Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Harper
I pad through the wide, stone corridor, the plush rug soft beneath my feet. The Quinn castle is nothing like what I expected. It’s grand and imposing from the outside, but from the inside it’s a true home.
From the family pictures to the warmth of the décor, it’s clear these boys were raised in an environment of love and warmth—which seems at odds with them being the crime family of Northern Dublin.
But after working with the women downstairs, I see it more clearly. The Quinn brothers are truly committed to being the lesser of the evils of the land. If they weren’t here, doing what they do, the McGuires or someone like them would fill the vacuum and things would be so much worse.
And I judged him for it.
I press a hand against the tension in my chest. Yeah, I judged him, yelled at him, and insulted him. And still, he and his family welcomed me into their home, protected me, and are helping me with my quest to take down an organization that will no doubt put them in a difficult position. But still they’re helping me.
I stop outside the door to Bryan’s room and raise my fist to knock. Do I knock? I’m staying here, with him. I know he’s finished with his meeting downstairs, but I don’t even know if he’s in there.
Deciding not to look at that too closely, I grip the door handle and let myself in. The room is just as impressive as it was the first time I saw it.
The stone walls and thick tapestry drapes are like something out of Medieval stories. The fire in the hearth is crackling, giving off a warm glow and a subtle pop and sizzle in the background. And then there’s Bryan…
He’s sitting on the bed, his legs stretched out long, his shoulders hunched like he’s carrying the weight of the entire world on his shoulders.
And he's crying.
Not loudly. Not brokenly. But silently—grief etched into every hard line of his beautiful face.
My chest tightens.
I’ve seen him fight and kill. I’ve seen the storm and the stillness that lives within him. But this is a side of him I wasn’t prepared to see… and it undoes me.
For all my need for control and justice and fighting the fight, I missed the most important part of Bryan—the man behind the muscles.
He doesn’t look up. Doesn’t move. Just stares at a piece of paper in his hands.
I hover by the edge of the rug, torn between the instinct to step back and worrying that maybe I shouldn’t disturb his sorrow.
But I can’t leave him suffering.
He doesn’t acknowledge me until I crawl up the bed and settle in beside him. I snake my arm across his waist and hug him, laying my cheek on his shoulder. “What do you need?”
At first, he doesn’t respond, so I just hold him.
Then after a couple of minutes, a long breath shudders out of him. He pulls me closer and presses his cheek against my forehead.
“This is all I need,” he rasps, voice wrecked and raw. “Sorry about that.”
I pat a soft hand over his chiseled abs. “You don’t have to apologize, and you don’t have to explain.”
“Maybe not, but I’d like to.”
We lay there quietly for a few more minutes before he starts. “In the two weeks you didn’t want to see me… well, I wasn’t in a good place. Tag told me to figure out what’s weighing me down, what makes me so fucking angry all the time. He sent me to stay in his condo downtown.”
By the look on his face when I asked him to leave and not contact me, I knew I’d hurt him. At the time, I needed space and time to think.
My heart aches that I’m partly responsible for breaking this man down to tears.
“A lot of my pain revolved around Yasmine and being angry at myself for letting you get under my skin. It got me thinking about her parents and how much I missed them, so I went to visit them.”
Oh, the poor man. “How did it go?”
“Better than I hoped for. It actually made me so sad that I dropped out of their lives so abruptly. Riya and Ashwin are amazing people.”
“I’m sure they understood why it was hard to be around them.”
He pats my arm and shifts, sitting me up enough to hand me the paper in his hand. “Riya gave me a letter from Yas. A final farewell, it seems.”
He holds it out, but I don’t take it. “Bryan, no. That’s your letter.”
“It is, but there’s a bit at the end… a part she wrote for you.”
My mind stalls out on that one. For me?
I sit up and cross my legs, facing him. He holds out the letter again and I take it with careful hands, unfolding the soft, creased pages.
The handwriting is beautiful. Fluid. Emotional.
I read every word slowly, my throat tightening with each sentence. Her love for him pours through the page—strong and unwavering. She speaks to him and it’s obvious how well she knew him.
And then, her urging to move on…
To love again.
And at the end—there it is. A message for me. A message from the woman who held his heart first.
Tell her I wish her strength and patience dealing with you, and nothing but happiness for a long life together.
And maybe, if she’s up to it, take her to meet my parents.
When I finish reading that last part a second time, I fold it back up and hand it to him. “It’s a beautiful letter, Bryan. She was obviously a truly special woman.”
“She was.”
When he accepts the letter, I keep hold of his hand and thread our fingers together. “Thank you for letting me read it.”
