Chapter 13 Deirdre
Deirdre
“Now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night.” Edgar Allan Poe
For the past three weeks, I haven’t taken a single step alone.
Not in the metaphorical sense.
Literally.
If I’m walking across the courtyard, someone is walking beside me, matching my pace, holding my elbow just in case.
They try to act like it’s no big deal, but their constant hovering is about to drive me insane.
I know they mean well, but damn, I just want to feel a sense of normalcy.
Claire and Gabe take turns dragging me out into the sunshine when I feel too cooped up.
Even Vincent, who was apparently a physical therapist in a past life, guides me through stretches some mornings, like he’s been doing this his whole life.
And Kieran acts like some helicopter parent, who’s afraid I’ll break in front of him.
But he does attempt to do it quietly. Sometimes, I have to shoot him a glare or remind him of the girl he knew before.
And somehow, without meaning to, they’ve all started doing my physical therapy exercises with me, as if to show me even more support.
It’s comical, really. Claire and Gabe groan dramatically when we do wall squats.
Vincent mutters about being too old for this shit.
Kieran never complains. He just watches me with that intense focus of his, eyes tracking every movement like he’s trying to memorize the way I move now, post-trauma, as if I have new limitations.
It’s been thirty-four days since my release from the hospital.
Classes resume in three days. I have never been more excited to sit in a musty auditorium and listen to monotoned professors drone on and on about ancient literature in my life.
What’s even more exciting is that the university officially approved an undergrad being Kieran’s teaching assistant, using the excuse to the board that it would be a good rest period for me since I am still technically healing.
I’ll keep milking that excuse if it keeps me in the proximity of Kieran any day.
The pain in my ribs has almost completely faded; at times, I will feel a dull ache instead of a shooting jab. I can breathe easier and stand straighter. Most notably, I can laugh without wincing.
Okay, maybe I still wince a little. But progress is progress.
The guys are pulling a shift at Salvation. Kieran has been a more active shareholder at the club, helping Vincent where he can.
Tonight it’s just me and Claire. We’re celebrating our last few study-free nights of freedom, with takeout from a new little Thai place we both pretend not to be obsessed with.
We’re parked on my bed, surrounded by crumpled napkins and empty cartons.
My favorite stretchy sweatpants are riding up my ankle, and Claire’s already down to a tank top, cheeky shorts, and mismatched socks.
“This is it,” Claire announces, shoving another crab rangoon in her mouth. “Peak femininity. A girl’s night full of fattening take-out, trash TV, and no men.”
“Speak for yourself.” I grin. “I am really craving a massage from Kieran currently.”
Claire raises a brow. “You mean when Kieran massages your shoulders or your…shoulders?”
I snort. “You know exactly what I mean.”
She pops a piece of tofu in her mouth and shrugs, trying to look innocent. “Ohhh, I know, Missy. Tomorrow you go to the doctor. If he gives you the all-clear, I assume someone will be celebrating by giving you the…all-clear.”
I almost choke on my drink. “Oh my God.”
She cackles. “What? A month is a long time for the broody professor.”
I throw a napkin at her. “It’s a long time for me.”
She pauses. “Seriously, how you haven’t run through a jumbo pack of batteries with your vibrator is beyond me.”
“Claire!”
She starts to giggle uncontrollably and chokes on a bite of food.
“Karma’s a bitch isn’t it?” I laugh.
She rolls her eyes as she is dabbing away the tears with the napkin I threw at her.
I’m not going to lie. Keeping my hands off Kieran when he is near me has been the hardest test I’ve had.
There have been plenty of stolen, heated moments.
Moments where his hand skimmed too low on my stomach, or his mouth lingered too long against my neck.
And I want it, have practically begged for it, but he pulls away every time, like he was afraid I’d crumble in his hands.
“Look,” I mutter, suddenly feeling warm. “I’ll be glad when I get cleared just so he’ll stop looking at me like I’m porcelain.”
