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“I love you too.”

She clung to my hand like it was her lifeline. “Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t leave you.”

Unfortunately, I couldn’t keep my promise. They whisked Eden away to run tests, and I was told Connor had been taken into surgery to repair his fractured jaw with titanium plates and screws. I was left behind to fill out paperwork for Connor and Eden. After I filled it out, including Eden’s insurance information I’d stored in my phone, I was relegated to the waiting area. It smelled like BO and chemical air freshener. Two guys sitting across from me were stuffing their faces with McDonald’s. The smell made me nauseous on a good day. Tonight, I wanted to wrestle the bag out of their hands and throw it out the door. I moved to the farthest corner of the room and leaned against the wall. I called Louis and then Ava. I told them the same story. There’d been a break-in. Connor and Eden were being treated now but they would be okay. I said it because it was what I needed to believe.

“I’m calling an Uber,” Ava said, her voice shaky, on the verge of tears. I hadn’t even given her the details yet. I’d wait until I saw her in person to try to prepare her for the shock of seeing Connor. “See you soon.”

I stared at the phone in my hand, knowing I needed to make another call, but I dreaded it. I closed my eyes as the phone rang. Once. Twice. And then his voice in my ear. “Killian.”

“Hello, sir. It’s…Eden.” I swallowed hard. “She’s going to be fine,” I said quickly, to set his mind at ease.

Please, God, don’t turn me into a liar.

“What happened?” Jack Madley asked.

“There was a break-in at my house. Eden was there with my brother, Connor. I was at work.”

“A break-in?”

“I don’t know the whole story yet. We just got to the hospital.”

“Tell me what you do know.”

I told him what I knew, keeping my voice low so nobody else in the ER waiting room could overhear. As I said the words, I felt like I was talking about someone else, not me. I’d killed a man. Five men were dead, one of which was the man who had raised me. Jack listened without interrupting. “I’m on my way,” he said when I finished my story. “Text me the address of the hospital. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Okay.”

“And Killian?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry about your father.”

“Thank you.”

“But as a father, it’s my duty to protect my daughter.”

“I understand.” I’d promised to keep her safe, but I’d failed. All I’d ever wanted was to keep her safe, but it turned out I was the biggest danger. If she’d never gotten involved with me, she wouldn’t be in the hospital.

“Good. We’ll talk about this later.”

He cut the call. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. “I need to get your statement.” I opened my eyes and looked at Deacon Ramsey. You’d never know he’d just been involved in a shoot-out. Ramsey looked cool, confident, and unruffled. Even his dirty-blond hair looked like he’d just styled it for a night out. We’d gone to high school together. Back then, he had been more into partying and breaking the law than enforcing it. Seeing him in NYPD blues still took me by surprise. “You look like you could use a coffee.”

“I could use something a hell of a lot stronger than coffee,” I said

He grinned. “Left my hip flask at home.”

We walked to the vending machines in the hallway, and he fed money into the slot. I watched the cup drop and fill up with ‘gourmet coffee’ according to the machine. He handed me the cup and got one for himself.

“Getting shot hurts like hell,” he said, eying my ripped-up T-shirt as he took a sip of coffee.

Like getting hit in the chest with a hammer. “I’ve had worse.”

“I bet you have. Shame about your old man,” he said, not sounding sorry.

I side-eyed him. To hear most of the cops talk, you’d think my father walked on water.