“Thank you,” I tell him, and hang up the phone. Christ. He’s right. This is far too big for me and Tiernan. I look at Fiona.
“We have to go home is right,” I tell her. “I’m sorry about your classes.”
“They’re shite,” she says, her chin jutting into the air. “Could do just as well at home.”
They’re not, but I know she’s brushing them off to justify returning home.
“Get dressed,” I tell her. “I need to talk to Tiernan, and we need to make arrangements. You sure you’re okay with leaving Aisling?”
“I’ve no choice, do I?” she says. She still won’t really meet my eyes, and I wonder what’s going on. I know she’s devastated by the news from home. Is there something else going on?
Tiernan messages me, and tells me to meet him in the lobby. We get ready to leave, packing up our things like nomads. God, I long to be home, back on the streets of Ballyhock. I want to be home again, and this time, I want her with me.
Can I keep her safe? How can I, when Calum himself says there aren’t enough of us here to protect her?
“Fiona…” my voice trails off. She won’t talk to me. Won’t speak at all. I ask her questions and get mumbled, one-word answers. I let it go for now. We need to meet with Tiernan, need to make sure everyone’s safe.
We pack our things and go to the lobby. She goes straight to Tiernan and tells him about Sheena. Still, she won’t look at me.
“When do you go?” he asks, his face pained after talking to him about his sister.
“Need to go soon, don’t we?” I say. “Jesus, I hate to leave you like this, brother.”
He shakes his head. “I’ve one sister in Ballyhock that needs the other. Don’t think of me at a time like this. It’s the right decision, Lach.”
She still won’t look at me, and I don’t know if it’s my imagination, but when I reach for her hand she turns away. What’s going on with her? Is she pulling away from me? And if she is, why?
“I’ll have Aisling pack up my things,” she says in a distant voice.
“Fiona.”
“Aye?” Her gaze is over my shoulder.
“Look at me, love.”
She reluctantly obeys. But I don’t see the woman I’ve come to know, the woman I love. I see the broken girl I met in the dilapidated kitchen in Stone City five years ago. I reach for her, but she pulls away.
“Don’t, Lachlan. Don’t.”
“Why won’t you look at me?” I want to shake her until her teeth rattle. She’s everything to me, but she won’t even look my way.
“I don’t know,” she whispers. “I can’t explain it. But it seems everything I’ve feared is beginning to happen. And I don’t want… literally everything to vanish.”
I tried to let her go. I tried to let her find her way, to chase her dreams, and now I’m dragging her back to Ballyhock. I can’t help but blame myself for this.
I know that I’m to blame. I bloody know it.
“Don’t talk right now, Lach, please,” she whispers, but I don’t care. My only job right now is to protect her. Get her home. See to her safety and return to her family. I sigh. Where she belongs.
Chapter 17
Fiona
I feel like a complete fool and a total arse.
Lachlan came all the way from Ballyhock to me, to see to my safety and wellbeing. And now, I can barely stand to look at him.
What I can’t explain is that it isn’t him that’s to blame. It’s me.
I’ve suspected that I’m broken, that a part of me doesn’t work the way it’s meant to. And these past few days with Lachlan have confirmed just that.
He loves me, and I love him, but I’ll always be that broken girl from Stone City.
Can I really be whole again?
My poor sister’s mourning a devastating loss, and I’m here in Boston. I came this far to find myself and lost a part of myself along the way.
I’ve ruined everything. He deserves someone whole, unlike me. Someone who won’t hold him back with her endless doubts and fears. Someone older… more mature than I am.
I wish I had my phone. I wish I could talk to Megan.
Lachlan’s own cold resolve confirms my decision to pull back. To give him space. There’s a hard set about his jaw, and his eyes are dark and brooding. I want to ask him what’s wrong, but that would show that I care.
He asked me to trust him. Hell, I do. He hasn’t done anything but earn that trust. I’ll be forever grateful for everything he’s done for me.
I’ll never forget the triumphant look on his face when Calum pulled the trigger and killed my assailant, nor the way Tiernan was ready to shed blood just as easily. I love my brother and Lachlan, but they are ruthless killers. Joining myself to Lachlan only pulls me further in. I may never resurface. I sigh. I thought I’d made my peace with this.
Why do the wounds of my youth resurface now? Will I ever make my peace?
My heart is heavy. I’m submerged in a well of sadness I can’t escape. I watch as he makes plans for us to go home, to return to Ballyhock. I go along with him, unable to give voice to what I fear, what’s consuming me right now. I can tell my own reticence right now hurts him, and he’s responding with anger of his own.
“Right then,” he finally says. “We’re leaving in an hour.”
I feel like an utter failure. I got a scholarship here, came all the way to Boston to make something of myself, and I’m going home with my tail between my legs. Home to what? I can’t move back in with Sheena and Nolan. I can’t give myself fully to Lachlan, and that knowledge makes my heart grow heavy with dread.
Why can’t I? What’s so wrong with me that I can’t be who he needs me to be?
“Stay by my side,” he says tersely. “You hear me?”
“Of course I hear you,” I snap.
He’s got several large parcels in his arms, the few things I want to bring back home with me right away.
“What the hell is going on with you?”
I’m hurting, I want to tell him. There’s an ache deep inside me.
But I can’t give voice to those feelings. I don’t want him to think I’m any more broken than I am. So, I only shrug. “Hard to leave when I had hopes of staying,” I finally tell him. “It’s nothing personal.”
It’s utterly fucking personal.
He opens his mouth to speak and then closes it and shakes his head as if second guessing himself.
“What?”
“Get in the car,” he snaps, jerking his head at the waiting car.
“Fuck you,” I mutter under my breath.
I want to cry, because I don’t even know what’s caused this rift between us. It seems like only minutes ago he was bringing me to climax, holding me to his chest, our heartbeats syncing with our hopes and dreams. And now I feel like there’s a wedge between us.
“Where are we going?” I ask him, and as soon as I do, I realize how metaphorical my question sounds.
Where are we going?
Where do we go from here?
“Runway. We’ll take a private jet home.”