Page 21

CHAPTER 21

F ionola paced the gardens behind the Black Cat Inn, worried about Patrick and how extensive his injury might be if it was taking him so long to recover.

All that blood!

She shuddered at the remembered sight of it gushing down his scalp. How was it possible to continuously inflict that level of damage on yourself and not stop the instant pain registered? Having accidentally banged her head a time or two, she couldn’t purposely do it once to herself, much less the number of times he had.

The defeat in his expression was the worst for her to bear. To see him uncaring if he lived or died had come close to destroying her. He was so broken that day.

A sob escaped her throat, and she sucked in a handful of steadying breaths. She couldn’t lose it. Not until she was certain he was well. Then, she could hide in her room and cry until her stupid eyes fell out, where no one was the wiser. Cry for all she’d thought she’d found and lost within days. Cry for Patrick, who didn’t deserve the cards dealt to him.

“Fi.”

Noah’s deep voice washed over her, and she wanted to turn around so badly, but if she did, she knew what she’d see: caring, concern, and perhaps a little longing. Censure, for sure.

His presence had grown, because she could feel it as he approached when she never could before. He’d always had a calming air about him, but this was more, somehow. What had changed? The touch of his hand on her back was electrifying, but not in the sexual way she remembered. Side-shifting to break the contact, she faced him.

“I can’t right now, Noah.” She was surprised by the steel in her tone, especially when her spine felt like jelly.

“You’re barely holding it together, love.”

“Don’t call me that!” she snapped. Would she forever think of Patrick when someone used that particular endearment? It was common enough, which meant he’d never be far from her thoughts, if that was the case.

Astonishment caused Noah’s dark almond-shaped eyes to flare wide. “I’ve always called you that, Fi.”

“Well, I don’t want you to anymore, yeah?” she grumbled. “I’m not your love. Not now, not ever.”

Hurt transformed his face, but in a flash, he smoothed it into a mask of indifference. One she’d witnessed countless times.

“Why do you do that?” she asked. “Hide your true feelings all the bleedin’ time?”

“What good does it if I lay my heart on my sleeve for all the world to see?” he countered.

Her anger began to build. Anger on behalf of herself and all the other women who weren’t mind readers.

“What good? I’ll tell ya!” She punched his chest, taking gratification when he winced and raised a hand to rub the spot. “Maybe if you’d shown a little heart , just once , I wouldn’t have moved on!” She socked his upper arm. “I wouldn’t have been open to a relationship with another man, because I’d have been secure with you .” With vicious intent, she kicked his shin and smiled her delight when he yowled his pain. “And I might’ve listened to you and not gone with the man who broke my fucking heart!”

Breathing heaving, she stared at him. Her confession stood between them, and the bitter truth of what she’d said sunk in. She’d wanted Noah to love her beyond measure, to the point she would never consider another, but he hadn’t. Or maybe she hadn’t loved him to that extent, and he’d sensed it. Although their relationship ended with very little strife, it had hurt. But it wasn’t anything near the ache she was experiencing at the moment.

“You’re right.”

She blinked. “What?”

“I said you’re right, Fi.” Holding up his hands in surrender, he ventured closer. Once a hairsbreadth separated them, he tipped up her chin. “I should’ve shown you what was in my heart. I love you, Fionola. More than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in my lifetime.” He snorted. “And trust me when I tell ya, it’s been a feckin’ long one.”

“You’re not much older than me,” she scoffed.

Amusement curled his lips. It wasn’t the first time she’d received the impression he was holding back a laugh at her expense.

“Exactly how old are you, Noah Riley?” she demanded.

“You don’t want to know.”

“Aye, I do.” The thumb stroking her jaw was annoying and too similar to his seduction technique of the past when he wanted to avoid a truthful answer. It floored her to realize it didn’t work this time. The only man whose touch she craved was in a room upstairs, fighting for his life. And she should be with him. “But not right now. I’ve to see to Patrick.”

Noah scowled. “That’s not a good idea, lo—uh, Fi.”

Hands on her hips, she glared. “And why the fuck not?”

“I’ve been sent to take you home.”

“I’ll not leave until I see Patrick is well, so go on with ya.”

