Page 12 of Sweet Revenge
Father Michael opened a big book that Father Charles passed across the table with shaking hands, pages whispering as he flipped through them. Evie hadn’t attended a funeral since her grandfather died when she was fifteen, so she let Nessa take the lead when it came to choosing the prayers, the music, the benediction.
There was an endless litany of choices that had to be made. Everything from choosing the flowers to the caskets to the pallbearers. And Evie didn’t know the right ones for any of it. When McGee asked them to bring outfits their parents could be buried in and photos they could frame for the service, Evie shivered. The thought of going back into that house made her nauseous.
“I have to get out of here,” Evie said once the priests and McGee disappeared with their notes.
She shoved away from the table and pushed out into the fresh air, leaning back against the side of the building and closing her eyes, tilting her face up to the sun.
“Thank you,” Evie said when she sensed Nessa step up beside her.
“For what?”
Evie looked at her sister. They had the same eyes. “For making all the decisions in there. I didn’t…I couldn’t…”
Nessa laid a hand on Evie’s arm but dropped it quickly. “It’s okay. Do you want to come with me to the house? To pick out their clothes and things?”
She wanted to say no, to tell her sister to pick out whatever she thought was best, but she couldn’t be that heartless. She was no coward. “Yeah, I’ll go with you. Tomorrow?”
Nessa smiled sadly. “Tomorrow. You can get my number from Declan,” she added when he joined them.
Evie dropped her head back and stared up at the clouds. She could feel him staring at her, and it warmed her in a way the sun could never. She couldn’t get out of this city fast enough.
“She’s married?”
“She was.”
She met his gaze then, brows knitting together. “She’s got a wedding ring on.”
Declan nodded, checking his phone when it signaled and then slipping it back into his pocket. “She was widowed two years ago.”
“That’s sad.” She blew out a breath. “Did they have kids?”
“No.”
She looked over at the unexpected softness in his tone. For the first time, she wondered if he had kids, if he’d gotten married after she left. She didn’t remember seeing a wedding ring, but she hadn’t been looking for one. That possibility stung more than she wanted it to.
Shoving away from the wall, she slid sunglasses onto her face and dug out her car keys. “She wants me to go to the house with her tomorrow to choose their clothes and whatever.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
He really needed to stop throwing her off balance like that. “No, but thank you. Do you have her number?”
He pulled out his phone and keyed up Nessa’s contact information, passing it to Evie so she could copy it down. “Here, take mine too.” He tapped the screen and brought up his own number.
“Declan,” she said when he turned to go. There were so many things she wanted to say to him but couldn’t. “Thank you. For last night, for this.” She gestured to the building behind her. “I know they would be grateful. I’m grateful.”
“It’s no more than I would do for any of my men.”
This time when he turned to go, she didn’t stop him, but the unexpected sting of his words served as a reminder that though they had meant something to each other once, they didn’t anymore. And it was better that way.
ChapterSeven
Declan watched Evie stare after him in his rearview until he turned the corner and she disappeared from view. Tossing his phone on the seat beside him, he headed back to Glenmore House to meet his brother for a full debrief.
He tried to go over the details in his mind of the op they’d run on DiMarco from the quick rundown he’d gotten from Finn last night, but his thoughts kept drifting to Evie.
He didn’t recognize the woman she’d become. This cool, calculated woman who carefully measured her words and didn’t wear her heart on her sleeve. But he could catch glimpses of the girl he’d known underneath, the one he’d loved since before he even really knew what love was.
Her hair was the same wild tumble of curls he’d loved to bury his fingers in, loved to feel splayed out over his chest. Her eyes were the same hazel flecked with gold, and they were still quick to flash with anger. She still tilted her head to one side when she was annoyed and chewed her bottom lip when she was upset. And she still looked damned good wearing one of his shirts and nothing else.
