Chapter Three
CIARA
The fluorescent lights of the hospital room make everything feel even more surreal as I sit on the edge of the bed while the doctor shines a light into my eyes.
He asks me a dozen questions I barely hear.
My attention is too focused on Mila, who lies in the bed next to mine, pale and silent, staring off into the distance as the monitors behind her beep in an almost soothing rhythm.
She's still in shock, and I don’t blame her. Her whole world fell apart tonight, and it’s never going to be the same.
“She’s physically fine,” the doctor says quietly to Ronan, who stands beside my bed, his face an expressionless mask. “Both of them are. But we’ll run some blood work, just to be safe.”
My stomach churns at the thought of more tests.
Right now, I want nothing more than to go home and crawl into bed and try to sleep off this nightmare. But the adrenaline is still pumping through my veins, and it’ll likely be a while yet until it wears off.
I wrap my arms tightly around myself, as if I can keep myself from cracking open if I just hold on tight enough. I’ve been holding it together all night, pretending I’m fine so Mila can have the space to fall apart. But the truth is, I feel like I want to throw up or cry, or both.
Ronan moves to sit in the chair beside my bed, his arms crossed and his jaw tight. He hasn’t said a word since we got here other than to speak to the doctor, but his silence speaks for itself.
I steal a glance at him.
“Ronan—”
“Don’t even start, Ciara.”
“I’m just trying to explain—”
He shakes his head. “I can’t right now. You don’t get it.”
I exhale as I fight the urge to throw up again.
We sit in tense silence for several minutes, and anger radiates off him in waves.
I understand why he’s furious, but I only did what had to be done.
Besides, he puts himself in danger every single day, and I never question it. But when the roles are reversed, suddenly I’m supposed to sit on the sidelines and be kept in a box like I’m made of glass?
Mila was in danger because of me, and I couldn’t just sit there and wait while something happened to her. I had to do something. He needs to understand this.
But as much as I want to explain it to him, I can’t deal with this cold, condescending silence a second longer.
“I need you to go home.” I’m exhausted and emotionally drained, and having Ronan brood beside me isn’t helping.
Ronan lifts his head to look at me. “What?”
“I asked you to go. I’ll call you when we’re discharged.”
His eyes narrow. “Are you seriously kicking me out right now?”
“You’re angry, and I get it. But sitting here glowering at me isn’t helping anyone, least of all Mila.” I sneak a glance at her in the next bed.
She hasn’t moved or said a word since the car, no doubt lost in her own grief.
“She needs peace as well as quiet. We both do.”
Ronan’s scowl deepens, but after a beat, he gets to his feet and walks to the door without another word.
I can’t deny his silence stings more than I want it to.
When the door clicks shut behind him, Mila finally breaks, and the sob that escapes her lips is raw, pulled from somewhere deep inside her.
I climb into her bed without hesitation, pulling her into my arms, and she curls into me.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” I stroke her hair. “You’re safe now.”
I’m not sure which one of us I’m trying to convince.
Mila cries quietly to herself, and I hold her, staring at the wall as my tired mind drifts to my father.
I know all too well the grief she is being consumed with right now. I felt that very same ache in my chest ever since he died, and it’s never quite faded.
Except, the grief has morphed into something else. All the memories I used to cherish are now tainted by what I learned about him. He wasn’t the man I thought he was, and yet…I still miss him.
What does that say about me?
When the doctor finally returns a couple of hours later, he tells me that all of our tests have come back normal.
“You’re both free to go. But I recommend rest and perhaps talking to a professional. I’d be happy to recommend someone for you.”
“That’s very kind, thank you.” I reach for my phone to text Ronan.
We’re allowed to leave
The door to our room opens barely a second after I hit send.
He’s been waiting just outside the whole damn time.
Ronan strides into the room without looking at me and goes straight to Mila, helping her climb off the bed and guiding her gently out of the room.
I follow silently behind them as we leave the hospital and head out into the parking lot where Ronan’s SUV is parked.
The ride back to the Sullivan estate is quiet.
Mila stares out the window again, and Ronan and I sit in silence once more.
But I know the rest of the fight is coming. There’s no way Ronan is going to let me get off this easily.
Mila doesn’t even protest when I lead her inside the house and take her upstairs to one of the guest rooms. Even when I go and grab a pair of pajamas from my room and help her change, she keeps her eyes downcast, her cheeks damp with tears.