“Fi.” The warning in his tone turned her stomach to lead.

“I’m not leaving,” she said, stubborn to the last. “The O’Malleys can tell me to go all they want, sure, but I’ll stay right here until Patrick tells me himself.”

“It’s Patrick who wants you to leave,” Noah said, not unkindly. Concern for her was in every line of his beautifully sculpted face.

Belated awareness struck. His gorgeousness was another reason she might’ve been afraid of a future with him. She’d believed she’d truly wanted it at the time, but without a doubt, she’d have found a way to sabotage it, fearing he’d leave her eventually. And why wouldn’t he? She wasn’t anyone special, but him—oh, great Goddess above—he was as grand a man as she’d ever seen, and women lined up for miles looking to shag him. His pub was packed to the rafters every night with hopefuls. How could a woman ever feel secure with a man like him?

Oh, for sure, she wasn’t questioning his character. When committed, Noah didn’t stray. It was the others she didn’t trust to not fill his pockets to the brim with jotted-down phone numbers and his head with offers.

Patrick was different. He wouldn’t flirt, unknowingly giving the impression of a willing man. Indeed, his semi-permanent scowl would scare most and send the weak-willed fleeing.

And he loved her.

Her stint in the garden had made clear the truth of it. Many times, she’d replayed their last conversation, torturing herself with “what ifs.” What if she’d just listened to him? Truly heard what he was trying to tell her? What if she hadn’t panicked when he’d allowed a glimpse of the man behind the curtain? Could she have convinced him to release the others and saved him the self-destructive actions that brought them to this moment?

She’d like to think so.

“Are you going to ignore me, then?” Noah released a half-hearted chuckle. “Yeah, and it wouldn’t be the first time,” he teased.

“I’ll hear it from Patrick, himself,” she said, lifting her chin. Noah’s visage blurred, but she received the impression of movement, right before he embraced her.

“Oh, Fionola.” He sighed, and the sound was unhappy. His touch was tender as he brushed her cheek. “What’s to be done about you, woman?”

A sob tore at her throat, and the next thing she knew, she was pouring her heart out to him, there on the ground beside a boxed hedge with birds chirping as if they didn’t grasp the depth of her despair.

With his cheek pressed to the top of her head, Noah rocked her as she cried, rubbing circles on her back as he silently listened to her misadventures. When she was empty, she inhaled a shuddering breath. Fatigue made her lids leaden weights, and after each blink, it was difficult to lift them again.

“Rest, Fi.”

“I won’t leave until I see him,” she argued.

“We’ll stay right here, you and me. When you wake, we’ll storm the castle gates, we will.”

“My reluctant hero.” She smiled as she laid her head on his lap. Staring up toward Patrick’s bedroom window, she sighed. “He thinks he doesn’t deserve love, Noah. That he’s a monster for what he’s done.”

“Isn’t he?”

The lack of snideness caused her to consider the question without prejudice. Noah hadn’t asked out of spite that she could determine, merely curiosity, and perhaps to force her to contemplate her answer rather than reply in a knee-jerk way.

“I don’t believe he is,” she said. Movement on the other side of the glass caught her notice, and she held her breath, hoping for a glimpse of Patrick. With keen disappointment that it didn’t happen, Fi pressed her lids together, hoping to ease the sting. “He’s grumbly when he wants to hide his softer side. Like you.” Fi patted Noah’s knee, smiling when he huffed out a laugh. “But he’s kind, too. He never electrified those bars, and I don’t believe his intention was to hurt people. The prison was posher than most inns I’ve seen, and all the meals were gourmet. Like a feckin’ five-star resort.”

“But they were still prisoners, Fi. Abducted for the second time. Do you know how that added to their torment? The PTSD is off the charts with some of those puir bastards.”

“He was tormented, too, Noah. Longer than any of them, and multiple times, to boot!” She sat up and turned a beseeching look on him. “You didn’t see him when he recounted those stories to me. We had hours and hours of conversation about Loman O’Connor, that manky fucker!” Swallowing hard, she met his steady gaze. “You’re likely thinking I’ve developed Stockholm syndrome, but I haven’t. I was good and furious when I found out what he’d done, but I’ve had nothing but time to think and recall everything. Playing it all over and over while dissecting it.”

