Page 102 of Stolen Rival
Something about how he says those words burrows its way into my chest. Before I can reply, he falls back to sleep.
Chapter 48
PATRICK
If there’sone thing I despise above all else, it’s being helpless. The shoulder injury is manageable, even if it does hurt like a motherfucker, made worse probably by me refusing to wear a fucking sling. But the gunshot wound to my thigh and the sheer volume of blood loss has left me weaker than a dying breath.
Andrew almost made sure it fucking was my dying breath. According to Cillian, I was whisper-close to finding out if God exists, or if my deeds on earth would send me straight to hell.
If it weren’t for Cillian’s and Molly’s expert surgical skills and my brother stepping in as a blood donor, that’d be it.
What I wouldn’t give to kill that bastard all over again. If things had gone down differently, I’d have taken him alive and enjoyed every second torturing him until he begged me to end it. But regrets are pointless. At least now I know he can never hurt Sorcha again.
There will be others, though. It’s the nature of the beast, which is why I’ve commissioned the building of panic roomson all three floors of the house. I might not be able to get out of bed without help, but I can use a fucking phone.
I’ve also commissioned something else. A surprise for Sorcha that I know she will love. After everything I’ve done, and all she has suffered, it’s a small token, but one that I hope she sees as the beginnings of an apology I will spend my life making.
Speaking of, here she comes, carrying a steaming bowl of soup and a stack of sourdough bread on a four-legged tray and wearing a determined expression that I’ve come to realize stands forshe means business.
“Before you open your mouth, no arguments.”
See what I mean?
She places the tray above my knees and reaches behind to plump up my pillows.
“For God’s sake, woman, give it a rest.”
Leaning back, she pierces me with her no-nonsense stare. “What did I just say? You almostdied, Patrick. Stop being a stubborn shite and accept that until you’re back on your feet and 100 percent better, this is your fate. It’ll go easier on you if you accept it rather than being McGrouchy.”
I can’t help the curve to my lips, although when she meets my gaze, I glower at her.
“And that look doesn’t scare me either, so quit it and eat your soup, or so help me God, I will feed every spoonful to you myself, and we all know how much you like that.”
“Once was enough. I’d prefer to keep my fucking balls, thank you very much.” I pick up the spoon and dive in. It’s another Maeve special, and I can’t help a groan of pleasure from slipping out. “And don’t give me that look, or I’ll put you across my knee and give you a spanking you won’t forget.”
Once, a comment like that would’vescared her. It’s evidence of how far we’ve come when she throws back her head and laughs, then gives a full, albeit fake, body shudder. “Ooh, promises, promises.”
I roll my eyes, then scarf down the entire bowl and devour the plate of bread. Sorcha sits on the edge of the bed in silence, watching me like a hawk. I pretend not to like the attention, but underneath it all, I’m reveling in it.
“Finished?”
“Yes. Tell Maeve I said thank you.” I capture her hand as she goes to pick up the tray. “And thank you, too.”
“What for?”
“For putting up with my moods.”
She lifts the tray off the bed and places it on the bedside table, then sits on the bed once more. “You’re a proud man whose job it is to always show strength, even when you’ve been shot. Twice. But you don’t have to play that part in front of me.”
A sigh lifts her chest. “We had a horrible start, but I do understand why you did what you did. Da might’ve kept the more brutal parts of his business from me, but I’m not stupid. I know how this works. He gave the order to murder the O’Sullivans, maybe even the Mahoneys too. Yet they only did half the job by not taking you all out. He left you no option but to retaliate, which he should have anticipated and got us all to safety.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered. I’d have found you anyway.”
“Maybe.” She hitches a shoulder. “But it would have shown he put us first. I loved my family with all my heart, but Da was not a saint, neither were my brothers.”
“No one in this business is a saint, especially me.”
“Why are you defending them?”
