Page 64 of Forbidden Romeo

“Why is he protecting you?”

She’s watching me so closely; I can imagine she can see how my pupils dilate and contract.

“I don’t know.”

She makes a thoughtful noise. “You’re an excellent liar, I’ll give you that much. But Jack always has his reasons, and I suspect you know them.”

Do I really, though? He told me he cared about me, but it was in the heat of an argument, and he’s done nothing but lie to me since the moment I met him.

I simply shrug. “Maybe he just wants to take me to Padraic himself.”

“No, he would have done that already. Why go to all the trouble of hiding you and asking me to help?” Her mouth quirks thoughtfully. “Did you sleep with him?”

I don’t respond.

I watch as Kate’s eyes go wide in disbelief before regaining her composure. “Yikes, this really is a mess.”

For some reason, I feel the need to defend myself to this woman. “I didn’t know who he was.”

Kate’s face breaks into another gorgeous smile as she nods. “Sounds like you’ve had a rough day.”

We both bask in the truth of that statement. Jesus, this morning I was worrying about normal things like Roisin and when I’d be allowed to go back to work. Now I’m worrying about mylife.Kate, at least, seems to understand some of this. Whatever the reason, she’s here.

“St. Michael…” I say after a moment. “You’re not a Duffy?”

“Aunty Eliza was married to Padraic, I’m afraid,” Kate confesses, throwing her hands up in defense.

I let out a humorless laugh. “So you hate me too?”

She sits back and thinks about that for a moment. “I hate your brother. I hate your family for what they’ve done to ours for generations, as I suspect you hate mine. But you? I don’t know you. I can hate that I don’t know you or that I barely remembered you existed until fairly recently. But the rest remains to be seen.”

I nod at this. It seems we have a very similar understanding.

“What about you?” Kate asks in return.

“I put that part of my life behind me a long time ago,” I reply.

Kate nods toward my hand. “Yet, you’re the one still holding the knife.”

I glance down at the weapon in my hand and adjust my grip. “Old habits. Padraic killed my mother.”

“Connor killed my cousin,” Kate counters. “Both acts, I daresay, were done without either of our consent.”

The most annoying thing about Kate, I realize, is that she’s right.

Padraic killed my mother eleven years ago with a car bomb intended for my father. How old must Kate have been then? Barely a teenager. She had no part in it, as I had none in Connor’s murder of the Duffy heir. The only difference that matters now is that her grief probably still keeps her up at night, whereas I haven’t dreamed of my mother in years.

“Yet here we are,” I say with a hint of irony. But I adjust my tone to something much more sincere when I say. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

She waves me off flippantly, but I catch a brief moment of sadness in her eyes. “Are you going to drop the knife now?”

“No.”

She furrows her brow. “Seriously?”

“I need it to stab Jack when he gets back.”

Kate barks a laugh. “By all means. You’re not the only one he’s been keeping in the dark.”

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