Page 187 of Sins of Innocence

"They're leaving," Dagda says. "Do you want our men to follow?"

"My men already are." Mick points to where the car still filled with soldiers is already on the road, following our assailants.

His men jump back into the second car and take off a couple of seconds later.

That leaves my men to guard Áine and deal with the civilian woman caught in the trap.

Turns out? It's Allison.

Driving herself without a security detail because Kenneth Shaughnessy doesn't give a rat's ass about protecting his family, she was too slow to react to the accident happening in front of her.

"Get your wife to the hospital. I've got this." Mick waves his hand, indicating the crashed SUV and Allison's sedan.

"Copy that."

This fucking ordeal answered one question.

I love my wife.

The thought of losing her guts me like nothing ever has. Not my grandfather's murder. Not my grandmother's death. Not my mother's murder.

There's no other word that fits the feelings pounding in my chest right now.

Right after I broke my promise and failed yet again to protect my wife from attack.

Chapter forty-one

Three Little Words

ÁINE

He unlocks the suite door and steps back to let me in, creating physical distance between us like he's been doing since the hospital.

Kieran, who puts his hand on the small of my back to steer me through doorways. Who finds some point of contact within sixty seconds of being in the same space as me. Who does his best communicating when we're touching because our connection is what lets the words come.

That man. My man is not touching me.

No hand at my back.

No fingers finding mine.

No kiss against my hair.

Nothing.

He moves to the window. Away from me.

He stands there, arms crossed, back to me, his shoulders like he's standing at attention. I remember Brady used to do that, when he was drawing some kind of line between himself and the rest of his family. Mom said I was imagining things. I knew I wasn't.

And I'm not imagining Kieran doing it now.

He grabs his phone and makes a call. "She's okay. … Not even a mild concussion. … I don't want the girls to see me like this."

Like what? Locked down and emotionless?

"Appreciate it." He taps the phone screen and then reaches out to drop it on the table. "McL—Ellie is taking Maureen and the girls to a safehouse."

"We should be with them. They'll be scared being taken to a strange place and told they have to stay there." Mom will want to know why.