Page 125 of Filthy Savage

“Then again, I’m sure it was his fault you left. So maybe he deserved it.” Her amused appearance doesn’t make Fionn pleased, a pronounced scowl on his features.

“It’s always good to see you, sister. You’re such a delight.”

But I can’t seem to get past what she said.

“You looked for me?”

“For years,” she whispers.

He hits her with a glare. “May I talk now?”

She zips up her lips, fighting a grin.

“I looked all over,” he explains. “Searching and stalking every Emily Daniels I could find. Even tried with facial recognition. But I came up empty every time.”

My heart sinks. “I tried looking for you too. Not as efficiently as you, clearly.”

He sucks in a long breath, like he’s surprised by the revelation.

“Well, clearly he found you even after all this time.”

“Not exactly.” He drags in a frustrated breath, staring hard at me with a tilt of his brow.

A questioning expression appears on Iseult’s face. “Well, if anyone would like to provide the CliffsNotes version, I would very much love to hear about this reunion.”

“Me too.” The guy beside her with dark eyes and equally dark hair interrupts. “I’m Gio, by the way. Figured I’d introduce myself since it doesn’t seem like my lovely wife will do it for me.”

“Didn’t think it was important.” She fights her smile.

“Yeah, she’s really hilarious.” He wraps an arm around her, pulling her into his side while she tries to push him off, though it doesn’t seem like she’s trying very hard. “Welcome to the family. I’d say I’m sorry, but you probably already figured that out.”

“Ignore my son.” Fernanda rolls her eyes. “The Quinns are wonderful people, and I for one am so happy that you have returned.”

As I stand amongst them, I don’t feel fear. I feel welcomed and at home. That alone should terrify me, but it doesn’t.

A short, slender woman around my age who looks almost exactly like Fionn approaches next, and beside her is a much taller man, his eyes as blue as the sky.

“Hey, I’m Eriu. Fionn’s other sister. We’ve never met, but Iseult told me about you years ago.” She reaches a hand for mine. “It’s nice to officially meet you, and you!” She kneels to Fia. “I’m Auntie Eriu. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

My daughter shakes her hand with a giggle.

“And I’m Devlin, Eriu’s husband.” He nods in greeting. His thick Irish accent flanks his tone, just as heavy as Patrick’s.

“Hey, you talk funny too! I wanna talk funny!”

“That’s called an Irish accent, sweetheart,” I tell her.

“Can you buy it for me?”

Patrick laughs, others joining him. “Oh, she’s hilarious!”

Brody comes out of an adjoining room, a girl Fia’s age with bright green eyes and chestnut curls with him.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hi, Brody.”

The girl gives us sheepish glances, hiding behind her brother’s thigh.

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