She’s always been such an unstoppable force of nature that it’s a little unnerving to see her so vulnerable and broken.
My throat thickens with tears as I climb into the bed beside her and stroke her hair until her breathing turns heavy and she’s finally asleep.
When I finally make it back to my room, Ronan is waiting for me, sitting on the edge of the bed. His arms are folded over his chest, and his face is completely unreadable.
I close the door.
“You need to take care of yourself too. You’ve been running on fumes for hours.” His voice is rough but gentler than before, which I take as a good sign.
“Surprised you even care,” I mutter without thinking.
His jaw tightens, and before I can even blink, he’s on his feet and crossing over to me.
His eyes burn into mine as he backs me into the wall. “You really think I don’t care? You think I was angry because I didn’t care? I was fucking terrified, Ciara. I was terrified that I was going to lose you.”
My breath catches at the intensity in his eyes, his voice. It’s not anger, but pain.
He really does care.
“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.” His forehead drops to mine as he inhales deeply. “You don’t get to scare me like that ever again, do you understand?”
It’s all I can do to nod before I sink my fingers into his shirt and pull him close.
At the first taste of his mouth, my body melts, and I eagerly part my lips.
As Ronan strokes his tongue against mine, I arch against his touch, pressing my aching nipples against his chest as he claims my mouth in a desperate kiss.
“Ciara,” he groans against my lips.
“I need you.”
He presses his hips against me, letting me feel the hard outline of his cock against my stomach. “Are you sure?”
I let out a whimper, which has Ronan chuckling darkly.
“So damn needy.”
Lifting me by the backs of my thighs, Ronan carries me over to the bed while his lips continue to explore my mouth, my jaw, my neck.
Every touch sends a bolt of pleasure through my body, leaving me gasping for air as he settles himself between my thighs.
Even fully clothed, just having his weight on top of me is enough to get my pulse racing and my core so damp with need that I almost start sobbing.
“Please…”
Ronan breaks the kiss to peer down at me with his beautiful, dark eyes.
For a moment, we just stare at each other, our breathing ragged and our chests heaving. And then he’s undressing me, wasting no time peeling off my clothes and leaving me completely bare for him on the bed.
“How is it that I always end up naked, and you’re fully clothed?” I pout as I push myself up on my elbows and glare at him as he stands at the end of the bed.
Ronan smirks. “I guess I just have more self-control.”
“Oh, really?”
I slowly spread my thighs apart, revealing my glistening and swollen pussy to him.
Ronan’s eyes darken as he takes in the sight of me, and I bite my lower lip as I watch him reach down to squeeze his erection.
“I thought you had self-control?” I tease.
“Keep running your mouth like that, Tine Bheag, and you won’t get my cock.”
“What if I don’t want your cock?”
Ronan’s eyes flash as he palms his length through his pants. “Are you sure about that? Because your dripping pussy says otherwise.”
I clench at his words, knowing full well that I won’t be satisfied until he’s buried deep inside me.
I sigh as I lie back on the bed. “I need your tongue first. I want you to taste how bad I want you.”
Ronan’s answering groan has my back arching off the bed as my clit throbs.
My eyes flutter closed as my hands move to cup my breasts, rubbing my thumbs back and forth over my nipples as my hips start to move.
“Ciara…”
I moan as I spread my legs wider, a rush of wetness dripping onto the bed as I continue to play with my nipples.
But I let out a cry as Ronan grips my thighs, pulling me to the edge of the bed before sinking to his knees in front of me.
At the first lick of his tongue along my pussy, my entire body bows off the bed, and I sink my fingers into his thick hair to hold him in place.
“Yes!”
He flicks his tongue over my clit. “Fuck. You taste so sweet, baby.”
My eyes roll back as Ronan continues devouring me with long, lazy licks of his tongue. His calloused fingers stroke my thighs, which only adds to the pleasure coursing through my body until I’m panting and gasping with the need to come.
I grind my hips against his mouth. “More.”
Ronan gives me what I need, turning his attention to my clit as he moves one hand between my thighs to sink two fingers inside me.
I cry out as I clench around him, my thighs starting to tremble as my orgasm builds.
“Look at me,” Ronan orders.
I glance down at him and whimper at the look in his eyes.
I’m not sure I will ever get tired of the sight of Ronan Sullivan with his face buried in my pussy, watching as his mouth licks and sucks at my clit as his fingers curl to graze my most sensitive spot.
His dark eyes gleam. “Like what you see?”