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Wild Irish by C.M. Seabrook (18)

Chapter 21

Delaney

I let out a small sigh when Cillian finally comes back. The last thing I want is to spend the last few days we have together fighting.

“I was just going to go look for you. I thought maybe you got–” I stop when I take in his appearance. His eyes are hard, emotionless. Not the typical broodiness that I’ve gotten used to, but something cold and detached of feeling.

This is more than just him being mad about me mentioning his brother.

“What’s wrong?” I ask slowly, not sure I want to know.

He shuts the door, but he doesn’t look at me. Instead, he stands there for a few long moments with his palm resting on the handle.

“Cillian?” I take a step toward him, but when I place my hand on his arm, he flinches.

My breath sticks in my throat when he finally looks at me. Nothing of the man I know is left. This man is volatile and full of hate. Worse, the hatred is directed straight at me.

“It’s time ye went home.” He pushes past me and starts collecting my stuff, throwing it carelessly into the suitcase he bought when we were in Limerick.

All I can do is stand there in confusion and watch him. “I–”

“Get yer things. Ye need to leave.”

“I don’t understand. If it’s about what I said earlier, I’m sorry–”

He chuckles, but there’s no humor to it. “I didn’t understand until now why you’d defend them.”

“Who?”

“To think I bought yer whole act.” His mouth curves up in a sneer, and I feel my heart being shredded in my chest. “But ye’re no better than any of them.”

Despite the warning in the back of my mind, I move towards him and get in his path, placing my hands on his chest. “I don’t know what you think I’ve done–”

He grabs my wrist, then lowers his face to mine and hisses through his teeth, “Your fiancé is waiting for you.”

Fiancé? My heart hammers in my chest.

Cillian’s gaze is on me, watching, studying, waiting for my reaction. But I still don’t know what the hell is going on.

Then it hits me.

Matt.

I frown. “Matt’s here?”

How did he find me?

Cillian releases my wrists and snorts. “He’s waiting in the coffee shop. Get yer stuff and go.”

That’s why he’s upset? Because he thinks I’m engaged? A small sliver of anger starts in my chest. After all this time. He really doesn’t know me at all.

“You’re making a mistake.” I drop my hands to my sides, the tiny bit of fight left inside of me leaving.

He grunts. “Funny, that’s what people always say when they get caught in a lie.”

I blink and tears fall over my cheeks. I knew this thing between us would end, I just didn’t expect it to end like this. Not with angry words. Not with him believing I’m just one more person who betrayed him.

“Cillian,” I say softly, already knowing he’s made up his mind and that I’ve lost him.

“Ye got what ye wanted. A little adventure. A little fling. But it’s over.” He tosses the bag at my feet, then turns his back on me. “Yer fiancé is waiting.”

Anger consumes what’s left of my confusion and self-pity. I know he won’t believe me, but I won’t leave here without correcting him.

“He is not–”

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

“Cillian.” Someone bangs on the door, hard. “Cillian, open the fucking door.”

The man’s voice is a mix of anger and panic. Cillian must hear it, too, because his brows draw down and he moves towards the door with urgency.

When the door swings opens, Aiden stands there, dark circles under his eyes, hair standing on end. He glances between us, and even I know that whatever he has to say is bad.

“Thank God, I finally found ye. Jaysus, why have ye had yer phone off for the last two days?” Aiden’s words come out in a tumble, and I see now that it’s more fear than anger that spurs him on.

“What are ye doing here?” Cillian tries his best to keep his voice steady, but I hear the quiver. “Is it Emer?”

Aiden shakes his head. “Ye need to come home. It’s Owen. He’s–”

“You already know my answer. If he’s gotten himself into trouble–”

“He’s in the hospital. They don’t…” Aiden’s eyes squeeze shut and he pinches the bridge of his nose. “They’re not sure if he’s going to make it.”

With that statement, every ounce of anger I felt moments before drains from me, and all I want to do is wrap my arms around Cillian, whose face has drained of color. For the first time since I met him, I see real fear in his eyes.

I want to comfort him, but when I step towards him, I see the barricade he’s already constructed. And I know I’ve lost him for good.

It’s over.

I just pray he doesn’t lose his brother, too.