My mum comes to me and does something she hasn’t done since I was a child. She hugs me. “I love ye, Sinclair.”
“I love you too.” I can’t recall the last time I heard or said those words.
My mum leaves and she sends Bleu back. “I know you do a damn fine job of protecting yourself but I don’t want you staying alone. I’ve spoken to my parents and you’re going to their house until I’m out of here.”
“I will if it’ll make you feel better.”
No argument? She’s making this very easy. “It’s what I want.”
Good. I’ve ensured her safety. Now, all I have to do is survive.
Chapter Seventeen
Bleu MacAllister
I’m not prepared for how quickly Sin’s condition declines. Within an hour, he’s dependent upon a ventilator to breathe for him because his body can no longer do it on its own. I’m terrified he isn’t going to survive the night.
Oh my God. When did I start to care so much for this son of a bitch? How’s it possible? If I disregard the part about who he is, the reality is that we haven’t known one another long enough for me to be this attached.
I’m able to answer my own question before the thought is fully developed. He isn’t a stranger to me. I’ve studied Liam Sinclair Breckenridge for years. He’s been a part of my life for a long time. I came here knowing everything about him. Almost.
He’s a thief who stole something much more precious than ever before—my heart. I never dreamed in a million years I could fall in love with the son of my mother’s killer. How sick is that? I’m certain there’s no psychological diagnosis to fit how morbid this is.
For so long I’ve wanted to feel what other people feel. Now that I do, I just want it to stop. I would give anything to go back to feeling nothing again.
I’m holding his hand when his critical care nurse comes into the room. “You haven’t left his side in two days. You need rest as well.”
I can’t leave him. What if he wakes up for two minutes and looks for me but I’m not here? “I’ve been sleeping a little here and there.”
“What you’ve been doing can’t be classified as sleep.”
I stroke his hair away from his face. He needs a haircut and his facial scruff could use a trim.
“Have you been together long?”
“Only five weeks but it feels like much longer, as if we’ve known one another forever.” That’s not the whole truth. I’ve been acquainted with him for years. He’s only just met me.
“Have you been talking to him?” she asks.
“No.” That sounds like something a nurturing person would do. That’s not me.
“You should. They can hear you.”
“I don’t know what I’d say.”
“It isn’t about the words. He only needs to hear your voice to know you’re by his side. It can be very reassuring if he’s confused or scared but most importantly, it’s healing.”
I very much doubt the sound of my voice will help to heal him, but it won’t hurt anything, either. “I can try.”
I look at Sin once the nurse is gone and wonder what in the world to say to him. This kind of thing isn’t me. But I’m determined to try if it might help. “Breck. It’s Bleu. I’m here with you. You’re not alone.” I squeeze his hand. “Do you feel that?” I get no response. No grip of his hand or flutter of his eyes.
I move from the chair to his bed and slip in next to him, careful to not tug on any of his tubes or lines. If hearing my voice is good for him, then feeling my touch must be better.
I stroke my knuckles down his unshaven face. “Sinclair Breckenridge. You come back to me right now. Please. I’m here, waiting for you.”
I move my hand to his chest and feel the beat of his heart beneath it. “I want you to listen for my voice through the darkness. Let it bleed through so you can hear me.” I move my fingers to his inked Celtic shield of protection. “I’m not letting go of you. It’s not time for our story to end.”
Nothing.
“I need you to see into me.”
* * *
Sin dances on the brink of death a few times before finally making a turn for the better. It hasn’t been easy but he’s almost fully recovered. He’s well enough to be discharged from the hospital tomorrow, so that means I won’t be sleeping under his parents’ roof after tonight. I have no choice. It’s time to kill Thane.
I’ve familiarized myself with all things within the Breckenridge compound–surveillance camera locations, Thane’s schedule, the guards at the exterior entrances along with the times of their rotation. Lucky for me, they haven’t considered the notion of the enemy being welcomed inside with open arms.
I’m struggling with my decision. Not because I care anything about Thane. My conflict is spurred by my feelings for Sin. I hate the thought of destroying his world, especially so soon after his brush with death. But I’m forced to choose who comes first–him or Harry.
I can’t continue to stay. Time is my other enemy. I must do this and get home so I can be with my dying father. I’ve already lost more time than I intended.
I need to hear Harry’s reassuring voice one last time before I go through with this. I use my burner phone to place the call and he answers on the first ring. “Hey, girlie.”
“I’m calling about the status of my account.” I spout off a phony number.
Harry and I have our own language no one else is privy to. Each line has been carefully chosen to signify something distinct. We do this because my voice could be heard through a planted bug. “I’m withdrawing the entire balance so I’ll be closing the account today.”
“You’re inside Thane’s?”
“Yes.”
“You’re proceeding tonight?” I have to. I’m not sure when I’ll have another opportunity.
“That’s right.”
“Be careful, girlie. You’re a lamb in the lion’s den. There’s no room for error.” He’s right. One false move and I’m dead. Game over.
“Of course.”
“In devoting your life to making this right, it would be a shame to get it wrong. Take your time. Don’t rush the kill.” I’ve vested my entire existence around this moment. I’ve lived and breathed for it. I won’t ruin it now.
“Everything appears to be correct.”