Page 86 of Rebellion

That bastard had. He’d harmed her.

“I’m going to do more than fucking kill him,” he said, standing. “I’m going to fucking rip him limb from limb. Why the hell didn’t your cousin take care of you better? Why did he let that bastard near you? And why the fuck is he still breathing?”

Not that he would be for long. Colm would see to that. He didn’t deserve to be breathing the same air as his girl.

“I . . . I . . . he didn’t . . .”

He shot her a look and she stopped trying to deny what they both knew to be true.

“I’m holding on by a thread here, lass,” he warned her. “And you lying to me will tip me over the edge. He hurt you. If you can’t tell me what he did, then at least do not deny that he did it.”

When she didn’t say anything, he knew that was as much of an admission as he was going to get.

At least for right now.

Eventually, she would tell him everything. But he understood that she couldn’t right now.

“I don’t... I don’t want you to have blood on your hands because of me,” she suddenly said, tears filling her eyes.

“Oh, baby. This isn’t on you. He signed his death warrant the moment he touched you. I just wish I’d known earlier.”

He had to go to Oleg now. To teach him a lesson . . . to . . .

Fuck.

Colm took in the fear and pain on his girl’s face and knew he wouldn’t be leaving her just yet. He couldn’t.

Reaching down, he cupped her chin. Then he forced himself to sit and grab his T-shirt, which had dropped on the floor.

“You’re not . . . you’re not going now?”

“He’ll keep,” he said gruffly. “Right now, you need me more.”

A small sob escaped her and he knew that he’d made the right choice.

“It’s all right, baby. I’m here. I’m here.” He wished he could hold her tight, draw her onto his lap, and keep her there forever.

But her comfort was his priority and he didn’t want to cause her pain.

He cupped her face with his hands and gently wiped away the tears dripping down her cheeks.

“It’s all right, lass. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

He longed to question her further about Oleg. About why she would be with such an ass-pig. But he could also see that she was dead on her feet.

What she needed more than anything was sleep.

“I’m going to put this T-shirt on you, all right? Are the painkillers helping?”

She nodded as he drew the T-shirt over her head and she slowly put her arms through while holding the blanket up to cover herself.

He narrowed his gaze at her. “Are they really helping, Squirt, or are you lying to me?”

She winced and he wondered why. “What is it?”

“I, uh, you called me Squirt. I always feel like I’m your... your kid sister or something when you call me that.”

Ahh.

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