Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
I gnawed on my lower lip, taking this in.
“If ever things get fucked—and I mean your parents are dead, your brothers, Tierney, Fintan, me—you come here. There’s a loose brick at the back of the house, smeared in tar. There’s a phone number on a note under it. You call it three times and hang up. They’ll take you out of the country. Understand?”
Why was he telling me this now? What was he preparing for? And why did I have a feeling today wasn’t just about the shooting range, but also about familiarizing me with this place in case things went south?
“Tell me you understand, Lila.” He squeezed my hand after a moment.
“Yes,” I said thickly.
We stopped at the backyard of the house, which was outlined by a split-rail fence.
Tiernan stalked into a nearby shed and took out a clay-shooting machine. We got to work.
Unsurprisingly, I was just as bad at hitting moving targets as I was still ones. Worse, actually.
When we were done practicing for the day, he put his hand on my shoulder, peering into my eyes.
“We’ll practice some more, but in the meantime, I want you to remember a very important rule, Gealach. When the target is moving, you wait for a clear shot. Promise me you won’t lose your only chance at survival by panic-shooting.”
“I won’t panic-shoot. I promise.”
“That’s my girl.” He ducked his head down to kiss me, his hand on my waist, the other cradling the back of my neck. “Now let’s christen this field. It’s been four hours since I’ve been inside you.”
His fingers were in my hair, and my mouth was on his, and my nails sank into his skin, and his touch was everywhere, all at once—everywhere but my belly, of course. Never my belly.
We went tumbling down the damp overgrown weeds.
Angrily, I bit down on his lower lip, drawing blood, sucking it, and groaning my frustration into his mouth. All he did was laugh, kissing me harder.
“My little demoness,” he murmured, licking his own blood from the outline of my lips.
As he unbuttoned my clothes quickly, quickly, quickly, like the world was ending, I realized he unleashed something carnal in me.
Something nothing, and no one, could ever cage and lock back up.
And even though I was in an arranged marriage, I felt…
Free.
_______
When Tiernan stopped in front of Fermanagh’s, he didn’t park the car.
“I’m meeting your brothers and Sam in Harlem.” He kept his shades on.
“Is this about the Russians?”
The answer was in his silence.
My heart sank. I didn’t want him to go to Vegas. I didn’t want him to risk his life for this stupid…nothing.
“Why? Igor did terrible things to you, but Alex was nothing but a true friend,” I pointed out.
“Alex must retaliate. He’s the new pakhan. Plus, I betrayed him. I’d rather kill him than die.”
“When will you go to Vegas?”
“This week.”
“This week?” My heart dropped to the pit of my stomach. “When were you going to tell me?”
“As soon as I had a concrete date.” He turned his attention to his phone in the central console. Flipped it screen-up to check his messages.
“I don’t want you to die,” I blurted out.
I was afraid. It was okay to be afraid. It was not okay to be a coward.
And a coward wouldn’t have admitted her feelings.
This seemed to grab my husband’s attention. He put his phone down and placed his thumb on my jaw, his fingers wrapped around the nape of my neck.
“They call me Deathless for a reason.”
“Koshchei, right?” I remembered. Of course I remembered. I remembered everything about him. “That’s the name Igor gave you.”
“Yes.”
“I read the tale,” I signed dejectedly. “The God of Death gets impaled through the chest in the end.” Tears clung to my lower lashes. “He dies an agonizing, violent death. And he dies a villain.”
“I am a villain,” Tiernan said, not an ounce of regret in him. “I am selfish. Soulless. Perverse. A few soft kisses and hard fucks did not change that. Nothing can, sweetheart.”
The words were a bucket of ice thrown over the past few weeks. How foolish I’d been to think he developed feelings for me just because I developed feelings for him. Mama was right. I opened my legs and lost my mind to this man. Just like she’d expected.
I swallowed hard. “I can’t change your mind, can I?”
He shook his head gravely.
“Well, then.” I opened the door, hopping out. “Have fun planning your own funeral, Tiernan.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
LILA
I couldn’t see straight as I walked the distance from the car to our building, Irish soldiers engulfing me from all sides.
I wasn’t ready to face Imma in the apartment, so I slipped into Fermanagh’s instead. The place was packed as always. Drunken old men and sex workers aplenty. It could be argued that a man of Tiernan’s means who truly cared about his pregnant wife wouldn’t want her to live in a place like this. Now that he had ripped the rose-colored glasses from my eyes, I could finally admit this to myself.