schedule I think.

"None of this is your fault, and he's fine," he says.

"Should we let him go?" I ask. "Jordan is okay this time. What about the next?"

"We'll find a way to make it so there isn't a next time, Lía. Dr. Kurtz says he'll make sure there won't even be any scars," Brendan grunts.

Dr. Kurtz slathered on a ton of medicated antibiotics with all kinds of healing properties, but I don't know if even he can ensure there aren't any scars. Jordan's back is a mess of cuts from the glass, and some of them needed stitches.

I'm not a vain woman. Scars don't bother me, even though Daddy ensured I wouldn't have any after what Bruin did to me.

The memories always seem to linger.

What if Jordan wakes up and hates me one day? I don't know if I'd be able to survive that.

"Maybe we should let him go," I whisper, tears beginning to flow down my face. "Brendan, he has a family that loves him and we're at war. This time, we got lucky. What happens the next time? Our life isn't ever going to be rainbows and happy moments. He deserves good things, and not our bullshit."

" Milseán , you are just starting to get everything you want and deserve. Hold out a little longer so we can eradicate the scum," Brendan hisses. "Why are you suddenly thinking like this?"

"There's a voice that says it's wrong for me to want more than you," I say, coughing.

"Oxygen mask!" Dr. Kurtz roars down the stairs, making me flinch. I don't think this man ever sleeps, but to be fair, he's been checking regularly on us all.

"Yes, Doctor," I croak, putting the mask back on. Jordan doesn't respond at all, completely passed out. We've been traveling, staying up late, and now we had a goddamned building burned down while we were in it.

"Maybe we're unlucky, Brendan. What if we don't deserve Jordan?"

Brendan sits up slowly, wincing as he shakes his head. "I know we don't deserve him," he says, his voice muffled from the mask. "How do you even begin to deserve a man who anticipates your needs? Jordan is a genuinely good person, and we?—"

"Our very souls are tainted by this life," I finish. "We're planning to scorch the earth of all the evil my father let go free. He didn't care what they did as long as he made money from it."

Pulling sweet oxygen into my lungs as my vision goes spotty from the memories and anxiety, I shake my head.

"There's no way this won't stain our souls after this," I remind him. "Think about the fallout. We're playing God, deciding who lives and who dies."

"Remember what some of these people did to you, what they wanted to do to Layla," Brendan growls. "I don't know who the bastards were that were there the night your father tried to ruin you, but you fought and clawed your way back to me. Back to yourself. Why do you think you don't deserve to be happy?"

Helplessly, I gesture toward Jordan's sleeping form. I don't recommend crying and sucking down oxygen while your throat is sore. It fucking sucks. I'm a damn mess.

"Baby, look at you," Brendan says, leaning forward as he catches one of my tears. Lifting his mask, he sucks it off his thumb. "I never thought I'd taste your tears again. Maybe that's fucked up, but I'm willing to own it."

"I love you. Your black heart is as dark as mine," I say softly. My eyes cut over to Jordan's sleeping body as I take a deep breath, knowing how much this is going to hurt, but doing it anyway is important.

Jordan's heart is too pure for us.

"That's why we have to let him go, Brendan. We can't drag him down with us."

"Lía," he growls but I shake my head. My gaze stares him down until he sags under the weight of it. "You love me…"

"I've always loved you," I say with a small smile. My heart is already breaking as I promise to love Brendan forever while leaving Jordan the moment we're clear to go. It feels heartless, but I can't see any way that we'll get a happy ending.

"You're a part of me. Jordan will never let us go unless we take the choice away from him."

Brendan scowls as he puts the mask over his face again. "Let the record stand that I don't think this is going to go the way you think it will," he grumbles. "Jordan is going to spank your ass for it, and I'll enjoy watching your skin turn red for him."

A ridiculous shiver trails down my spine. No, absolutely not. I can't be turned on by a punishment when I'm leaving Jordan. I have a weakness for him, and I can't afford to be weak. I have to hope his home with his nieces will be far enough away to keep everyone safe. Wanting to keep him with me was a lapse in judgment.

It's certainly not safe by my side.

"If he can find us, he's welcome to my ass," I state before flushing. Ugh that's not what I meant. "Never mind. Get some shuteye, because we'll leave in an hour."

"Three hours!" the old coot yells above us. Fuck me, there's nothing wrong with his hearing.

"Yes, Sir," I sigh, going back to using my oxygen mask. That should give me enough time to stop hacking, at least. The sun isn't even up in the sky yet, we have time before we need to leave.

