Page 48 of Deceive Me
He was pretty certain, though, that either way, both of them would not be left standing when it was over.
19
He followed King into the library. No way were they getting all of Fionn’s 220-pound frame up the stairs, not without jarring him unnecessarily. “Try and keep him steady. I don’t want to aggravate the head wound.”
Sydney kept her head tucked beneath his chin, her breath too fast against his bare skin, her tiny nails digging into his arm and shoulder. He hadn’t realized how much he’d carried alone until someone—or more than one someone—had stepped into his life and lifted some of that load. Now the safety net of sharing his burdens had been ripped away, and his loyalties were torn: care for Fionn, keep Sydney safe. Deal with the traitor in their midst.
But no, he’d already done that. He’d thrown Elliot out. By the time his two charges were settled and safe, she’d be gone from his life. He’d never see her again.
He refused to think the hollow ache in his stomach was anything but a reaction to her betrayal.
Behind him he could hear Saint on the phone, presumably with the doctor. As Deacon murmured softly to Sydney, King knelt next to the couch, his lean muscles barely straining under his burden’s weight, and rolled Fionn onto it, then arranged the man’s head and limbs in a more comfortable position. Fionn didn’t stir.
The rumble of Saint’s voice faded. When Deacon turned, it was to see him exiting the library, phone still to his ear. Dain entered behind him.
“Why are you still here?”
The look Dain gave him was tired. “If you want me gone, call Jack. Until then, I’ll be doing my job. You need backup.”
“I need backup I can trust,” Deacon countered.
“And this afternoon, Jack can have a fresh team out here—if that’s still what you want. In the meantime…”
Dain’s shrug sent the need to attack vibrating through Deacon’s muscles. “This isn’t—”
Sydney raised her head at his angry tone. “Daddy?” She glanced around, her gaze coming to rest on Fionn’s prone form, and the color in her face paled. “Daddy, what’s wrong with Fionn?”
Forcing himself to breathe, to temper his tone for his child’s sake, Deacon turned his back on Dain. When he’d settled in the deep armchair near the foot of the couch, Sydney cuddled in his lap, he said, “Fionn got a bump on the head. He’s gonna be fine, I promise.”
“I’m scared.”
Instinctively his body began a gentle rocking, the same rhythm he’d used when she was a baby and he’d held her in the rocking chair that now sat in her room. Soothing her. Soothing them both. “I know, Little Bit. It’s scary when someone we love gets hurt, but it’s gonna be okay.”
“Is Fionn gonna die like Mommy?”
Deacon glanced up, his gaze connecting with Dain’s. The man ran a hand over his face, his eyes.
“Listen to me, baby.” Deacon wrapped his arms even tighter around his daughter, using the warmth of his big body to cocoon her. “Fionn is not going anywhere. He’s hurt, but not like that. People get hurt sometimes, but that doesn’t mean they have to die.”
Wide green eyes stared up at him, faith and doubt mixing with tears. “I don’t want Fionn to die.”
“Me neither. He won’t; I promise you, Syd.”
“Where’s Elliot?”
“She…” Shit. He couldn’t believe he’d let his daughter get so attached to a traitor.
Dain broke in before Deacon could choke down the emotions closing off his air. “She had to go do some things, Sydney.”
Saint reentered, a slightly built Indian man trailing him. From the stethoscope already around his neck, Deacon assumed this was the doctor. He rose to meet them.
“Deacon, this is Dr. Karak.”
The man zeroed in on Fionn even as he reached a hand out to Deacon. “Nice to meet you.” They’d barely shook before he turned away. “Move, King.”
King grinned as the doc shoved him aside. “Nice to see you too, Roger.”
The doctor humphed. Despite the razzing, the room went tense while he completed his exam.
