Page 65 of When Kings Rise

I step deeper into the bathroom. “I’ll help you.”

He immediately shakes his head. “I won’t let you get hurt.”

“I won’t give up.” I raise my head. Seeing the marks on his body has solidified my decision.

Diarmuid steps closer to me and takes my face in his hands. “Troublemaker,” he says with a soft smile.

“But we must find out what happened to Sofia Hughes. I can’t let it go, Diarmuid,” I state.

He rests his forehead against mine. “Okay, Troublemaker.”

I lean back so I can look up at him. “Now, get in the shower.” He needs to wash off the blood; we need to see the true extent of his injuries.

He slowly takes off his trousers, his back to me again, and my heart squeezes. I want to ask when the abuse started, but instead, I peel off my clothes. He glances at me for a brief moment but finishes getting undressed. The water pours from the showerhead, and he steps in under the spray. I grab a washcloth and enter the shower with him.

He’s facing me, and all of a sudden, I’m nervous and heartbroken, but I swallow the emotions and start to wash him down.

He hisses now and then but closes his eyes. “I have sent men to find Amira and bring Ella here.”

I nod but remember he can’t see me. “Okay,” I say.

He glances down at me, and his large hand covers mine. He loosens the cloth from between my fingers and starts washing me. I allow it. I need some form of kindness now after all the violence. My parents never showed me any affection, and I lean into this moment with Diarmuid. My hands rise up, and I touch his broad shoulders, allowing them to run down his arms. This is why he never took his shirt off. He was hiding the brutality that was inflicted on him.

The water pours down his chest, the stream of blood turning from red to pink. He still needs stitches, but the cut isn’t as ugly as I thought it would be.

“Cormick trained you?” I ask as my hands trail down to his elbow before running along his forearms.

“Yes, as an assassin.”

My heart races, and I look into his steel eyes. I need to know.

“Did you kill a child?” I ask.

He tilts his head, the cloth he was using to wash me forgotten.

“No.”

I can’t help the relief that floods my body. “Was each death for the greater good?” I ask.

This time, his gaze shadows over. “No,” he answers honestly.

I nod.

“I just do as I’m instructed.” He sounds so tired.

He tilts my chin up so I’m looking at him. “But, I won’t for much longer. I’ll take you all somewhere safe.”

I want to ask him how he really thinks that will play out, but time will tell.

His lips brush mine, and they are warm and gentle as he kisses me, like he’s sealing our fates deeper together.

Stepping into the shower with Diarmuid was a choice. My one move in this game of kings and pawns...perhaps the only one worth making.

But mine, nonetheless.

My choice right now is to kiss him back, our mouths moving together assuredly with passion and conviction. I am no longer a pawn in this game.

I’m now a player.

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