26. Rory
26
RORY
I know that something happened with Lara and my father; I just don’t know what. Every time I think about what might have happened, rage boils hot in the back of my head.
But Lara isn’t talking, and I don’t want to push her. She’s been shaken all night, trembling in my arms, and I don’t even think she realizes it.
When we arrive at the mansion, I lead Lara inside with my hand at the small of her back, following her up the stairs. She goes straight into the bedroom, unzipping Bree’s dress and letting it fall to the floor.
Despite the situation, I can’t help but admire her slim frame, the dip of her hips, the lacy matching bra and panties set she’s wearing.
She slides under the covers, looking at me expectantly.
“You’re not going to bed. It’s barely ten o’clock.”
“I’m tired,” she whines, her full mouth pouting, and I can’t resist, chuckling.
I know I only have a short time with her. I know that when she goes, it’s going to hurt. But I can’t stop wanting to be with her while I have her, make whatever memories I can.
I undress quickly and get into bed with her in my boxer briefs, pulling the covers over our heads.
“Should we just hide here?”
“Forever.” She gives me a small smile, and I place a hand on her bare hip hesitantly.
I don’t want to pressure her after the rough night she’s had.
But Lara leans into me, putting her hands on my chest. It’s dim under the comforter, but her eyes are bright nonetheless.
So green a guy could get lost in them. Could lose himself.
Is that what I’m doing?
What am I going to do when this is all over? Just move back to my apartment like none of this ever happened? Like I never fell in love?
I hitch in a breath and pull her on top of me, and she straddles my hips, fitting into me like a puzzle piece.
I reach up to unlatch her bra, and she giggles when I struggle, doing it herself.
Her small breasts bounce free, and I cup them in my hands, rolling my thumb over her peaked nipples.
“Rory,” she breathes, and the way my name sounds on her lips makes me plump in my boxer briefs.
I thrust up beneath her to show her how hard I am, and she gasps, hands at her sides, throwing her head back so that I can trace the line of her throat with my eyes.
She’s gorgeous, and the only thing in my head is mine, mine, mine.
But she’s not mine, is she? This is all temporary. This is all a ploy to take down my father, and I stupidly fell in love.
But how could I not? Lara is sweet and smart and beautiful, everything I never knew I always wanted in a partner.
I want to tell her that, but the words seem to block my throat.
She moves off me, standing up next to the bed and sliding off her panties.
I pull off my boxers, freeing my aching cock with a sharp intake of breath.
Lara settles between my legs, and my breath hitches.
“Lara.”
She smiles, taking me into her mouth, and it’s heaven and hell because her mouth is hot and wet, but I’m dying to thrust up, holding myself back, my thighs trembling.
She wraps her hand around me, pumping slowly as she hollows her cheeks.
I throw my head back, gasping in air as I fight not to burst in her mouth.
Lara moans around me and that’s it, I can’t take any more, pleasure shooting through my body.
I lean up and reach down to cup her face, pulling her off me.
She pouts, and I groan, laughing.
“Don’t want it to be over so quickly.”
She grins. “So, I’m good with my mouth?”
I growl in the back of my throat. “Too good.”
Lara giggles and straddles me again, pressing her hot core against my erection, and I moan, grabbing onto her hips to spear into her. She helps, reaching down to guide me inside and finally, I’m buried in her tight, wet heat.
My hips jut up involuntarily, and she cries out, bracing her hands on my chest and rolling her hips to meet my thrusts.
I don’t think I’m going to last long enough for her to come, but I grit my teeth and try to think of anything but how her breasts bounce as she rides me, how her flat stomach slaps against mine.
She moves on top of me like a snake charmer, and I’m sure my jaw will ache from holding back so much.
“Rory,” she moans. “I’m going to come.”
“Thank God,” I rasp, and finally let go, thrusting up into her as she rocks against me, my pelvis grinding against hers.
I sit up to pull her closer, only moving my hips and running my hands up her back. I kiss her shoulder, biting there when I finally release inside of her.
I can still feel her clenching around me as she moans, still rocking her hips, and I hiss at how sensitive I am after my orgasm.
After a few moments, she stills, leaning down to kiss me hungrily. I kiss her back lazily, sated now, sliding my tongue against hers.
When we pull apart, she presses her forehead against mine, still breathing hard.
I hold her closer, panting, too, and we spend a long moment like that, comfortable.
She slides off me and plops down beside me, humming contentedly.
I throw my forearm over my eyes, trying to calm down, and she puts her head on my chest, her arm around my waist.
“I’m going to have to buy that dress from Bree,” she says, and I bark out a laugh, removing my arm from my eyes to look at Lara.
“I should really call her. I assume Declan has let her know the plan, but...”
“She’s your sister,” Lara says simply, and I nod.
I haven’t taken care of my little sister the way I should, but I guess if I had, she may not have ended up a Burke, and from what Lara says, she’s happy.
I roll over and grab my phone off the nightstand, scrolling down to her contact and calling. I put it up to my ear and listen to the tinny ring.
