Page 29 of Forbidden Bond

Was she defending him?

“You defending him?”

Her chin hitched to the side. “No, I just can’t even… though I guess I ‘couldn’t even’ before and it turned out he was a murderer.” She shook her head. “But, no, I’ve been with him for days, I haven’t seen him take anything.”

“Only takes a second, kid. Addicts sniff it out anywhere.” Hmm. “Doesn’t have to be drugs, some guys get addicted to horses, pussy, cock fighting—”

“My father was never much of an animal lover.”

Okay, maybe she was getting her sass back. Except the knife still twisted in her gut. Every second without him tore at her heart. Soon there’d be nothing left of it.

“Scamp?”

How long had she been sitting there staring at nothing?

“I was addicted, am addicted,” she whispered without moving. “I won’t survive if I have to exist without him.”

“Don’t give up hope yet.”

“It’s not about hope, it’s about…” Her eyes closed, trying to blind her regret. “I wasted so much time. I don’t deserve him.”

“You do.”

“His whole life, he’s lived this. He told me he came to terms with how his life would end. That the only fear he’d ever experienced was after the attack.” Opening her eyes to his glancing her way, what she needed was more than anyone could give. “Me. I was the only fear in his life.”

“I don’t doubt he loves you, kid.”

“He’s this… So strong, such a beacon to power and determination. The McDades look to him, give him loyalty. Others fear him. He’s more than a man, more than just a person.”

“He’s an emblem. A symbol.”

“Yeah.”

When she didn’t continue, he stole another look at her. “And…?”

“Every room he walked into, he was the most powerful. Invincible… Nothing could take him down. Nothing… Until me.”

“Scamp, you don’t—”

“If he didn’t survive this, if he’s hurt or in pain, that’s on me.”

“That’s on the one holding the gun, your father.”

“Conn wasn’t supposed to be there,” she admitted, feeling the full force of guilt. “My father asked me to come alone.”

“Ire would never have let—”

“He gave me the choice… I asked him to come. I asked him to be there and… The notorious Ire McDade survived the streets and the family, the in-fighting, the external threats, and he was there, taken down by a McLeod. Because another McLeod killed him. It didn’t matter who he was to anyone else, or what he was in the world. In that minute, walking into that room, taking that bullet, he wasn’t a mob boss or a symbol on the streets, he was my boyfriend. The man who loved me.”

“What’s so wrong with that?”

“Love shouldn’t kill.”

“Love always kills,” Strat said. “Sometimes with a bullet, sometimes with a thousand needles. Sometimes it wears you down, sometimes it lifts you up.”

“But—”

“People murder others for money, greed, hatred, the list goes on and on, all of it is love. Whether it’s someone loving something more than the person they’re taking down, or they love themselves too much. Love is the motivation for everything.”

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