“Don’t do that. He is.”
He pulls her against his chest into a hug, and she relaxes into his touch. She relaxes into his touch, and the jealousy alone keeps me alive for another moment.
“Is he?” I murmur, closing my eyes against the bright lights and loud sounds.
Caroline leans over me again. “Don’t fall asleep.”
“I’m not. Just closing my eyes.”
“To what, recharge your soul?”
“Exactly.”
“Open them,” she commands.
I do.
“I love you,” she says again.
I blink. “That’s twice now.”
“If you heard me, why didn’t you say it back?”
“I was bleeding out.”
“Say it back.”
“I’m still bleeding out.”
“Kellan Crowley.”
“Taim i ngrá leat freisin,” I whisper. “I always have.”
Her face breaks into something fragile and whole. She kisses my forehead again, then stays there, curled around me like armor.
The door swings open. A woman in scrubs and a black jacket rushes in with a trauma bag and gloves. Declan helps clear the way.
“Vitals?” she asks.
“Low,” Rian replies. “Very. Bullet wound, left side.”
“Hold him down,” she says. “We need to stabilize before we move him.”
Caroline stays with me, hand still in mine, pressing her cheek to mine as the medic works. I groan at the sting of saline and the fresh tape binding my side.
“You’re safe now,” she whispers. “You hear me? You’re safe.”
I believe her. I believe that her love alone could keep me safe.
41
CAROLINE
The hospital smellslike bleach and old grief. We finally got Kellan stable enough to bring him here, and now I wish we could just bring him home.
Home.It is home now. It’s technically safe. The monster under the bed has been defeated. Declan and Rian are dealing with Fionn Crowley’s body, doing God knows what to send the Valacchis a message. Cutting his hands off, his head? I shake the thought away.
Too many people have died here, at this mafia hospital, for it not to cling to the walls. It lingers in the tile grout, seeps into the curtains, settles deep into the corners where nobody cleans well enough. It coats my tongue, thick and bitter, like something I’ll never swallow down.