Jamie
His jaw tightened, fists curling as she spoke.
Her voice cracked, laced with something that wasn’t just anger—it was humiliation. The kind that came from being made to feel small and helpless.
From being alone, still bleeding inside.
The truth spilled out in shaky breaths like she was nervous how he’d react. And in that moment, the vulnerability she’d kept hidden spilled into the open.
Word after word, he began to understand why she’d pushed him away, and every damn word only bound him tighter to her.
He dragged her onto his lap, her frantic pulse thudding. She met his gaze with those piercing blue eyes, pulling him under as always.
“Niall’s in rehab,” she said, forcing a smile like she still needed to be strong. “Everything will be okay now. Trixie’s safe. Your dad, too. We can be together…if that’s what you want?”
She shifted in his lap, and he tightened his hold around her waist, anchoring her there.
He stared at her, the fire in his chest burning low and slow.
Everything she’d fought through, after everything that fucker had done to her. And still, she sat there, offering him hope.
Not begging. Not clinging.
Just asking if he wanted her.
Fuck.
He’d never wanted anything more.
He slid his palm up her spine, resting it between her shoulder blades, keeping her close. His other hand settled on her thigh, possessive.
“What I want,” — he held her gaze, steady and unflinching — “is to take care of you. Just you and me, and whatever comes next.”
He skimmed his fingertips along her spine, loving the way her skin reacted.
“You’ve done enough surviving on your own. I’ll make it easier now.”
When she blinked fast, like she might cry, he pressed a kiss to her temple.
If only she knew how many mornings he’d woken up and battled the urge to walk into Coffee Kicks just to see if she was there.
Now he needed a moment to process everything, starting with a quiet word with the round-the-clock security detail on his father. After that, he’d turn his full attention to Niall.
He’d give the bastard time, but Jamie knew how to strike when it mattered.
He’d make sure the message not to fuck with the McGraths would be clear. And from now on, Shannon belonged to him, regardless of her surname.
Pressing his forehead to hers, Jamie breathed her in.
“I won’t lie to you, love. I want to kill him.”
Her body tensed. “Don’t do anything reckless, Jamie. He won’t be home for months, and when he comes back… things will be different.”
She swallowed hard. “He’s still Harry’s son. If something happened to Niall, he’d never forgive me.”
Her voice cracked on the last word, and the war between justice and restraint twisted in his gut.
“I don’t give a fuck about them.”