We may be able to keep all of our appointments too. Careful not to meet Brendan's gaze even as his piercing green eyes stay on my face as he lays down, I force myself to think about all of the things I need to do today. Including finding a new place to live.

This may be the worst Tuesday of my entire life to date.

Jordan

My eyes feel heavy as I open them, groaning as I blink blearily.

"Don't move too quickly now," an older man grunts as he sits down in a chair beside me. It's one of those doctor chairs on wheels so they can move around the room, reminding me I'm at a doctor's home getting medical treatment.

"I feel as if I should hurt more than I do," I mutter. There was so much glass in my back and side since my body inadvertently shielded Lía from where I was standing. I would much rather she be safe than hurt, so I'm happy I was there.

"You're going to want to thank the really good drugs and medical grade cream for that," Dr. Kurtz says with a smirk. His almost colorless eyes are grim as he crosses his arms, despite the smile that quickly drops off.

"What are you doing with the new leader of the Irish mafia, anyway? I wouldn't call this a good life choice."

"It's a long story," I sigh, propping myself up on my forearms. The basement medical area is empty, no other sounds echo, and I get a heavy feeling in my stomach. I recognize it as nausea, swallowing hard.

"They're gone, aren't they?"

"Yes," he says. "She had an argument with Brendan before lighting out of here like her hair was on fire the moment she could. You were all kept here due to smoke inhalation."

Well that explains the uncomfortable mask over my face.

I'm not having any trouble breathing now, so I pull off the mask. In fact, I can smell smoke on my skin from the fire, and I'm sure it's permeating my pants and hair. Wonderful. I smell like a fucked up form of barbecue.

"Líadan," I sigh, slowly easing myself into a sitting position. I can feel where the muscles in my back stretch from the stitches, but still don't feel any pain. My mind is clear, I don't feel drugged, so it must be the topical cream the doctor used.

I don't know how long it'll last though, so I'm being cautious. "Did you overhear anything else?"

Dr. Kurtz's brow raises as he gazes at me. "Just like that?" he asks. "This world isn't easy. I stand on the outskirts of it all, but the things I see aren't pretty."

"I've seen a disturbing amount of not-pretty things in my life," I state. "A little abandonment by my girlfriend and boyfriend aren't going to scare me away."

"Ooh-hoo," he cries. "I think the girl bit off more than she can swallow."

"And I'll remind her of it while she chokes on her decision," I say without remorse. My eyes search for my computer, brows knitting when I see it propped up in a corner. If she left it, that's practically an engraved invitation to stalk her ass.

"Hide and seek is one of my favorite games. I don't care how difficult this life is, what happened wasn't her fault. That's on the men who chose to see her as a threat to their inconsequential existences."

"You have more mettle than she imagines," Dr. Kurtz's rumbles. "She'll hide well as she regroups. It's probably for the better that you don't find her right away."

"I probably should be hiding just as well," I sigh. "I'll disappear and watch her until I'm ready to make my move. I have some things to investigate anyway."

"Love makes people do stupid things," he says, though I have a feeling he isn't talking about me. "I have orders for you while you're wrecking havoc on the city. If you have pain, here's medication for it."

Lifting a filled prescription of pills from the metal cart next to him, he shakes them at me. The sound feels unnaturally loud in the vast silence as I listen to them.

"They'll help take the edge off things without affecting your mind. I have a feeling you won't want to feel tired or fuzzy."

As I nod, he puts the pill bottle down and lifts a jar of cream. "This is antibiotic cream with an added bonus of pain relief. It'll help you from feeling the ache as your skin knits itself together again. It will keep away infection and keep any scarring minimal," he explains.

"We all have our vain moments, and living with the actions of others written on our skin doesn't have to be a foregone conclusion. The memories often have a way of haunting us in other ways."

"Thank you," I say sincerely. "I left the house without any real form of money, which is inconvenient. Is there any way I can repay you for this?"

"Bah," he says, waving away my words. "Líadan already paid me, we're square. Your sweatshirt has already been thrown in my fireplace, so I have other clothes for you. The blood soaked into the fabric and made it a better fit for a horror movie victim than you."

Chuckling, I acknowledge that he's right. I'm going to need to get a new phone, but have my credit card information memorized so I can handle that. Identification will have to be handled on the dark web, because I don't have time to go through the proper channels. I'm not fussy, I'll use it when necessary, though I don't make it a habit.

