His grip on my hair tightens. “You have to marry her. He’s not going to give you any other options.”
“Callum won’t make me do anything I don’t want,” I say.
He plays with my hair, practically lulling me to sleep. “I mean Camille’s father. Do you really think he’s going to let his daughter be an unwed mother? You’re talking aboutCosa Nostra. They still think women belong barefoot in the kitchen while they’re out fucking whores, then come home to beat their children.”
I know he’s right, and that I’m in denial. But I can’t give him up, and he’s too good to be someone I screw on the side. I’d never want that for him. Griffin holds my heart, and he deserves more than everything I’ve done to him. I inhale a shaky breath, then exhale it long and slow.
“It’s you, Griffin. It’s always you. Please forgive me. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”
The silence that fills the air around us is damning. My stomach churns with guilt and nerves while I wait for what seems like years for his response.
“I don’t forgive you yet, Paddy. But for the first time since I found out what you’ve done, I can see myself forgiving you, and I think that’s a step in the right direction.”
My body relaxes, sagging against him, and a shaky sound leaves my mouth. “God, I fucking love you,” I say.
“I love you, too, Patrick. Too fucking much.”
Scottygroans,attemptingtoget comfortable in one of the guest rooms of Callum’s penthouse. Haley fluffs a pillow for him, then lifts his head and settles him back onto it. Scotty glares at her with disdain that only a stubborn man could give to a helping woman.
“I’m not paralyzed. I can fluff my pillow, Doc,” Scotty says, a grumble leaving his chest.
“I know you’re not paralyzed, Scotty. I’m the one who cut you open.” She blows a free strand of hair from her face, then turns to me. “Stay with him while I run and get him a glass of water and his pain meds.”
“Sure.” I stuff my hands into my pockets and glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand.
It’s four am the same night–or rather the next morning–that Scotty was shot, and I still haven’t called Camille. It’s too late at this point. I’ll have to call her in the morning. But that’s not my priority. Sergio already told me she was fine, and the fact she stopped calling me meant he convinced her I would respond when I could.
Haley leaves the room, and Scotty lets out a sigh.
“You’re lucky you put your phone in that pocket and not one in your pants,” I say.
“I am,” he admits.
“I’m sorry I had you following him. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt if it weren’t for me.”
Scotty grips my wrist. “You were right to,” he says. “It’s my job, and I should have done it better.”
“You did, Scotty. He’s untouched while you’re lying here with a hole in your chest.”
Haley comes into the room carrying a tray. She sets it down on the nightstand, then fusses over him while she gives him the meds. Turning to me, she straightens the hem of her white t-shirt. “You’ll stay in here with him?”
“Yeah,” I say, clearing my throat.
Haley hugs me, standing on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around my neck. “Thanks. Our door will be open if you need anything.”
“We’ve got it under control,” I say. “Thanks for everything you’ve done today.”
She pulls away, head shaking. “Don’t thank me. I’d do it for any of you.”
“I know you would.” I chew on the inside of my cheek and settle into the chaise lounge in the corner of the room while she leaves me alone with Scotty.
“Paddy?” Scotty asks when he’s sure she’s far enough down the hall she won’t overhear our conversation.
“Yeah, Scotty?”
“This isn’t your fault. You were right to put a detail on him.”
I’m silent for a beat. Heaviness fills my entire body, and I’m exhausted. It’s not just from lack of sleep, or this never ending shitty day. It’s from the past twelve years of my life, it’s from the constant way I lie and keep secrets, and it’s from the ache left whenever my other half isn’t with me. “Then why do I feel like everything is falling apart?” The crack in my voice shatters me.
