“Do you think Perry will get in trouble?” If he’s arrested, I don’t know what I’ll do.
Finn slowly shakes his head. “He was defending himself. Seamus McTiernan was a known threat. Perry had to do what he could to fight for his life. The man brought a gun to a fist fight. He had the advantage from the start. Your husband did what he had to do.”
I nod, my gaze stuck on the bathroom door. Police are in there too, and God knows what they’re seeing, or what they’re saying. Is Seamus coherent enough to tell them what happened? Is he making up lies to make Perry look like the bad guy?
Such a terrifying night, and I’m worried over everything that happened, yet I still can’t believe what Perry said to me—but then again, I can. We’ve grown so close in only a few months, and I’m still in awe of the fact that he loves me.
I love him too. So much. No other man understands me like my husband. He believes in me, and I believe in him too.
Our marriage may have started out a lie, but it’s turned into something real and beautiful.
“Hey.” Grant approaches, his stride brisk. “Get her out of here. They’re about to escort Seamus out of the bathroom.”
“Is he able to walk on his own?” I ask, not out of concern for Seamus, but for my husband.
The worse off Seamus is, the worse the police might be questioning Perry.
“Barely,” Grant admits. “They’re putting him on a stretcher. The paramedics are taking him to a hospital to have him thoroughly checked out. He might be admitted for the evening so they can keep watch on him, but the moment he’s deemed healthy enough to be discharged, they’re arresting him. He’ll be under police watch while in the hospital.”
Thank God. He deserves to be arrested and thrown in jail for what he’s done. “Okay.” I nod. “What they really need to do is send him back to Ireland.”
“Seamus might have to do time here first. Then they’ll send him back. Or maybe they’ll deport him and wash their hands of him. I don’t know,” Grant says, his voice serious. “He would’ve taken you, you know. His plan was to eliminate everyone who kept him from you. Your husband and our father were blocking his way.”
A shudder moves through me and I rest a hand over my stomach almost protectively. “I think he’s mentally ill. I hope he gets help.”
I mean what I say. I want him to heal—far, far away, in Ireland. Our relationship wasn’t even that meaningful. Based on a crush that turned into a quick affair before I found out what he did to me. He still won’t take responsibility for that. He ruined everything.
I truly believe Seamus McTiernan just wants what he can’t have.
“Hey.” I turn to find my husband standing behind me and I go to him, everything inside of me going calm when he wraps his arms around me and holds me close. “Come with me. I don’t want McAsshole to see your pretty face.”
Perry pulls me into an empty conference room, the door quietly closing, shrouding us in darkness. He reaches for me once more and I go to him, clinging tightly, never wanting to let him go.
“What did the police say?” I ask, afraid of his answer.
“They just questioned me about what happened and I told them the truth. The gun was right there, lying on the floor. They bagged it for evidence.”
A shiver moves through me at the mention of a gun. “What if he would’ve shot you?”
“Oh trust me, wife. I thought about that. I decided to take the risk anyway.” I glance up at him, barely able to see his handsome features because of the dark room, but I can still make out his eyes. And how they’re gleaming at me. “You took a risk too, that day you hurled soup in his face. It paid off. So did mine.”
“I love you, Perry.” I do. So much. How lucky am I to have this man in my life? Wanting to be with me, take care of me, protect me.
“I love you, Charlotte.” He kisses me, his warm lips and seeking tongue making me melt. “You’re the most important thing in my life. You and our baby.”
He rests his hand on my stomach, caressing me there and I can’t help it.
I start to cry yet again.
“Aw, wife. Not the tears.” He sounds in complete misery and I laugh.
While still crying.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, shaking my head. God, I’m a blubbering mess. “I can’t help it. My hormones are out of whack.”
“That’s okay, baby.” He rubs his hand up and down my back in comfort. “I got you.”
I know he does.