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“Forget it,” I say, turning my attention back to Kian. “We need a doctor. Right fucking now.”

“Get him on the table,” Quinn orders the men. “And for God’s sake, do it carefully!”

I stand back and let Quinn take charge of the situation. My mind is whirling with new information.

Not only is the situation with the Kinahans worse than I thought…

But Brody fucking Murtagh is alive?

I slump to a seat up against the wall and try to breathe.

Home is not what I expected it to be.

* * *

When the clan doctor walks through the door, I’m almost relieved to recognize his face. Calm, dependable, and just a little bit worn, Dr. Doyle is heading straight for Kian when he notices me.

He does a double take as he processes. “Cillian?”

“In the flesh,” I mutter.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

“Can we do this shit after my leg is sorted?” Kian yells from the table.

Doyle jumps into action and moves forward to the table. It doesn’t take long for him to pronounce his verdict.

“The leg’s broken,” he confirms. “But don’t worry, I can set it. You’ll take a couple of months to heal.”

“Months?” Kian growls.

“It’s a bad break. I’m no magician, son.”

I move around the table, taking in the chaos surrounding my brother. There’s a thick sheen of sweat layering his face and his hands tremble every now and again.

But he’s strong. He can handle the pain.

“Cillian?”

I turn to the man standing beside me. He’s tall, almost as tall as I am. His dark eyes are bright and his features have evolved, but they’re still familiar.

“Jesus, is that you, Rory?”

He smiles. “Aye, mate. It’s been a long time.”

I pull him towards me and he claps my back hard. Seeing him brings back several old memories.

Memories of a time when I’d been poised to enter the clan in an official capacity.

Before Saoirse. Before Brody. Before Sean left.

Back when I wasn’t going to be don, but rather, the don’s brother.

And in so many ways, that was better.

In those days, Rory, Collin, and I had been practically inseparable. It’s a trip to see him now. He’s a man, bearded and wary.

“Fucking hell,” I breathe as I release him.


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