Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
I clenched my jaw and tightened my grip on the wheel.
Maybe he had a point, but he didn’t get it. It was my responsibility to make sure Finn and his family were safe. I couldn’t afford any mistakes, much less any based on old age.
We’d lost enough, dammit.
“I’m sorry I called your looks bitchy, sir,” I said coolly. “I’ll make sure to thank Phil for taking care of my grandfather’s business two hundred years ago before we can him and give Whitman to his eldest.”
Shan opened his mouth to respond, then promptly closed it and shook his head.
As soon as I got home, I shut off the alarm and threw my keys on the hallway table, then aimed straight for my bedroom.
“Kellan.”
Aw, man.
I made a face before I turned around to face Shan. “What,” I said flatly.
He sighed and shrugged out of his coat. “I must ask. Have you taken drugs lately?”
What the fuck?
“No.” Not in months. Not since…not since Patrick died. We’d had a few rough months where we’d caused destruction all over Europe, no time to rest, no time to lose our edge. Finn, Colm, Patrick—several of us, basically—had done coke to stay awake and alert.
Shannon flicked on the light in the living room and dimmed it before walking over to me. He didn’t believe me, did he?
“Your behavior has changed.” He stopped right in front of me, and the bastard actually cupped my face in his hands and inspected my eyes. My pupils.
“Are you serious right now?” I asked quietly. I didn’t wanna get pissy again. I was too exhausted.
He narrowed his eyes and let his hands fall again. “I’m certainly not joking.”
I took a step back, uncomfortable by the close proximity, and folded my arms over my chest. “I’m just tired.”
Damn him. He was suddenly in the mood to watch and observe. It wasn’t a good time for me. “I don’t believe that,” he murmured. “When Grace was murdered, I lost my wife. Patrick and Finn lost their mother. But you lost a mother, too. And with Patrick—” He swallowed hard. “The focus landed on Finnegan and me because of our relation to Patrick. But you lost a brother, too.”
“Fuck this.” I didn’t know I’d spoken the words out loud until they reached my ears. Seriously, I wasn’t sticking around for this shit. I spun on my heel and continued walking toward my bedroom.
“You can’t avoid grief, son,” he said after me. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this.”
My steps faltered in the doorway to my room, and my chest felt tighter than ever.
“Have a drink with me,” he requested.
Chapter 3
I glanced at him over my shoulder to see him gesturing to the couch. “It’s four AM, Shannon.”
“Alcohol is still good at that hour, believe me.” He went to the liquor cabinet that he’d conveniently restocked a few days ago and grabbed a bottle of whiskey.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and searched for the anger within me. I knew it was there somewhere. Right now, though, I came up blank. There was absolutely nothing. Except for a small voice hiding in some dark corner, the one that always urged me to say yes to whatever Shannon O’Shea suggested. The one that always nudged me closer to the man.
I kicked off my shoes and trailed over to the couch.
Shannon cracked open a window and brought glasses and the bottle. “There’s one thing I’d like to ask right away,” he said. “I’ve noticed it more and more lately. Whenever there’s the slightest risk Finn might be put in harm’s way, you go off like a Rottweiler.”
That wasn’t a question…
“It’s my job—”
“It’s not, though.” Only Shannon could interrupt someone and keep the patience and kindness in his voice. “My son’s safety isn’t your responsibility. But you’re operating under fear…aren’t you? It’s the same thing I’ve been doing. What I keep doing,” he amended. “Perhaps that’s why I recognize it easier. I know what you’re going through, and I know the feelings you have—sometimes the lack of them too.”
I flicked a glance at him at that.
He handed me a glass of whiskey. “Yes, I know the apathy, Kellan. It leaves you cold.”
Fuck. I took a big gulp of the whiskey that was meant to be savored, but I needed something. “I don’t feel anything right now. Not a damn thing.”
He sat down next to me and rested his forearms on his thighs. “It can be a reprieve, can’t it?”
I guess.
I had no opinion.
“But you’re anything but cold, Kellan. To me and Grace, you will always be the charming boy who wouldn’t let us enroll you at Finn and Patrick’s school in the UK, because you refused to be that far away from your sister.”
What was he doing?
“Most of your friends here went to school at Aberdeen Grange at one point or another,” he said. “But every time we offered to take you there, you said no.”