I stare at the screen, dread already crawling up my spine. Is Lily okay? Did something happen? Did someone show up? Why won’t anyone just say what’s going on before yanking me into another fire?
First Burns sends a cryptic message and drags me out into this champagne circus. Now Ana’s doing it too. No one calls. No one explains. It’s just?—
Come. Now. Hurry.
And of course I will. Of course, I’m already moving.
But the not knowing?
That’s the part that’s going to kill me.
12
LIAM
Lily’s still fussing when we get to the loft—not quite wailing anymore, but it’s still that tired, overwhelmed cry that cuts right through you. Annika paces the length of the room like she’s on autopilot, murmuring soft little shushes, arms wrapped tightly around Lily like she can calm her down through sheer force of will.
“She’s probably just overtired,” she mutters. Her voice is raw. “Or overstimulated. I don’t even know anymore.”
“Here,” I say, stepping in. “Let me take her for a bit.”
She nods, slow and tired, and leans in to kiss the top of Lily’s head. I hear her whisper something—too soft to make out—then she turns away, dragging herself to the bed like her body’s run out of steam. The mattress creaks as she sinks onto it, curling up on her side, eyes still on us.
I settle into the rocking chair with Lily cradled against me. She’s quieter now—still sniffling, still a little wound up—but the worst of it seems to be passing. Her tiny fingers bunch up in the fabric of my shirt like she’s anchoring herself to me. Like she doesn’t want to let go.
“I’ve got you,a stór,” I whisper, rocking us gently. “It’s okay now. You’re safe.”
She starts to settle, breaths coming slower. But mine don’t. Not even close.
The guilt’s crawling up my throat. I never should’ve let Annika leave without me. I knew Mac could be a problem, that he had a way of pushing boundaries. I just didn’t think he’d push those.
And that’s on me.
Goddamn it.
I shift Lily a little higher, letting her cheek rest against my shoulder. Her breaths start to even out. Meanwhile, mine do the opposite.
What if I’d been here? What if I hadn’t run to Burns when summoned like some common fucking lackey?
I should’ve been here. Protecting them.
Mac.
The name pulses like a bruise behind my eyes.
I reach for my phone, careful not to jostle Lily. My thumbs fly across the screen.
Mac crossed a line with Ana tonight. Got handsy. She handled it, but it was close.
Take care of it. Quietly.
I hesitate, then add,Don’t tell Rory or Kellan yet. I’ll handle that part.
I tuck the phone away and breathe in slowly through my nose, just as Lily sighs against my chest. It’s a tiny, peaceful sound that feels like forgiveness I don’t deserve, but I hold her close anyway.
Lily shifts again, and I gently rock the chair, watching her eyelids finally flutter shut. The loft is still now. Quiet, except for the soft hum of the white noise machine and the slow rise and fall of her tiny breaths.
My whole body aches. From the tension, the anger, the guilt—hell, even just from standing too long in the wrong shoes last night. The emotional whiplash of the past few hours has left me strung out, frayed at the edges. I don't think I’ve felt this worn thin since… I don’t even know. Maybe never.