Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 81504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t form words. I know she needs me, though, when her plaintive, tear-stained face lifts and she whispers, “Help me, Tully.”
I move like a man possessed, my body moving of its own accord.
Somehow, I put the gun away. I kneel and lift her into my arms, nauseated by the sight of blood. Never in my life has blood made me sick, but never have I seen the blood of the woman I love.
I bend and lift her into my arms, holding her to me so as I carry her out of the building. Her head is buried on my chest, and she’s crying quietly.
“Wrenching pain,” she whispers. “The worst cramps I’ve ever had, and I knew, I just knew….”
“Did anyone hurt you?”
She shakes her head. “No one came in the room. I was fine, until…” her voice trails off, and her arms around my neck tighten.
Lachlan drives us back. Tiernan drives the truck back with the men we captured and Faidha. She’s mercifully fine, secured in the passenger seat with a bandage around her arm.
When we arrive home, Faidha’s whisked away to the infirmary to see Sebastian. Tiernan and Lachlan attend to our prisoners, and I call Maeve.
“Tully? Is everything alright?”
“No, Maeve. I need your help. It’s McKenna.”
“What is it?” she asks, concern etched in her features.
I swallow hard. My voice is hoarse, not my own. “The baby, Maeve.”
She knows the instant she sees McKenna. She covers her mouth, and her eyes fill with tears.
“Oh, love,” she says, and the tenderness in her voice makes McKenna weep. I carry her upstairs, and Maeve holds her hand. She brings her into the bath to clean her up.
“Call Megan, Tully,” Maeve says quietly over her shoulder.
I call Megan, and when she answers, I can barely speak. I never get choked up. I haven’t cried since I was a lad. Yet somehow, the words won’t come.
“Hello? Tully? Are you there?”
“We need help, Megan,” I finally manage to say.
She pauses and sighs.
“Oh, Tully. Just got the text from Maeve. I’m on my way.”
It’s a sad, sad day at the McCarthy family mansion. I don’t remember a sadder day since we laid Seamus McCarthy to rest. Grief hangs like a pall in the air. Even the children are somber and quiet.
My brothers interrogate the men we found at the school, and Keenan promises me they’ll hold them for further interrogation from me once I’ve got McKenna settled. News of McKenna’s miscarriage sweeps through the house, and my phone dings with so many texts, I finally shut it off and toss it in the drawer by the nightstand.
When Faidha’s secured, Sebastian joins us. He examines McKenna, gives her some medicine, and prescribes rest.
“She’ll be fine, Tully,” he says with a sad smile. “Unfortunately, it’s more common than one may think, and women come through it just fine.” He pats my arm. “That woman of yours is a strong one. She’ll get through this.”
“What caused it, Sebastian?”
“We rarely know the cause, Tully.”
“Was it fear?”
Did the attack at the school today instigate her loss?
Will he give me a reason to kill them, to take out my anger, fury, and helplessness on the men who came to attack?
“There’s no evidence to support that. Sometimes, there’s no one to blame.”
I don’t like his response, but I nod and thank him.
I want someone to fucking blame.
He leaves.
I’d like to think when tragedy strikes, I’m the bloke that holds it together. We’ve lost brothers in battle. We’ve dealt with deaths and murder, threats and danger at every turn. I’ve been on both the receiving and administering end of harsh punishment and interrogation, and I’ve taken the life of our enemies. Repeatedly.
But never, never as a grown man of the Clan, have I ever been as afraid as I am now. As unsure of myself. I’ve never faced something as heartbreaking.
I open the door to the bedroom to find McKenna curled up on her side in bed, the blanket tucked up around her neck. The room is darkened. Beside her there’s a table laden with food, but she hasn’t touched it. Her eyes are closed, but her breathing’s labored, so I don’t think she’s asleep.
I sit beside her, and her eyes flutter open.
“Baby.”
She pushes the blanket aside and reaches for me. “Oh, Tully.”
Her tears rend my heart. I reach for her and pull her to my chest, gently rocking, as she cries all over again. I let her say everything she needs to.
“It hurt. So much pain, and so much blood. And it was my fault, Tully. I didn’t want this baby and I willed it away. It’s my fault. I’ve brought this on both of us.”
“Now, lass, we’ll have none of that,” I say gently. “You no more brought this on yourself than I made the fucking sun set tonight. It just happens sometimes.”