Page 155 of Bad Bishop

He was here.

He survived.

… and so did I.

I reached to touch his hand to alert him that I was awake. His head snapped up. His eye was a pool of misery and concern. The sadness in it tore me to shreds worse than the accident did.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

I mustered a weak smile. “It was just a scratch. Me and the baby are okay.” Not that he wanted to hear about the baby. “Tell me you didn’t kill Alex, Tiernan.”

“Who cares—”

I put my palm up to stop him. “I do. I don’t want you to dwell on what happened to me, at least not yet. Distract me. Tell me what happened in Vegas.”

My husband never took orders from anyone. Let alone a hundred-and-six-pound teenager. Still, he humored me.

His jaw flexed, and he ran his tongue along his straight upper teeth. “He’s alive. We struck a deal with the Bratva. Achilles took a souvenir in the form of his brother, Jeremie. It’s all settled.”

I smiled, even though it hurt my face. “Good.”

“Are you in pain?”

“No,” I lied. The doctors prescribed me with the minimum dose of morphine, but I opted out of it, for the sake of the baby. Every breath made me feel dizzy with pain.

“Did you get hurt?”

“No.”

“Do you know who slammed into us?” I knew better than to believe it was an accident. Especially when the other vehicle managed to escape.

“Working on it.”

“Is Tierney okay?”

“She’s fine.” When he realized how snappy he sounded, he added, “Awake and pissed off, which means she’s back to normal.”

We stared at each other, the silence in my ears louder than ever before.

“What’s with you?” I cocked my head, frowning.

Did he want the baby to die? Was he disappointed that he pulled through?

“I have something to say.”

Oh, no. That didn’t sound good. I waited. When he said nothing, I nervously joked, “Are we waiting for each other’s permission to speak now? Because you know I’m defiant.”

Tiernan didn’t smile. He was very still, as usual. Sculpture-like. Ice ran in his veins. I looked down, following his line of vision.

His hands were trembling.

And then the man who never blinked, did, in fact, blink. A rare moment of letting himself go. Of forgetting his indestructible self-possession at the door.

“I love you.”

And for the first time in my life, I was crushed that I couldn’t hear. Because his words—thesewords—I wanted them in my ears, in my heart, in my veins.

“I love you with a force that could destroy planets and universes, Lila.” His face twisted in self-loathing. My expression must’ve given my glee away, because he sighed. “You shouldn’t bask in it,Gealach. You should be very, very afraid. I have no red lines when it comes to you. No logic. I will love this baby as my own, because anything born of you is bound to be perfection. Hewillbe mine. And I would kill for him. Die for him.” The words rushed over my skin, heating it with pleasure even my orgasms couldn’t give me. Nourishing me back to life.