Chapter 28 Lyra
LYRA
Callum looks at her. "Maybe you can help her?" he says, nodding in my direction. "I want to see Declan real quick."
She nods. "Sure."
Callum looks at me one last time. "Take care of yourself, Lyra Cassidy," he says, and walks out.
The red-haired woman steps in, letting the door close behind her. She leans against the doorframe casually, one foot crossed over the other. Her hair is fiery, vibrant, even in the low light. And I already know who she is.
Keira Killaney.
Declan's twin.
In all the time I've spent with Declan, she's the one he mentions most. Not his parents. Not even Callum. Just her. They have a special bond, I suppose you would with your twin.
And unlike Callum's cold assessment, hers feels warmer, more curious.
"So you're the one," she says, still leaning against the doorframe, looking at me.
"Apparently," I say, my voice rough.
As I glance at her, I can't help but look her over.
Where I feel haunted and hollow, she radiates life.
Her jeans are high-waisted, her blouse crisp, and her skin flawless.
No dark circles under her eyes, no trauma clinging to her like fog.
She's got that kind of beauty that doesn't try too hard because it doesn't have to.
She looks like the kind of woman who wins and carries a natural confidence I envy. She's also taller than I expected.
"You saved his life," she says, not a question, but rather a statement.
I shrug, trying to play it down. "I did what anyone would do."
She raises an eyebrow. "Girl, that's bullshit." She laughs. "What you did? No. That's not just 'anyone.' He would've died without you. So, thank you."
The sincerity in her tone knocks the wind out of me.
I'm not sure what to say to that. I look down at my hands, still faintly stained with dried blood around the cuticle beds. I couldn't let him die. Not after everything. Not him. Not when I had the skills to save him. Not when his blood was literally on my hands.
"You're welcome," I say softly.
She steps farther into the room, looking more curious than suspicious now.
"Can I be up front with you?" she asks.
"Sure, everyone else has been," I say.
She smiles. "Callum's harmless. Most of the time. No, I mean, what's your story?"
"Like with the Albanians?"
"No," Keira shakes her head. "I don't want you to relive that shit. I mean with you now. Here. With my brother?"
I exhale, running a hand over the inside of my arm where the IV left a dull ache. "I don't. I don't know."
She nods, stepping further into the room. "Do you care for him? Is this just a fling? Need money? What?"
"Oh," I say, clearing my throat.
"Look, I'm not going to chastise you if you need some sex. Hell, I tell my best friend that all the time, though she wound up with a baby so maybe don't take my advice if you're not ready," she says, laughing.
That's not something I need to worry about.
"But I know what your story is on paper. I want to know what's your story up here," she says, pointing to her head.
"Well, I…." I pause. "Honestly. I like your brother. I have strong feelings for him, but I won't lie. I also need money, which is why I decided to work for him. As for this being just a fling, I guess you'd have to ask him."
"Fair enough," Keira says.
"But I did NOT have anything to do with what happened, at least I don't think so."
"That's what he claims," she says, arms folded now. "But you know how it looks, right? Albanian past, mystery nurse, sudden attack on my brother right after he suddenly decides to take out the head of the Albanian family around here, so..."
Oh, I wasn't sure she knew about that. I wasn't sure who Declan told.
"Yes, but—"
"It's done. It's fine. Just, from girl to girl, if you're not in it because you care for him, then get the fuck out, you know?
Because whether all this was because of you or not, if my brother's life is on the line, and I can't make it go away, then I need to be damn sure it's for a good reason," she says and sits down on the edge of the bed.
"Now, you saved him, so obviously there's something here.
Romeo and Juliet type love, who knows? But it's something.
And he's adamant about you, so, just be cool. If you're not in it, leave, okay?"
I nod, again unsure what to say. Like Callum, there's some truth to the things they say. And it's fair, which makes it impossible to deflect.
"I'm not trying to come at you sideways," she adds. "I get it. We've all done shit to survive. But Declan, he's not just my brother. He's my twin. I feel his pain. If he's falling for you and it ends bad? That's on me too."
I look at her and say, "I may not know exactly what all this is, but I can tell you with 100 percent certainty, I'm not trying to hurt him. I don't want that. Not ever."
"Good," she nods and smiles. "Sorry to have met you under these circumstances, with things as they are. Who knows though, maybe one day we can meet at a bar or restaurant, something more fun, with less blood and fewer people passing out." She laughs to herself and stands.
"Anyway, my brother wants to see you, and I'm sure you'd like to see him. Can you walk?" Keira asks.
I push myself up, testing my strength. My head spins briefly, but the sensation passes. "Yeah, I think so."
"Okay," she says, stepping aside. "Let's go."
I swing my legs over the side of the bed, noticing for the first time that I'm wearing pajamas that definitely aren't mine. Someone changed me while I was unconscious. The thought should bother me more than it does.
"Did you?" I gesture at the clothes.
"Nina did," Keira says. "She thought you'd be more comfortable." She pauses, then adds, "Your clothes were covered in his blood."
The image flashes through my mind. Declan on the table, blood pooling beneath him, his skin gray and cold. My stomach lurches, and my face must show it, because Keira steps closer again.
"Hey. You okay?"
I nod, swallowing hard. "Just a lot going on."
She studies me for a moment, then extends her hand. "Come on. I'm sure he's driving everyone crazy asking about you."
I take her hand, surprised by the warmth of her grip, and let her pull me to my feet. My legs are unsteady at first, but they hold.
"For what it's worth," she says as we walk toward the door, "I first told him not to go after you, just to leave you alone."
I glance at her, confused. "Why?"
She shrugs. "Because I thought you might be trouble. But now I'm thinking maybe I was wrong." A small smile curves her lips. "Anyone who'd give their own blood to save my brother can't be all bad, right?"
I don't know how to respond to that. To the unexpected warmth in her voice, the tentative olive branch being extended.
"Don't get me wrong," she continues, "if you hurt him, I'll make sure no one ever finds your body." She says it with the same casual tone, but I don't doubt she means every word. "But for now, let's get you to my brother before he tears his stitches trying to find you himself."