Chapter 27 Verity
Verity
Ronan's question killed my high and every single negative thought floating around in my fucked-up head came out to play.
I wasn't upset, just broken, and I knew that explaining this to Ronan would lead to a bunch of questions I couldn't answer. He wouldn't understand.
Ronan was like a bouncy golden retriever. He rarely suffered from bad moods, and unless someone badly pissed him off, he acted like the sun came out just for him.
Every single day.
Which, for the record, it definitely didn't do in this part of Ireland.
He would never understand my messed-up thoughts and emotions. Hell, I didn't know how to untangle the toxicity in my head. Nothing made sense to me. I should be happy. Ronan wasn't bored yet. He'd given me an orgasm while expecting nothing in return.
Yet the black cloud hovering over me had barely shifted and the gremlins in my brain continued to remind me he'd soon lose interest and move on to the next pretty young thing. But I had to give him something, or he'd continue to pick away at my scabs until I bled.
"I can't shoot."
"Shoot?" He scratched his head in confusion. "Why would you need to shoot anything?"
"Conal insisted I need to learn how to shoot, so he took me to the range and gave me a lesson. I was terrible." I yanked the covers up. The room had cooled, and I didn't enjoy being naked now that I wasn't in the throes of an orgasm.
"That's the dumbest shit I've ever heard," Ronan scoffed. "It's our job to protect you!"
I thought the same, but I figured Declan planned to send me away with a gun and a prayer. They were probably all sick of having me around.
"Anyway, I was useless, so it was a waste of time." I hunkered down under the comforter and closed my eyes. Despite sleeping for a couple of hours, I could barely summon the energy to move. Everything ached, especially my shoulder from tensing each time I had to pull the stupid trigger.
"You're not useless, pixie." Ronan crawled into bed and pulled me into his arms. Coarse denim scratched my skin, but I didn't mind. His body warmed me and after a few moments, I relaxed and snuggled into the curve of his shoulder.
"Not what Conal said." OK, so he hadn't said those exact words, but he'd definitely thought it each time I failed to hit the target.
"Pixie, Conal couldn't hit anything for months when Pa first gave us guns as kids. Pa made him get his eyes tested and then had a meltdown when the optician said Conal had 20/20 vision."
I snorted into Ronan's tee.
"He can hit things just fine now, but it took a lot of practice." My brain threw up an image from the crash. Of blood and brain-matter exploding everywhere. The sound of a gunshot blasting through the car. I'd be dead if he hadn't shot that man with pin-point accuracy.
"Breaking holds and punching someone in the nuts without breaking your hand are useful skills, but I see no point in you learning how to shoot, Pixie. Now let's get you dressed. You need to eat something. I can feel your ribs."
"I'm not a dog, Ronan. And I'm also not skinny."
He kissed the top of my head. "No, Pixie, you're perfect."
For a moment, I allowed his words to sink in, warming me from the inside. The rational side of my brain reminded me he was full of shit and this was the kind of nonsense he told all the women he fucked, but it didn't stop me from enjoying how it made me feel.
Special.
Adored.
Wanted.
Conal walked into the kitchen just as Ronal slid a plate of food in front of me. Mrs. O'Mara had left a chicken and gravy pie for us to help ourselves to, along with some mashed potato, green beans, and a jug of thick gravy.
The scent of meat and pastry made my stomach growl loudly, but Conal's frown at the sight of Ronan's hand on my shoulder soon killed any appetite I had.
He barely looked at his twin. I watched as he opened the refrigerator and pulled out a beer.
"Whose idea was it to teach Pixie how to shoot?" Ronan asked in a deceptively calm voice.
Conal looked up. "Mine. Why?"
Ronan slammed his fist down on the pine table, causing my water to slosh everywhere.
"Because it's a stupid fucking idea! She has us, you moron!"
