Page 172 of Broken Lies
Chapter Thirty-Seven
RILEY
The cracksin my armor are starting to form as I watch Kieran walk away.
I know that this isn’t goodbye, and yet the pit in my stomach is making it feel like I’m never going to see him again.
“Kieran.” I’m on my feet and running after him before Ronan can stop me.
His shoulders tense at the sound of his name, and I fear for a moment that he’s going to walk out without saying goodbye. But then he turns and closes the distance between us so quickly that I barely have time to realize until I’m wrapped up in his arms and breathing in his musky cologne.
“You’ll be safe with Ronan.” He sinks his fingers into my hair and holds me tight against his chest.
The soft thud of his heartbeat soothes me, reminding me that he’s here, that he’s alive.
But for how long?
“Let me come, I can help?—”
“No.”
I pull back just enough so I can look up into his eyes. “Why not?”
“Because I said so.”
“Please—”
“It’s not an option!”
His tone is sharp, and I flinch.
His eyes close. “Fuck, I’m sorry. It’s just…”
Something like pain flickers in his eyes, and another crack forms.
“Kieran.” I reach up to stroke his cheek, the stubble rough against my palm as he leans into my touch.
“I can’t focus with you around, little dove. You consume me in every possible way. It is both a blessing and a curse.” He takes my face in his hands and leans down to rest his forehead against mine. “You are everything to me.”
When he presses his lips to mine, the tears finally start to fall.
His thumbs gently brush over my cheeks, wiping them away before he’s gone, and I’m left standing alone in the foyer, feeling as if my heart has been shattered.
The sound of footsteps has me furiously wiping at my face in time for Ronan to appear, looking grave.
“This is the right move for us to make.”
“It doesn’t feel like it.”
“That’s often how you know.”
The driveto the safehouse is quiet. Ronan doesn’t speak, and Ciara rests one hand on her belly as she leans her head against the window.
I sit in the backseat, staring at the blur of trees as they pass, thinking of Kieran.
That ambush earlier was too close. Whoever was behind it is clearly one step ahead, and next time, we might not be so lucky.
When the car finally pulls up in front of a two-story, red-bricked house tucked back from the road, a brief sense of relief washes over me at the fact I’m not being forced to live in a reinforced underground bunker for God-knows how long.