I’m nervous, which seems strange because Bree and I were so close when we were young.
She answers on the third ring, sounding out of breath.
“Rory?"
“Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“I’m a hundred months pregnant, it’s always a bad time,” she mutters, and I laugh.
“So, what are you naming my niece or nephew?”
“Nephew, and we’re stuck between Connor and Finn.”
“I like Finn. Wasn’t that Grandpa’s name?”
“It was.” She pauses. “Enough with the small talk. How’s Lara?”
I glance over at her. She’s snuggled up next to my side, her eyes half-lidded.
“She’s good,” I say vaguely. “How’s your husband?”
“Worried about his sister.” Her voice is a little flat. “What are you even doing, Rory? This isn't like you.”
I sigh. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“Me? Or Lara?” There’s a teasing note to her voice, and I groan.
“Don’t start.”
She laughs. “All right, fine. Have you gotten any dirt on our father?”
“A little. Not much.”
She’s quiet for a long moment. “Anything about Ma?”
I frown, sitting up.
Lara whines and readjusts herself against me. She’s clearly exhausted.
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t you find it a little fishy, Rory? The way she left? She was always so attached to us and then suddenly, she’s gone without a word? Without even telling us goodbye?”
“Our father didn’t have anything to do with Ma leaving,” I say firmly, but something niggles at the back of my mind. A folder on his computer, titled something in Irish Gaelic.
I hadn’t clicked on it, hadn't found it interesting enough, but...
“How do you know that?” Bree asks.
There’s something stuck in my throat, something I can’t seem to swallow down no matter how hard I try.
“I just do."
“You’re being naive, Rory. You of all people should know?—”
“Stop it, Bree.” I know my voice is too sharp, but I can’t seem to help it.
I can believe that my father is a bad man. I can know that he’s a monster. But he loved my mother. I know he did. I have to believe at least that. Or else…
But Bree doesn’t back down.
“Do you know what he said to me, Rory? He said he’d kill me before I became a dog traitor. And that was just for marrying a Burke…” she finally trails off and I’m grateful, because my mind is racing, a headache starting at my temples.
“I did find some things,” I comment. “But nothing about Ma.”
I can’t stop thinking about it. What if Ma didn’t leave? What if all this time, Bree and I thought she abandoned us, and it was him all along? God, how can I even think this?
“He loved her.” This is all I can think about because at this point, I feel like my life depends on it.
Bree’s quiet for only a moment before she speaks, her voice hoarse and a little sad.
“He loved me, too, Rory. Look at us now.”
I can’t speak after that. Finally, Bree sighs.
“Send us what you have, and we’ll look into it.”
“We need more proof.”
“Father isn't in the business of leaving a paper trail.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t find anything that will help.”
“Don’t apologize, Rory. Just... take care of Lara, all right? We’ll work everything else out.”
My heart aches, and I miss my sister for the first time in a while. I usually don’t let myself think about her, about how close we used to be.
I miss my family. I miss how all four of us used to be together before Ma left, before she...
Tears spring to the backs of my eyes, and I fight them back, clearing my throat.
“I love you, Bree.”
“I love you too, bubs,” she says quickly, and it doesn’t help the hot feeling at the back of my head.
“I’ll see you soon.”
She hangs up the phone, and I send the screenshots to her number, but I know it won’t go anywhere.
I throw my head back and hit the back of the headboard, grunting in pain.
Lara, at this point, has scrambled up into a sitting position, seeing my mood shift. “Are you okay?”
I hate myself because she looks so small and vulnerable. I’m supposed to be protecting her, comforting her, not the other way around.
“Fine.” But there’s a strain in my voice and she seems to recognize it instantly, moving closer and caressing my cheek with one small hand.
“You’re not,” she murmurs. “And It's okay that you’re not. Rory, I can’t imagine?—”
“Don’t,” I say brokenly, the tears threatening to spill down my cheeks.
Lara makes a distressed noise in the back of her throat, climbing back into my lap, but there’s nothing sexual about it this time. She rests her head on my shoulder, wrapping her arms around me and squeezing.
I hug her back, burying my face in her neck and hitching in a sob. We sit like that for a long time, Lara whispering small comforts in my ear, and finally, I calm down.
“What did she say?”
I run a hand through my hair. “She’s convinced that he killed our mother. Said he threatened to kill her and if he’d do that to Bree...” I trail off. “And now I’m thinking if that report might not be his trophy for killing your mother, too.”
She bites her lip, nodding, looking me right in the face. “Da has always said it was your father.”
I put her down next to me on the bed, spooning her, and she wiggles back against me.
“We’ll figure it out, Rory,” she says softly, looking back at me over her shoulder.
I love you.
The words want to come out, but they stick in my throat.
This is temporary. This is just comfort for her. She doesn’t love me, and she never will.
How could she. I’m a permanent reminder of what my father did to her. Killing her mother, kidnapping her, shooting her father…
And it’s going to kill me to let her go when it’s over.
Chapter Twenty-Seven