"She doesn't have us," Conal replied without sparing me a glance. The words hit me like a dagger to the heart. A reminder of my outsider status. I wasn't family. The guys protected their sisters and Eden without a second thought. But not me. Once I left here, I was on my own.
"We can't be with her 24/7," he continued. "I figured if she had a small gun and knew how to use it, it might save her life one day."
Ronan's hand on my shoulder squeezed hard enough to cause me pain, but I stayed quiet as my slice of pie cooled on the plate. The tension in the room grew so thick I almost choked on it.
"She has me. If you don't want to be a part of this, that's up to you, but Pixie is mine. And I protect what's mine."
Conal's jaw clenched. "She has you," he sneered. "How long for? The next week? A month?"
The knife in my hand clattered when I dropped it onto my plate. Conal was right. Ronan would soon lose interest. It was clearly a surprise to all of us he hadn't moved on to his next conquest already.
I went to move from my chair, but Ronan forced me back down, a firm hand on my shoulder.
"Fuck you, Conal, and fuck you for making Verity feel less than."
Confusion flashed across Conal's face. "What?"
"How dare you tell her she's useless because she couldn't hit the target! It took you months to hit a fucking tin can, you asshole!"
"I didn't—" But before Conal could finish the sentence, Ronan swung a fist out, clocking him on the jaw.
"And that's for leaving me on read." Conal barked out a laugh while rubbing his jaw.
"You're a fucking idiot, Ronan. Verity deserves better than you. Leave her the fuck alone so she can meet a decent man."
"Like you, eh, brother?" Ronan smashed his fist into Conal's face again, knocking him back into a chair. I winced as it fell apart like kindling.
"No! Not me or anyone connected with this family! Our world is too dangerous!"
Anger churned in my gut. How dare he act like he knew what was best for me? I'd grown up in this world. My sister was a part of it. In what universe was I going to meet and marry some fucking accountant or used car dealer?
He was fucking delusional.
"Fuck you. You're just jealous, Con. Admit it!"
"I'm not jealous!" Conal hurled back, finally defending himself. Another chair split apart as Conal threw Ronan toward the fireplace.
"Yeah, you are! You want her, but you're too chickenshit to admit it!"
"I'm trying to do the right thing!"
Ronan got the upper hand, pinning his twin to the floor dangerously close to the glass door of the log burner.
"Stop!" I screamed. "Stop hurting each other!" They both paused and turned. "I don't want this. Any of it. Please stop fighting."
"Pixie, we fight all the time. His ugly mug can take a few punches."
"If I'm ugly, so are you, you gobshite." Conal wiped his bloody nose with his sleeve and shoved his brother off.
"Ronan." My heart clenched at what I needed to do. Getting involved with him was bad for all of us, and I didn't want to come between him and his brother. I wasn't worth it. This had to end. "I think it's better if we don't do this anymore. Please stay away from me."
"Pixie!" All the warmth in his expression faded. He looked stricken. And also angry. "Don't you fucking—"
"What the FUCK is going on in here?" Declan appeared in the doorway, his huge frame vibrating with fury at the sight of two broken chairs and blood spatters all over the stone floor.
Silence hung heavily over the kitchen, interrupted only by the occasional crackle of logs inside the wood burner. Ronan's hurt gaze found me, but I looked away. I'd said my piece. Whatever had happened between us was over.
I knew I was nothing but a temporary source of amusement. The moment someone prettier, skinnier, came along, his roving eye would move on. And as for Conal. Well. I had no clue what he thought, and it was better if it stayed that way.
Maybe I should head back to Thea's, like she'd suggested this morning.
Again. A week or two in the sun might help.
She'd be too busy with the kids and work to have time to quiz me on my plans, and if I played my cards right, I could top up my tan and then catch a flight to Thailand without too much stress.
Having made my mind up, I ducked out of the kitchen while Declan muttered something about idiot brothers and too much testosterone. I caught him throwing me a suspicious look, but he made no effort to stop me.