“And you don’t believe your memories are skewed? That you’re recalling what you want and blocking out what you don’t?” Noah asked.

“No.”

How did she tell him it was in the quiet moments, the ones when they cuddled down for afternoon naps or to sleep in the evenings, that she’d felt closest to Patrick the most? The beauty of their lovemaking and the quirky humor they’d shared were life-changing for her. She’d felt truly seen and appreciated for the first time in her entire life.

“I know what he did. He fabricated an entire compound and lied to everyone, me included. And sure, it’ll take time to trust him again, but I don’t think he’s evil. I don’t believe he hurt anyone intentionally, Noah. He was mixed up in his mind and seeking the familiar in a cold, hard world.”

With a sad sigh, he patted his thigh. “Take a nap, Fi. It’ll be sorted soon enough.”

As Noah stroked Fi’s wavy strawberry-blonde hair and tucked it behind her ear, he listened for her altered breathing to indicate she was finally asleep. He’d failed to inform her Patrick O’Malley would face the Witches’ Council for his actions, preferring not to destroy her heart completely. The sentence would be death should Patrick fail to make his case.

The man had asked Noah to see her home, stating she’d need him more than ever. But as he sat here with the woman he loved to distraction, he knew he wasn’t who she wanted. It mattered not that his body craved hers and his heart refused to consider another. His time with Fionola was at an end, and he’d lost his chance at a happily ever after. No matter what happened with Patrick, Fi wouldn’t come home to him. She’d never be his completely. And Goddess forbid the man was put to death, because she’d be inconsolable.

Footsteps on the pebbled path caught his attention, and based on the quixotic emotions of the newcomer, it was no surprise when Patrick turned the corner. He came to a stop a foot away, and his hungry gaze swept Fi’s form before settling on her relaxed visage.

The man’s longing was the worst. Noah could feel it like a living thing, tingling beneath his skin and causing the hairs to stand on end. The want wasn’t sexual in nature, and his desire was pure, raw yearning. Patrick O’Malley hungered for Fionola Bohannon to love him as much as he loved her. The fierce ache was heavy and constant, much like a never-ending heart attack, causing pressure in the man’s chest.

Noah understood the emotion for what it was. He felt close to the same for Fi, himself.

“She won’t go,” he said in a low voice.

“Aye. She’s a stubborn one.” Patrick’s voice was equally low, but his possessed a raspy quality, as if, maybe like Fi, he’d been sobbing, too.

“You’ve gotten to know her well, then?”

Murky green eyes met his. The color told the tale of a miserable man, but Patrick skillfully hid his emotions behind a blank mask. Only when he looked at Fionola did his adoration for her show through.

“Well enough,” Patrick said gruffly. “She’s too open and sweet for her own good. You’ll teach her not to be so trusting, yeah?”

“I’ll not be teaching her anything, old man. She’s a grown woman with a mind of her own.”

A half smile tugged the corner of Patrick’s mouth up. “Aye, she is. But like I said before, she’ll need ya, all the same.” His lips firmed into a straight line. “They’ll be after putting me to death tomorrow.”

“I know nothing about Council business, but I’ve heard they’re an ill-humored bunch,” Noah said in agreement. Hadn’t he drawn the same conclusion mere minutes before? “Do you have a representative to defend you?”

“Don’t need one. I’ll welcome any punishment they see fit to hand out.”

“You’re a fool not to fight, O’Malley.” Noah shook his head and dropped his gaze to Fi. “If only so you can return to her.”

“She’ll not have me.”

He snorted and shot an amused look the man’s way. “So, you’re a fool in general, then, aye?” Chuckling at Patrick’s scowl, Noah shook his head. “I’ve been around for a couple of centuries, and as sure as I’m sitting here, wishing things were different and she loved me instead, I can tell you that the woman is mad for you.” He allowed all the sincerity he could muster to hang between them. “Ones like Fionola Bohannon don’t come along every day, man. If your brain has truly knitted back together, then you’ll recognize it and make feckin’ sure to come through the trial alive.”