Page 69 of Destroy Me
“Son, sit.”
He paced another lap around the island, just because he thought he’d be going crazy if he had to contain himself in a seat, but his mam wasn’t one to be ignored. He pulled the chair at her elbow out and sat, his elbows going to the table, his face landing in his palms. He was going to hyperventilate; he knew it. Nothing he could do about it. Nothing anyone would help him do. He’d argued with Lyse until Mack came back to the hotel room. Argued all the way home. When they’d arrived back at Mack’s, she’d walked calmly into their bedroom and began packing. That had been the final straw.
“I can’t take it, Mam. I can’t do this.”
A warm palm landed on his forearm, gripped the muscle there, holding on tight. “You’re capable of so much more than you know, Fionn. Always have been. We knew that when you were a child, and when you became a man, you proved it. Look at all you’ve been through. Do you really think you couldn’t do this and so much more?”
He fisted his hands, digging them hard into the sockets of his eyes. “I don’t want to,” he finally admitted. Though it wasn’t really about want;wantwas too simple a word. This was about begging for an alternative, desperately seeking anything to save the one person he had no power to save, not if she refused him. This was about the choking fear that something would happen to her because, where she was going, he couldn’t stand in front of her and take any bullet headed her way.
“You know,” his mam said, her voice washing over him like a warm blanket, “I wondered for a long time what I would’ve done had your father come to me, confessed. Would I forgive him? Turn him in? Help him make it right?” Her grip on his arm tightened. “Stay silent?”
When he glanced up, surprised, she chuckled. “I’m not a saint, Fionn. Of course I considered just running away, the three of us, not saying anything to anyone. Not that it was a practical option, considering, but one could dream. I loved him more than life; I’d have done anything to keep that dream.” Her smile held the same warmth as her hand, her voice, steadying him as his world turned to chaos. “All kinds of crazy things went through my mind, but in the end I wasn’t given that choice, was I? Your father made it for me, and Ferrina killed him.”
He covered her hand with one of his own. “I know.”
“You have a choice I never got to make. You could run away; you could turn your back on her. You could hide with her.” Turning her palm, she laid it on the table, waiting while Fionn settled his hand over it. “The question you need to ask, before any of that, is…why are you insisting on protecting her?”
He studied their hands. He already knew the answer to the question. There was no doubt in his mind whatsoever that he loved Lyse. But love meant being together, didn’t it? Having each other’s backs? Taking care of her? He couldn’t do any of those things if, instead, he did what she was asking of him. To help her turn herself in.
“I love her.”
“I know.” His mam shook her head, her smile wry. “I doubt she knows that, but I do. I look at you when your eyes are on her, and there’s no doubt in my mind. Your father would be proud of your choice, as am I.” She squeezed his hand. “But loving her doesn’t mean taking away her choices. We can’t make others do what we want; we all have free will. If we didn’t, I’d certainly turn back time and force your father to do what was right. That’s just not possible.
“We all make our own choices. Lyse has made hers, very courageously, I might add. Now help her do what she feels is right. Be there for her any way you can.”
“But—”
Siobhan laid a finger on his lips, silencing his protest. “If you love her, Fionn, don’t wait. Go tell her. Give her your strength. The road she’s about to walk won’t be easy, but it’s the one she’s chosen. She needs you beside her.”
“Fionn?”
Lyse’s voice burned through him like a swallow of whisky he hadn’t bothered to savor. He certainly hadn’t savored her near enough in the handful of days they’d been given. He closed his eyes, let himself feel the pain for no more than a moment, then manned up and stood. He knew what he had to do. “Thanks, Mam.”
Siobhan couldn’t hide the worry in her eyes, but then, she couldn’t hide the pride either. He let that bolster him as he turned to see Lyse standing in the doorway. She’d looked broken when she’d stepped out of the toilet earlier, face obviously tearstained, black circles under her eyes, fear written so clearly in the way she held her body, the white around her mouth. But she hadn’t backed down from her decision to return and face the consequences of her actions.
Staring at her now, standing in the doorway, his heart squeezed so hard he couldn’t catch his breath. She was so beautiful to him, so delicate, but inside that body was a core of strength he hadn’t recognized for far too long. She’d fight him if she had to, just as she had when he first tracked her down, but she didn’t want to. She wanted him to fight beside her.
And because he loved her more than life itself, he had no choice but to do as she asked.
He held out a hand. “Take a walk with me?”
She eyed his hand, raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t going to kidnap me, are you?”
He hadn’t thought he could laugh right now, but she always surprised him, didn’t she? “I’ve been after considering it,” he said, a grin curving his lips, “but no.”
“Okay.”
When she came close enough, her hand slid into his. He wrapped her fingers up just as he had his mam’s, holding on tight. Without looking back, he led her out the door.
He’d never much cared where he lived, either in the desert or the city or the woods or the rainforest. All had been part of his life, but he hadn’t realized until he came back to Ireland how much this land was a part of him, how calm his soul was when he walked the earth where he’d been born and raised. Maybe he hadn’t dared think on it, knowing Ireland was barred from him for life. But he let that calm take him now as they rounded the house together and started up the lane that led to Mack’s place, Lyse quiet beside him.
It wasn’t really a matter of not knowing what to say. He knew what was coming; he wasn’t afraid to admit how he felt. He stayed silent more because he needed to prepare himself for what came after. Losing Lyse was a helluva lot scarier than loving her.
At the end of the lane he stopped, turned to the woman beside him. His wan. Taking her face in his hands, he forced a deep, steadying breath into his lungs, then spoke the most important words of his life on the exhale. “I love you, Lyse.”
“You…what?”
Not the response he’d expected. Amusement lightened the fear in his heart, as it almost always did when he was with her. Leaning down, he brought them nose to nose. “I love you. Maybe I have for years; I don’t know. What I do know is that I don’t want to lose the most important thing in my life.”
