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"I don't want this life for him," I say, nodding toward the living room. "I don't want him growing up surrounded by blood and bullets. Where brothers kill brothers, Declan I won't let that happen."

"Like I grew up?"

"Yes."

Pain flashes in his eyes. "I don't want that either."

I turn away, unable to bear the raw honesty in his gaze. "You should clean up before he sees you like this."

"Maeve." He catches my arm, his touch electric on my skin. "I need to know what you have told him about his father."

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"I told him his father lives far away. That's all." I pull my arm free. "I didn't want to lie, but I also didn't want him asking questions I couldn't answer."

Declan nods, accepting this. "I should tell him."

"Not yet."

"When?"

"When we are safe, and I will tell him. Not you."

He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. "And if we're never safe?"

I have no answer for that.

"First aid kit?" he asks, changing the subject.

"Bathroom, probably. It’s your house not mine."

He moves to leave but pauses. "Cormac knows. About Conor."

My stomach drops. "You told him?"

"I had to. I need his help to protect you both."

"And what did the mighty Cormac Donovan say about his newfound nephew?"

Declan's mouth tightens. "He wants to meet him."

"Absolutely fucking not."

"Maeve—"

"No. I won't have Conor anywhere near your family. Over my dead body does Cormac get to play uncle."

"They are his family too." Like fuck they are.

We glare at each other, neither willing to back down. I hate that I still want him. That after everything, my body still remembers his.

"The safe house in Kerry," Declan says. "Cormac offered it. It's more secure than this place."

"I'm not going anywhere with your brother."

"You don't have to. I'll take you."