Page 6 of Crimson Tears

“What the feck was that?” I ask, slamming the door behind me as we walk towards our awaiting plane.

“What?” He feigns bashfulness, but I march right up to him and punch him in the shoulder, more mad than I have any right to be at the moment.

“That is your boss. Treat her like it.”

Cillian shrugs as he opens the trunk and grabs my bag.

“Nah, it’s more fun to mess with her.”

My mouth hangs open as I try to snatch my rifle from him, I’m very particular about who touches my things. Yet, he carefully maneuvers out of my way before walking up the stairs to the private jet.

Once we get inside, he places my bag in the coat closet, right where I normally keep it.

I tilt my head as he heads to the back and kicks off his shoes before undoing his belt and tossing them in the other closet. This is Boris’ plane, no one but me and a few select people have ever been on it before. Yet, Cillian knows exactly where everything is.

“Grab me a blanket?” I ask, testing my theory.

As if on autopilot, he leans over and opens the bench seat, grabbing my favorite red blanket in favor of the dark gray one and hands it to me. His hand freezes as I accept it with a smirk on my face.

“How long have you known I was alive?” I ask, watching his face go pale.

He lets out a scoff while unbuttoning his pants and sitting across from me, then reclines the chair and tilts his head back.

“I thought you were dead for almost a year now.”

“How do you know this plane, Cillian?”

He's silent for a minute. “I got the news you were dead and panicked.” Stretching his legs, he lets out a yawn. “I knew you were with the old man, so I looked through all of his houses and assets to see if you were hiding out in any of them.”

I spread the blanket over me, reclining my own chair as the cabin doors are sealed.

“Why?” If he knew I was with Boris, why would he care? How did he even know?

“I needed to know.” It’s quiet, like he didn’t really want to give me the answer.

I think back to the time after the building collapsed. The weeks I spent recovering in the hospital. Then I think about all of the moments after that. When Boris and I fell in love and how we had to fight for what we had.

I think about those nights when I woke up screaming, stuck in that burning building in my mind. All of the times Boris raced to my side before deciding one night he wasn’t going to leave.

Boris has been my person, my rock, for so long that I forgot what it was like to be afraid. He's made me feel like the woman I always wanted to be. But during all of that, Cillian had been there in the shadows, looking for me.

“I was in the tower with him, hiding from my father,” I admit quietly.

“That was the one place I couldn’t bring myself to look.” Cillian sits up, eyeing me as my brows furrow in confusion.

“If I found you there, hiding away with him…” he trails off, a blank, distant look in his eyes before he snaps back and continues.

“I don’t think my heart could have taken it.” I suck in a breath as he stands, crowding my face. “You have always been it for me, A stór.”

I shake my head. I used to love that name, cherished it deep in my heart, even as the world around me turned dark and ugly. But the truth is, I’m no one's treasure. I don’t want to be the thing locked away in a box and fought over.

“I’m not a treasure, Killer. Don’t put me on a pedestal. I fight with the best of them now.”

He leans into me, our noses almost touching as he closes his eyes and inhales.

“Alright, Sweetheart. I believe you.”

Abruptly, he stands and goes back to his chair, getting comfortable once again as the plane begins to take off. I have a question I’ve been itching to ask since the second I saw him, and now that I feel the shift between us, maybe it’s the right time.

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