I was an artist now. A mom. I wasn’t some dopey kid who had her head in the clouds, her hands covered in paint—although they still were most of the time—and her will easily molded to what others wanted.
With the power of time, a reputation that had been hard-won, and after coming to terms with being a single mom, I was still mind blown by that connection.
I created art in many mediums, had worked in studios around the world, picking up techniques and teaching them, my mind was a hive of creativity... but no matter what I did, I couldn’t replicate that sensation.
It was like a lightning bolt between the eyes. It was so strong, it should have killed me, but it didn’t. It almost zapped my heart, but hearts were a little supernatural in their ability to regenerate themselves—over time.
Or so I’d thought.
Watching over the man I’d grown to hate, a hate that would always be founded with a seed of love, was proof of that.
I’d thought that was it for me. I was one and done. Guys were a pain in the ass that I had no time for. The only dude I wanted around was my kid. He took up every second of my non-working time, every ounce of my energy. But it took one look at Declan for me to know it was all bullshit. Lies I told myself to make it easier to live without the love of my life.
That was why it was a punch in the gut for him to have almost died.
My hands itched with the need to draw him, to take in the majesty of his face. A hard jaw, a stubborn firm slash for a mouth, eyes that were usually narrowed with distrust. He had a dark face, one built with features that were perfect for his choice of career. Somehow, though it was hardened, it was utterly perfect to me.
So wonderfully complex to draw.
There was a play of light and shadow on his brow, furrowed lines between them too. Either side of his eyes, there were squint lines, making him so much more interesting than he’d been as a boy.
Pitch black stubble made him look even tougher, and while his hair was a tousled mess and should have made him look less hardcore, it didn’t. So much so, I wanted him to open his eyes because that would reveal the only softness to his nature. A softness I’d lost any and all rights to access a long time ago—his soul.
Mournfully, I blew out a breath, then jerked when the door opened and my gaze clashed with Brennan’s.
I liked Brennan, but unfortunately when I looked at him, we didn’t have the same sparks.
I wished we did.
I wished I could be with him.
He was insane, like all the O’Donnelly sons—you couldn’t not be when spawned from Aidan Sr.’s seed—but he was the most grounded, I thought.
When I looked at him, I felt calm, felt like my brain wasn’t whirring with a mixture of panic.
But I didn’t want to paint him, and that was indicative of my feelings for him. Or the lack of them, I guessed.
So I smiled at him weakly as he rasped, “What are you doing here?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
His brow furrowed. “Hmm.” That was all he said, almost making me snort.
Brennan was a man of few words, that was for damn sure.
I pressed my head to the side of the armchair, just resting it for a second.
I wanted, badly, to walk away. I knew when he woke up again, he’d discover the truth and call me chickenshit, but I didn’t want to be there when he learned he was a father.
Maybe I should be the one to tell him, but I didn’t think I could.
I’d spent so long running, so many years hiding, that I just couldn’t do it.
Brennan shook his head at me like he knew what I was thinking. “You need to get out of here, Aela.”
I gulped. “I know I do.”
“The doctors say they’re drawing him out of the coma. When he wakes up, we’ll be telling him the truth. You need to bring the kid down here.”
“You mean your nephew?” I snapped, irritated by his dismissal of my pride and joy as just a ‘kid.’
Brennan wafted a hand. “You know what I mean.”
I gritted my teeth. “He’s the best O’Donnelly out there,” I told him.
“Course he is. He hasn’t been tainted by us yet,” Brennan rumbled, and his words had me flinching inside.
Because they were true.
And in his eyes, I knew he was being candid and earnest, and it killed me.
For a second, my heart pounded, and the sensation of being trapped was so all-consuming that I wasn’t sure what to do.
I’d done the right thing. I’d helped someone in need, but I should have stayed out of it, and now my boy was going to pay the price for that.
Suddenly feeling like I had a melon lodged in my throat, I stared at him and I saw sympathy etched in his features.
Sympathy.
I closed my eyes, clenching them tightly because I couldn’t cope with that look.
“Don’t even think about running,” he warned me, but it wasn’t really a warning, it was more of a gentle reminder.
My mouth tightened. “You think I don’t know the drill?”
“You forgot it once upon a time,” he rasped, making me flinch.
“Because I had sense.”
“No, you’d have had sense to stay gone,” he told me, and again, his honesty hit me square in the gut. “You always were good people though, Aela. I’ll have your back if ever the time comes where you need it.”
I gaped at him, unable to believe he handed me that offer.
Everyone knew it was the O’Donnellys against the world. Against the universe. And truth was, they needed to be so tight-knit. They were the head of the Five Points, the one and only Irish Mob family in the tristate area because, long ago, Aidan O’Donnelly Sr. had taken over every other piece of the puzzle and consolidated it, establishing himself as king of the hill a long time before I was born.
As a result, they were the most powerful family on the East Coast. The billionaires and one-percenters thought they were powerful, but that was nothing compared to the clout the O’Donnellys had.
I’d been born revering them like they were the second coming of Jesus though.
The O’Donnellys, for all they were headed by a psychopath, were good leaders. Everyone respected them, loved them even. It was rare to get a traitor in the midst, and not only because Aidan would cut you like a motherfucker either, but because they earned it.
They treated the commoners like they treated the lieutenants—sure, the pay was less, but the respect wasn’t. And for people who did the running, who were the most likely to be tossed in jail or prison for the crap they did for the family, respect meant everything.
Feeling tired, I got to my feet because I didn’t want to be dealing with any of this now. I just... I didn’t even know what I was doing here.
I should have been running far and wide across the Atlantic, but there was no stone I knew the family would leave unturned now that I was in the picture.
Now that Seamus was in the picture.
My jaw clenched and I started to walk toward the door, toward Brennan.
When his hand reached out to grab my arm, and he turned me to face him, I looked up at him and muttered, “I’ll probably need your help in the upcoming weeks. You might regret offering me the olive branch.”
He shrugged. “You think I’m frightened of Dec, laoch?” His lips twitched, and he revealed the slightest of smiles that, along with his Gaelic endearment, would melt any woman’s heart.