“Don’t say anything,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing over the tape. “I’m gonna kiss you, Ava. No lies.”
Everywhere I have life pulses, the drumming crescendos.
“No lies. Just one last kiss.” Thoughtfully, he peels the tape away from my mouth. A fresh wave of tears come to fruition in my eyes. The man I once detested with every fiber of my being becomes a mirage again.
The second he denudes the last strip of tape from my mouth, I open up, “Kier?”
His lips seize my mouth in a kiss that zings, vibrating straight through my heart.
I quickly turn away, appealing to him. “Kieran, I’m here to ki—”
“Shhhh!” Kieran’s hand clasps over my mouth. “Not another word. I said, ‘A kiss before dying.’ Rather romantic, don’t you think after all theshiteyou put me through these last few months. You running back to your husband.”
I bite down on his palm. Kieran seethes through his teeth. “Owe, fine! Okay! Why?”
“You never searched me and Ad—”
His hand clamps down again. I attempt to knead my lips apart. “No! I trusted you, Ava. Now, give me your best excuse.”
“Excuse?” I reply in icy indignation.
“Ava, you’re not in the position to—”
“Thatassholemurderedourdaughter! I’m here . . .” I pause, dark promise filling my gaze as I square my shoulders. “I’m here to kill him.”
“What?” Kieran’s jaw twitches in confusion.
The hot sting of tragedy wells in my throat. I can hardly get the words out, “Hekilledher. He has to pay.”
In anguish, I await his response.Please believe me, Kier,I silently beg while he continues to murmur, “What?” Blood fades from Kieran’s stark, chiseled features. The last hint of apathy vanishes from his face.
“He left her—” My voice breaks. I take a breath, trying to find the strength. “It was horrific.Mybebésuffered, and he has to p-ay.” Sobs roll up through me, becoming a howl. The pain I’ve buried for so long becomes a physical thing clawing its way out of me.
“What? Oh, Ava.” Fresh grief washes over Kieran. All the emotions that should’ve emerged in my ex-husband’s eyes earlier darken Kieran’s gray eyes. Suddenly, Kieran’s sitting on his haunches with his biceps wrapped around my waist. Flinging myself around Kieran, I bury my face into the collar of his blazer. Droves of my hot, venomous tears seep into his neck. I sob, “He murdered my little girl.”
“Ava, no crying now.” Framing my face in his hands, Kieran places his lips on my forehead. “Y’know, killing the lad won’t bring her back.”
Moved by his tender touch, I nod between sobs.
“But you’ll feel better in the moment. For the split second that you kill him, or however long it takes you to murder him . . .” Kieran catches my gaze, and I comprehend the words he’s too kind to say. He’s offering me the opportunity to torture Adnan.
“I don’t have the stomach for that.”
Resolute, he wraps me in his tailored suit jacket. Kieran promises, “You’ve me.”
“Ihave to.” My tiny voice dashes like glass against the ground. Inhaling the oaky cologne enveloping me, I stop Kieran while he tenderly buttons me up. The jacket falls to just below my hips, and I hastily fasten the others. I look him in the eye. “That’s why I came. I had to do this my way.”
Silent, Kieran nods. Seconds later, he gives a sharp whistle. Wobbly footsteps follow the sound of glass crashing. Adnan comes stumbling into the room, hands tied behind him, a boot kicking him in the ass every other step.
“Kneel.” Kieran clips the order. A boot jams Adnan’s knee, and he sinks to the ground, curling into the fetal position. I almost pitch my stomach, viewing his bloodied hands, two fingernails missing. Had they tortured him, or had he lost them while trying to claw his way out of the bedroom?
Kieran squeezes me tightly before letting go. He’s removing his handgun from the back of his pants and clicking his tongue again. The whole thing reminds me of how he addresses his horse. They have their own language. A henchman hands over a silencer, and Kieran makes quick work of placing it on his gun.
“Adnan, if I were you, I’d kiss Ava’s shoes.” Kieran catches Adnan’s throat in his hand. “She’s no interest in a mess. I’d prefer giving you a blood transfusion, a time or two, makes the death last longer.”
In a trance, I watch Kieran’s interaction with Adnan. It gives new meaning to alion toying with a mouse.Instinctively, I’m aware that the Kieran I detested, at first sight, was an angel in comparison to the militant savagely clutching Adnan’s throat. Kieran lifts him about the neck only to slam him into the marble full force.
Kieran touches a benevolent palm to my cheek. A natural, calm silence surpasses all the wrought emotion between us. It’s as if he’s again reminding me that he’s more than capable of carrying out my orders. After a few beats, Kieran holds out the handgun. Before I can take it, he tucks it close to his stony abdomen.