Page 123 of Broken Blood Ties

Being with Kieran makes those tortuous years of being alone in Boston or dealing with my family worth it. It makes me want this forever. It doesn’t matter that I don’t want this life, I want him. I will not run. He deserves happiness, and I want to be the one who makes that happen. To help with Aoife, to stand with him as a leader, and to share this life with him.

Yes, I didn’t want this, butheproved me wrong.

Chapter37

Kieran

Summer: How’s work?

Okay. Readying for a fight tonight.

Summer: You’re fighting?

No. Going to head home and see Aoife soon.

Wish you were here.

Summer: Me too. Luna can’t cook, lol.

I’ll have Allie make sure all your favorites are on the menu for when you get back.

Summer: What about me? Can I be on your menu?

Careful, love. I’ll change the way you walk with that mouth.

Summer: Can’t wait

Summer left Monday for New York and the house is too quiet. Which is saying something with an almost five-year-old at home. I was worried that with her going to New York she’d pull away, but she’s texting me, and it allows me to hope that she really wants to come back and be with us. It’s taking every ounce of self-control not to go and get her.

This week has been hard. Coming home to an empty bed when all I want to do is wrap my arms around her has made it worse. She’d spent the next two nights in my bed after s’more night, and it will never be enough. I want her in my bed every night. Forever.

Therefore, I instructed Allie to move all her stuff into my room while she’s gone. The guest room can go back to being for guests, and Summer can come back to being mine.

But first I need to finalize work here before I can go home.

Oscar is missing, adding to the ridiculousness this week. He hasn’t checked in and tonight he’s one of the main fighters, but nowhere to be found.

My hand grips the whiskey glass tight enough I can see the white in my scarred knuckles, and I use my other to shove the paperwork off my desk. Where is he?

Two knocks on the door sound before Cormac lets himself in. I glance up at him and do a double take. He’s pale. “What is it?”

“Boss. Riku is here to see ya.”

I stiffen, knocking my fist against the desk. “What’s he want?”

“Wouldn’t say. Wants a private audience with ye before tonight.”

I swallow the growl in my throat at his showing up here, demanding a meeting like I’m beneath him. I cannot let this continue. This isn’t the way I want the Irish legacy to be—subject to another organization. It’s part of the reason I don’t have formal alliances with the Bratva.

My father always taught me that alliances limit your autonomy and can expose you to vulnerabilities if it fails. He was wary of them, and now I am, too.

“Send him in,” I say, pulling my splayed paperwork together and stacking it in the corner of my desk. I eye the photo of Aoife and snatch that as well, opening a drawer and stashing it away.

I pick at my Henley, wishing I dressed in something different. Had I known this meeting was taking place, I’d have worn a suit. From behind my desk, I spy Riku strutting down the hall in his usual all-leather outfit. He smirks when he sees me, and I stand, tucking my hands into the pocket of my jeans.

Cormac stops him at my door to pat him down before gesturing him inside.

“Paranoid much?” Riku says, walking forward and dropping into one of the chairs opposite mine. He rubs his hands down the front of his zipped leather jacket.