Page 57 of Caught in the Crossfire
I’d wanted to kiss that mouth.
I still did, but there was no way he’d want me now. He was taking care of me to keep me alive, but I’d put our entire family through hell the last few days. Now that Leona was safe, now that we were both home, their anger and resentment would turn toward me.
And I deserved it.
Willow placed the back of her hand on my forehead. “Your temperature has remained low. You’re stable. If you would stay put, you should have no problems healing.”
“I can’t stay here when those men are?—”
“Yes, you can, and I will not hear another word about it.” Willow pinched the bridge of her nose. “I need to know that if I go back to Philadelphia and the Irish, you won’t push yourself right back to the edge of death.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, but a slice of panic did flash through my chest at the thought of her leaving. “I won’t.”
“Ciel will make sure of it, won’t you, darling?” She smiled at him, and he met her eyes with a shy smile of his own. I frowned. Willow calling himdarlingunsettled something in my chest. Maybe it was time for her to go.
“Of course,” he murmured.
“Excellent.” She collapsed into her chair beside my bed. “Now, I will take the next watch. Ciel can go eat some food and checkon the others.” Ciel hesitated, but Willow nodded toward the door. “Thank you, Ciel.”
He pursed his lips, but the dismissal was clear. I frowned again, irritated at her tone and attitude.
He cast a shy glance at Willow before he pressed a quick kiss to my brow. My heart leapt to my throat while my cheeks burned as he made a hasty exit.
Once I had control over my racing heartbeat, I turned to my sister. “What was that about?”
“He is very sweet.”
“I know,” I huffed. He and Leona were the sweetest people I’d ever met. “And you were rude.”
“I wasn’t rude. I was firm, because you and I need to talk. Preferably alone.” She leaned back in her chair. “I’m heading home in a few hours. Zoya has a patient she needs help with, and I can’t leave my clinic alone anymore. If I thought you were in any danger, I would stay.”
I stared at my hands in my lap. It was time for her to go home. She’d stayed with me long enough, and I was completely fine now. I would be back in the field in no time.
“I understand,” I replied. “You saved my life, Willow. Thank you.”
She grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Like always, we save each other. But there is one more thing I’m worried about. A threat to your recovery.”
I nodded. I was already on a slew of pills to ward off infection. She probably just wanted to add another prescription. “Which is?”
“Youare the biggest remaining danger to your health.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I scoffed.
She regarded me cooly, tilting her head to the side. She had always done that ever since we were kids. It was like she had a telescope right into my brain and could see whenever I washiding something, and she used to stare at me until I finally gave in and told her what was wrong.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she finally asked. “What this is doing to you? Emotionally.”
I shook my head. She might have been able to read me like a book when we were small, but whatever she thought she saw now didn’t exist. I was getting better, and as soon as I’d fixed this, everything would go back to the way it was before.
“I don’t need to talk about it. I need to fix this so Leona doesn’t have to live in fear. So my brothers can forgive me and trust me again.”
“Wynn,” she said softly. “I know you’ve been trying to make up for what happened when we escaped that house. What we experienced there, what you had to do to get us out — none of it was your fault. But one day, you’re going to have to forgive yourself for whatever you believe you did wrong.”
The man I killed when we escaped our traffickers was the very first man I’d killed. And then I’d killed another. And then another. And then the Irish taught me to kill for money and purpose—and I’d killed countless since then.
Every death laid at my feet originated from the moment I killed our captors. I knew murder was wrong, but I did it anyway. Over and over.
“Mum and Dad taught us to be good people,” I whispered, staring at my hands. “I don’t regret getting us out of that hellhole, but I’ve not been a good person since.”
