Page 71 of Fighting for Irish
Setting the knife aside, he used his thumbs to press in on the sides of the incision. Rivulets of blood ran out from the cut to soak into the towel below, but a moment later the tracker slid out rather easily. He set it in a gauze square, then quickly cleaned and bandaged the cut. When it was over, he slid across the bench seat and gathered her into his arms. She buried her head in his neck where the wetness on his skin from her tears felt like she’d turned the blade on him.
“I’m so fucking sorry, kitten,” he whispered at her ear. “The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you like that. I’m gonna make those bastards pay for everything they’ve done to you. I swear it.”
She sniffed and pulled back to wipe her face and offer him a weak smile. “I’m fine. A few ibuprofen, and I’ll be as good as new.”
Unable to help himself, he kissed her and reveled in the softness of her lips and the way she melted into him. A knock on the window by Xander broke them apart and set their plan in motion once again.
Aiden accepted the plastic bag of waters and snacks and gave the tracker to his friend, who tossed it into Kat’s car.
“Right,” Xan started. “I’ll go stash the car. I’ve already set it up with Anders to come and collect me and Murphy. He said we can stay with him for a few days, no questions asked.”
“Sounds good. With any luck, if they show up at the house, Ally’ll put that bad temper to good use.”
“Aye, that would be something, wouldn’t it?” Xander walked around and leaned in through Kat’s open window. “Come on, lass, give ol’ Xan a hug.”
She did, wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing. “Thank you so much, Xander. For everything.” When she finally released the rough-and-tough Yorkie, his eyes looked suspiciously misty.
“It’s been my pleasure, pet.”
Kat gathered Murphy in her hands, kissed his little nose, and handed him over to Xander. Feeling the urgency tugging on him, Aiden moved his duffel to the backseat and started the Nova. The engine roared to life, strong and steady, promising to carry them as far as they needed to be safe for the night.
Xander had crossed back around to his side. Leaning down, he pinned Aiden with a somber stare. “You know, Aid, maybe you should think about ringing Joey. I know the local law enforcement isn’t an option. Maybe he’d be able to help, or at least tell you of someone else who can.”
“Forget it, Xan,” he said tightly. “I’m not opening that fucking can of worms. I’ll figure this out on my own.”
Xander’s disappointment showed, but he didn’t press the issue. Aiden didn’t like leaving on a sour note with the man who’d been his best friend for the last several years, but he didn’t have time to fix it. He needed to get Kat the hell away from that tracker. And with that single thought riding him, he said good-bye to his friend and drove away.
…
“Who’s Joey?”
They’d been driving on the highway in silence for the last twenty minutes since leaving the truck stop. Kat was exhausted and her arm hurt and she’d reached her limit of playing the Alphabet Game as a means of mental distraction.
“We were best friends from the time we were in diapers. Our moms were friends, and we grew up on the same block.”
Irish may have decided to appease her need for conversation, but the way his left arm tensed as he gripped the wheel a little harder made her think he wasn’t all that thrilled about it. Unfortunately for him, her curiosity was piqued enough to push for any information he would give her about him and his past. There was so much she wanted to know, to understand.
“But you aren’t friends anymore?”
The muscle in his jaw jumped. “No.”
Tiny hairs on the back of her neck prickled in warning. Something was telling her to shut the hell up. Maybe it was her intuition, or maybe he was silently praying she’d stop prying. Either way, she ignored it.
“Why not?”
“It’s hard to maintain a friendship when you kill a guy’s little sister.”
Kat sighed. “Damn, Irish, even I know you’re not supposed to date your best friend’s sister. How badly did you break her heart?”
“I didn’t break it, Kat,” he said, his voice razor sharp. “I stopped it.”
“Yeah, but…you mean that metaphorically. Right?”
“I mean for the last five years, she’s been six feet underground, and I’m the one who put her there.”
“Irish, no.” She shook her head. There must be some mistake. “You could never.”
Kat stared at his profile as it blinked in and out of the streetlamps shining through the windshield. He didn’t respond for what seemed like forever and when he did it was flat, lifeless. “Just because you don’t want something to be true doesn’t mean it isn’t.” He glanced in her direction and softened his tone. “You know that.”