"Understood. Thank you for everything," I say as he hands me a long-sleeved shirt that's incredibly soft and a sweatshirt.

"It's nothing," he says. "Líadan and Brendan have received the shitty end of the stick in life, so I've seen them off and on over the years. If you're the key to allowing them to have a happier life, I'm all for it."

Despite what he said earlier.

"If she'll stop being stubborn for five seconds, I plan to. I'm sure Brendan went along with what she wanted," I grumble.

I should have my feelings hurt over this, but outside of the initial moment of my stomach sinking, I understand. Seeing me hurt scared her, and she wants me to be safe. Unfortunately for her, I'm a grown ass man and am perfectly capable of making my own decisions.

My fist clenches for a moment before I take the medication from Dr. Kurtz, and rise from the medical table. I'm surprised I managed to sleep as well as I did, but I was exhausted. I'm also grateful that I didn't roll off and fall to the floor.

Princess, I hope you don't get too comfortable. I won't stay away for long.

"Feel free to collect your thoughts and contact who you need to. I would offer you a phone, but based on your computer bag, that doesn't seem to be your preferred mode of communication," he says with a chuckle.

"Thank you," I say as I walk over to pick up my computer bag, happy she didn't empty it to tease me. Moving back to the metal cart to drop my medications into the bag, I finally set up in a corner of a sofa, careful not to lean back.

"I'll be back with coffee and breakfast. Fuck only knows when you'll surface on your own to eat," the doctor mutters, walking toward the staircase.

"Everyone is always trying to feed me," I say with a smirk, my laptop already open and plugged into the wall.

"You should probably listen to us then," he says. "The password for the wireless internet here is GOAWAY. Use all caps. Don't bring the cops to my door."

He still hasn't asked for my name, though if he overheard Líadan speaking about me, he already knows it. Dr. Kurtz deals in information as much as he does medical services.

Linking up the humorous choice in passwords for his internet, I roll my eyes at his wifi name. It's called NOTHOME in all caps. The doctor either has a sense of humor or really doesn't like people. Either is truly possible.

Half an hour later, I have a pickup location for my identification with both a fake name and my real one, an extended rental that allowed a cash payment, and a log of the last known location of Líadan's phone before she ditched it.

The last one wasn't very helpful, but the last few numbers she called were. I know where she's having her meetings at, and a quick glance at the cameras near that location later will tell me if the little brat changed it.

If she wants to stay hidden from me, she'll change everything. I'll search for her and Brendan's faces later on my facial recognition program through the cameras in the city to find them.

I'll let them hide for a day at least while I sort my affairs. It'll give me a chance to put together her birthday present. I found a folder in Seán's virtual storage networks of non-disclosure agreements from the people who took part in the auction on Líadan's seventeenth birthday.

Skyler, the punk that Seán hired to watch over his computer and virtual information, should have paid more attention to where those were stored. It was child's play to find them. I know I didn't trigger any kind of alarm when I came across them, either, so I wonder if the kid cut and ran.

I'll need to do a little digging to see if he did and who he's working for if he stayed. The punk certainly hasn't offered his services to his cousin Líadan, so it's worth a look. Skyler is good at what he does, but I'm a better hacker when I'm not being a reckless idiot.

There's a lesson in that, and I plan to heed it as I work through my present to Líadan. I also plan to give the woman I love a piece of my mind. I don't fucking quit. So neither should she.

Dr. Kurtz is true to his word and brings me breakfast and coffee as I work, though he doesn't speak to me again outside of asking me to leave the dishes where they are when I'm done.

It's just as well because I'm in the groove as I finish up my work.

Belly full and body caffeinated, I put my computer away so I can meet my contact for my identification. I'll wire the money after I confirm that it's not trash work. The dark web is filled with scam artists and con-men, and while I am a good judge of character, it doesn't mean I won't be careful.

Crossing the strap of my bag over my chest, I leave the basement, walking to the stairs.

"Thank you for everything," I say when I see him dressed and ready to leave as well.

"Doesn't make sense to patch you up and then throw you out," Dr. Kurtz says with a shrug. His salt and pepper hair is now covered with a knit hat, and he's wearing a long coat to combat the frigid weather.

I'm going to freeze outside while I'm traveling through the city, but my contact isn't far from here. I'll be able to go into a bank to get a new card and access to withdraw cash soon enough to buy new clothes.

Walking out the front door ahead of the doctor as he locks up, I raise my hand to say goodbye as I head out. I have plans for my brats, but there are things I need to do before I can show them that I'm not fucking going away.