Claire gives me a smug look. “So you are planning to—”
“Eat pad thai and watch a bad rom-com,” I interrupt. “That’s the plan.”
“Stop deflecting,” she says, beaming. “You know I live for the juicy details!”
I roll my eyes and throw another napkin, laughing harder this time.
“As if you don’t have Gabe!”
“That’s different. He’s the hot bartender. You have the forbidden, stabby professor.”
It feels good to laugh again. Not just the sound of it, but the feeling of it. I feel brighter, full, almost like myself again.
Almost.
I let out a sigh, checking the clock.
Ten at night. In just a few hours, Kieran’s arms will be around me for yet another night of innocent sleeping.
One more sleep. Just one more.
Then, I will be reminding Kieran McKnight who’s in control.
My phone buzzes on my nightstand, and I jolt awake. Squinting at the phone screen, a goofy grin crawls across my face as I read the notification.
Kieran: I’m on my way up.
There’s a light knock at the door around three in the morning. I quietly climb out of bed and try to tiptoe across the room so I don’t wake Claire.
I don’t know why he knocks.
Kieran shows up right after closing time at Salvation, his tie loosened, the sleeves of his black dress shirt rolled to his elbows.
He looks tired, the kind of tired that clings to his bones.
I don’t think the man has truly rested in over a month, but the second his eyes land on me, his expression shifts.
He softens. And I feel that ridiculous ache again, the one that’s been growing stronger every day that I am closer to being cleared.
“Hey,” I say, stepping aside so he can walk into the dorm room. Claire stirs quietly in her bed, and we both pause for a second. It’s like sneaking around a parent.
“Hey,” he murmurs back. His eyes sweep over me in that quiet way of his, like he’s checking for invisible bruises. “You okay?”
I nod, brushing my fingers against his hand as he walks past me toward the bed. “I’m more than okay.”
He doesn’t say anything, but when he sits, he exhales like he’s been holding his breath all day.
I cross the room, crawling up next to him, the bed dipping under our weight. My side still twinges a little when I move too fast, but I don’t let that stop me from curling into his side. He drapes an arm around my shoulder automatically, his hand rubbing slow circles into my upper arm.
We sit like that for a while, in that kind of silence that only Kieran makes feel sacred.
“Tomorrow,” I whisper, tilting my head to look at him.
He nods, lips pressed into a tight line. “You nervous?”
“A little,” I pause, “mostly excited.”
His hand slows. “Deirdre…”
I wait, holding my breath because I never know what to expect from him.
He doesn’t finish the sentence. Instead, he turns his face toward mine and brushes his nose along my temple, his mouth just grazing the skin above my cheekbone.
“I just…I keep thinking about everything you’ve been through. And how I couldn’t stop it.”
“Kieran, you’ve got to stop torturing yourself. You’ve been here every day since.”
“It’s not enough,” he murmurs, his voice tight. “It never feels like enough.”
I pull back just enough to see his eyes, dark and stormy, full of all the emotions he never says out loud.
I slide my hand to his chest, right over his heart. “It is enough. Just you being here has made me feel safe when I didn’t think I could feel safe again.”
His eyes shut for a beat. When they open, they’ve gone hot, almost molten. “You don’t make it easy to keep my distance.”
“I don’t want you to.”
Kieran brushes a lock of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering against my cheek. “If the doctor clears you tomorrow…”
“Then we’ll celebrate.”
His jaw flexes. “You say that like you have an exact plan.”
“Oh, I do, Professor.” I lean in, our noses almost touching. “But I’m not going to give away the surprise.”
He groans, resting his forehead against mine. “You’re going to kill me.”
“Then you’ll die a happy man.”
He chuckles. As it rumbles through his chest, Claire stirs in bed.
We fall back into silence. His hand slips into mine beneath the covers, and we sit there like that for a brief moment.
Tomorrow, everything changes. We get to explore our new normal, and I begin my search to hunt down Trevor.