Chapter 56 - Ronan
Ronan
One month later
Home wasn’t home anymore without my pixie girl. I threw a punch at my twin’s stupid face and laughed when he tripped over a water bottle, not having expected me to lash out.
“What the fuck is wrong with you today?” he yelled.
“I’m pissed off.” He was my other half. He knew me better than I knew myself. How could he not see I was dying a slow and painful death?
“We’re all pissed off, so fucking deal.”
I followed him out of the gym, ignoring his bitching. I had every right to be pissed off. Declan was to blame. He’d sent Pixie to her sister’s house instead of bringing her home, where she belonged.
We’d eliminated most of the O’Rourkes. Pixie’s father was back in prison, and the Romanian asshole was dead. There were no threats left. No reason for her to be away from me.
Sure, I accepted she wanted some space. But seriously, one fucking week would have been enough. It was now a month, no, five fucking weeks since I’d last seen my pixie girl.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and opened the messaging app. Her last message in the group chat had been less than effusive. But at least she’d responded. Hell, she’d even suggested more reading material!
In all honesty, I wasn’t totally into reading about dragon dongs, but it was better than staring at my bedroom ceiling while jerking off for the ten millionth time.
I hummed as I considered what to say. Conal had berated me for sexting her in the group chat, but since she’d ignored sexy messages, I’d stuck to wishing her good morning and sweet dreams and other innocuous shit. I didn’t want her to think my interest in her was purely sexual.
It was way more than that.
Pixie girl was the woman I wanted to marry.
The mother of my future babies.
All ten of them.
Me: Did you dream about me? I dreamed about you.
It was early morning on the east coast, so she’d be waking up around now. Or maybe not. My girl liked her sleep. Fuck, I wished she was in my bed.
Since being nice and respectful hadn’t encouraged her to reply to my ten thousand messages, I figured she may as well hear all about my latest dream.
Me: You were naked and dripping all over my cock.
Conal cussed ahead of me, and I guessed he’d seen my message in our group chat. Dec probably had, too, as he’d not left the chat.
It was pretty fucking obvious to all of us Dec was pining after her. He’d not admitted to fucking her in Sicily, but we knew. How could any man resist my Pixie girl’s sweet lips, gorgeous tits, and pretty pink pussy?
But I understood his bad mood. The fucker was depressed. After the public vilification he’d endured for publicly dumping Bridget, the poor bastard definitely needed a pick-me-up. Reading about my sexy dreams in our group chat would be the pick-me-up he needed.
“Do you really have to post that filth? It’s demeaning.”
“Why is it demeaning?” I scratched my head in confusion while Conal rolled his eyes.
“Instead of treating our girl like a sex toy, consider saying something romantic, like ‘I miss you’.”
“Surely me telling her how much I miss fucking her is romantic?” What did he know, anyway? He’d been messaging how much he missed her, and she hadn’t replied to him either.
Me: I miss you… I paused and considered Conal’s suggestion, then scowled. I miss your smile wasn’t the vibe I was going for. Nope. Conal might think he knew women but based on the number of women who’d chosen me over him, I had the edge.
Me: I miss your big juicy tits and wish you were here right now so I could wrap them around my cock.
I grinned to myself before squeezing my now aching shaft.
Conal: Please excuse my moronic twin, who I’ve now disowned. What’s he’s trying to say, badly, is that he really misses you. Not just sex with you.
Me: Don’t put words in my fucking mouth!
Conal: Someone needs to.
Two blue ticks appeared next to our messages, showing Pixie had read them. But yet again, she wasn’t responding. Had I upset her?
My bad mood returned with a vengeance. Fucking Conal. I loved my bro but he needed to stop making me look bad.
I was about to curse him for ruining my life when a speech bubble appeared as Pixie started typing a message. Conal asked me something, but I ignored him. The stupid bastard was dead to me. The only person I cared about at this moment was my Pixie girl.
Pixie: I miss you too.
Was that for me or him?
Pixie: Both of you.
Not Declan? Served the grumpy fucker right.
My bad mood lifted. Pixie missed me. All was right in the world. She wouldn’t need to miss me much longer. I’d had enough of sitting around this miserable morgue of a house.
Declan needed to get his fucking head out of his fucking ass and see what the rest of us saw: i.e. that we all belonged together.
One big, happy, murderous family.