He nods. After a long moment, he sighs and meets my gaze. “When you looked at me in that parking lot and said I was nothing more than a thug and a killer, I realized you had pieced my heart back together enough for it to be ripped apart again.”
He doesn’t say that cruelly, but his words pierce my heart all the same. “I’m sorry. I was shocked and felt like I’d misjudged everything we did together. I also felt very responsible for getting Siobhan killed.”
He scoffs. “I told ye, she brought it on herself.”
“Right, but I didn’t know the details.” I stare at our joined hands. “I met with Tag and asked him about Siobhan. About your father. And about what the hunt for her meant to your family.”
He exhales hard. “Aye, I heard ye asked to see him. I nearly lost my fucking mind. I thought ye were asking him to help you disappear. To leave me.”
“I wasn’t,” I say, turning to him fully. “I needed more information.”
“So why not ask me? I’ve never once lied to ye. Why the fuck couldn’t ye come to me?”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you, but I see that I have. I’m sorry about that. I promise, from now on, if I have a problem with you or need more information, I’ll come to you.”
I cup his cheek with my palm, and he presses deeper into my touch. He still seems so sad, his pain so close to the surface.
“May I ask a question now?”
He scoffs, laughing despite himself. “Aye, of course.”
“Why did you say the last part of Yasmine’s letter is for me? I mean… we definitely click but we’ve known each other less than a month. She’s talking about loving again and moving on. Is that where we are?”
He meets my gaze and though his eyes are still rimmed with red, they are clearer now. Steadier. “I don’t know where we are. All I can tell ye for sure is that my heart is beating again. Yer the first thought that hits me when I wake and the last thought before I sleep.”
He lifts our joined hands to his lips and nips my knuckles. “When ye turned away from me, it hurt more than I thought possible. Like ye said, we hadn’t known each other long. But ye shut me out and I felt it right to my soul.”
I close my eyes and he kisses the sting of where he bit me. “I didn’t say that to make ye feel bad. Don’t be sorry. Just don’t push me away again. I like ye here and I’d like to see where this takes us without people trying to kill us at every turn.”
I bark a laugh. “That would be such a novel change in pace, wouldn’t it?”
“Aye, it would.” His arms come around me again, and this time, he pulls me onto his lap. Straddling his hips, he holds me tight. Our foreheads press together, our breath mingles, and I swear something shifts between us.
This might be happening fast, but we’re both adrenaline junkies. Slow and steady isn’t our go-to.
Still, it’s real. We both feel that.
And yeah, he’s not the only one who would like to see where it goes.
Bryan’s breath is warm against my skin, his arms wrapped around me as if I tether him to this world. His forehead rests against mine, and for a long moment, we just breathe together.
In and out. In and out.
The fire in the hearth pops softly, casting gold and amber shadows across his face, and I reach up to cradle his jaw. His scruff is rough beneath my fingertips, but his eyes… his eyes are soft. Open. Devastating.
I lean forward and press a kiss to his mouth. It’s been weeks since we touched like this and I’m half afraid I imagined the electricity we share.
I prove myself wrong on that the moment our lips touch. He groans as he kisses me back. No hesitation. No frenzy. Just a slow, aching hunger.
He shifts to lay down, and I melt into him, every inch of my body drawn to the steady, grounding pull of his.
He rolls to press me into the mattress and kisses me like I’m precious. Like I’m his . Like he’s let go of the anger that’s been driving him and is welcoming something new into his heart.
Maybe it’s love—or maybe that’s where it’s headed.
It’s a consuming kind of passion that steals my breath and makes my eyes burn with something dangerously close to love. But honestly, I’m okay with not putting a name on it and letting things play out.
Bryan is definitely worth it.
His hand slides up my spine, strong fingers sinking into my hair, holding me to him as our kiss deepens. My body hums as warmth floods through me.
Stretched out beside me, one hand finds the curve of my waist, while the other cradles my face. “Can we make tonight R-rated instead of PG? Are ye up for it?”
I smile and run my hand over the steel length trapped behind the fabric of his sweatpants. “You seem up for it.”
“Och, trouble, you have no idea.”
I run my fingers through his silky black hair and nip his bottom lip. “R-rated would be nice. X-rated would be even better.”
Something flickers in his eyes, and he dips his head to kiss me again. “You’ve kept me out in the cold for two weeks. Be careful about unleashing the beast.”
Guilt threatens to take me, but I push it down. I said and did what was in my heart in that moment. I’ve apologized and now is my chance to make up for it.
“I’m not afraid of the beast. Let him out to play.”