Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“Understandable. But you’re gonna have to live with Finn and me intervening more from now on. We gotta make sure it doesn’t get worse.”
He sighed tiredly and set down his glass. “I wish you wouldn’t bother. I’ve lost my composure.” He let out a humorless chuckle. “As you can see, since I’m sitting here talking to you.”
I frowned and took a pull from my smoke. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That I’m not supposed to fall apart in front of my goddamn children,” he snapped under his breath. “Or my children’s friends—what the fuck ever. Christ.”
“Oh, get over it, mate.” I couldn’t fucking believe him. “You’re too old to worry about composure.”
He snorted at that, and it felt good. I’d take any pinch of humor, no matter how small.
Then he threw back the rest of his drink and lit up a new smoke with his old one.
It was a sliver of reassurance to know he had no immediate plans to leave.
In fact, I wanted to dig in on that topic. “Doesn’t it get worse when you’re alone?” Or was that just me? I’d had nightmares every night in the first few weeks, so I’d started sleeping with the TV on. The background noise helped.
“Yes.” He hung his head and blew out a breath. “I can’t even lie about it anymore.”
“Why would—ah. Composure.”
He glanced over at me with a wry little twist of his lips. “You catch on quick.”
I smirked faintly and caught the glint in his eyes, and I kind of got stuck there. Even in the darkness, even crippled with sorrow, Shan was so dangerously attractive that it almost hurt to look at him.
He had the same gunmetal-gray eyes Finn had, only Shan’s were reflective of decades of living.
I cleared my throat and put out my smoke. It was too easy to get stuck. “You should stay here for a while. The only one who uses the guest room is Nessa, and once Luna’s had her baby, I’m pretty sure I’ll be forgotten.”
Shan hummed and refilled his glass. “I haven’t spoken to the twins in a while. How’s Nessa doing?”
“She’s okay.” But it had become difficult to see them as just Finn and Patrick’s baby cousins. Nessa and Alec were teenagers now, and I remembered that age. I remembered wanting to know everything there was to know about the syndicate. I remembered being in a hurry to grow up. The twins were no different, and they liked to ask me questions because we were close enough. I’d been their driver, their personal security, and their freaking nanny more than once over the years.
They split their time between Philly and Chicago, though Chicago got them a little more since they went to school there. But I’d grown fond of Nessa’s visits. Sometimes she flew out just for the weekend to hang out. Alec was Finn’s personal Band-Aid instead.
“She misses Patrick a lot,” I had to add. Because the bond Alec shared with Finn, Nessa had once shared with Patrick. “But, man, she’s inquisitive. Almost worse than her brother.”
Shan took a swallow of his drink and didn’t respond. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned Nessa missing Patrick. Fuck.
Shannon’s world needed to be small right now, I believed. Our family was huge, and we had associates and affiliates to keep track of too. But it was too much for him. Too many impressions. Emilia had mentioned dinner—Shan had had to get out of a family dinner early before I’d left for my vacation. Too many had been invited.
“I mean it, Shan. You should stay here for a while.”
He stared down into his glass and mulled it over. Probably itching to say no, but… “I’m a grown man, Kellan. I don’t need a babysitter.”
On that note, I was looking forward to Max’s report.
“Is that what you would tell clients?” I asked. “Or maybe their guardians? That they should man up after going through something traumatic?”
I couldn’t imagine being in Shan’s brain, because he had to live with the professional side of himself too. And he’d worked as a psychologist for, what, fifteen years? Give or take. More than that, he’d worked with children in foster care, so he must’ve witnessed or heard of countless distressing living situations. Which meant he was trained in how to cope with the aftermath.
“Don’t use my job against me,” he muttered.
“I’ll use anything I can think of against you,” I retorted. “I’m hardly known for fighting fair.”
He grumbled something into his glass before he emptied it.
Time to stow away the vodka. He’d gotten his two drinks.
“Do you want to be alone?” I asked as I closed the liquor cabinet again.
“I already told you I don’t.” He got defensive with me.
“Then it’s settled.” I returned to the couch and got comfortable. “I’m heading out to Finn and Emilia’s in the morning for breakfast. You should come.”