world. But I certainly wasn’t strong when I met her. Every person has their limits, and I had finally reached mine. I was at my breaking point, and Mack could see that. She kept Donny away from me when I couldn’t take it anymore. And then she almost got killed because of him.
Mack only came into this world because she was searching for her missing friend. I don’t think it was ever her intention to stay. But then she fell in love with Lachlan, and things got a little crazy after that. It turned out that not only was Donny betraying the syndicate, but so was one of the other dancers. She ended up taking Mack for a little joyride with a gun to her head and divulged some hard truths about the friend she’d been looking for.
I know it hasn’t been an easy road for her, and I want to return the kindness that she showed to me when I needed it the most. But she hasn’t answered any of my texts, and I haven’t seen her at Slainte in a while either. Which is why I’m guessing Lachlan is now standing at my door, looking a little lost himself.
The guy that I never would have guessed had a softer side apparently does. And it only comes out when he’s around Mack.
“Is everything okay?” I ask Lachlan. “Is Mack alright?”
“That’s why I’m here,” he says. “Mind if I come in?”
I nod and gesture him inside. It’s weird having him in my apartment. None of the guys have ever been here except Blaine.
“Mack’s still having a bit of a rough time,” he says. “Dealing with everything. I was hoping ye might come visit her. I know your mother is sick…”
“It’s okay,” I tell him. “I’d love to come see her, if she’s up for it.”
“Grand,” he says. “I’ll have Ronan pick ye up this evening.”
“Okay.”
There’s a weird expression on Lachlan’s face. Like he wants to tell me something else. But he doesn’t. So I show him to the door, and then spend the entire day in Ma’s room, hoping for a lucid moment. It never comes.
***
Ronan arrives at my door to pick me up just after six. He doesn’t say a word when I open it, but just stands there looking as stiff and uncomfortable around me as usual. Ronan always does whatever Lachlan tells him to, but I’m a little surprised he agreed to drive me tonight. He usually goes out of his way to avoid me, and I somewhat expected Rory or Conor to be the ones to show up in his place.
“Hi, Ronan.” I smile weakly.
He doesn’t respond. We walk to his car and he opens the door for me and then drives me in silence. I hate it. I don’t know why he doesn’t speak to me. He talks to everyone else. Even Mack. And as much as I hate to admit it that bothers the hell out of me.
I alternate between staring at him and trying to keep my attention focused elsewhere. I know he feels me watching him. His hands twitch, but it’s the only obvious sign. He’s always edgy around me. And I’ve always been too much of a scaredy cat to call him out on it. My methods of dealing with his perpetual silence usually swing between acting completely irrational or avoiding it altogether.
But today made me realize that I really don’t know the first thing about this situation. And I could just pretend it never happened, like we seem to do with everything else, but I don’t want to. The words bounce around my brain as I try to think about the best way to go about asking it. How does someone accuse another of stalking without sounding like a narcissistic asshole, exactly? I don’t know. So I decide to just go for it and blurt it out.
“Have you been following me?”
Ronan’s grip tightens on the wheel and his eyes are suddenly laser focused on the road. But there’s a flush creeping down his neck. This big, strong killer gets embarrassed when I talk to him. I’ve never understood it. He’s not like this with anybody else.
He’s blunt and short and tells things like they are. With everyone but me. He can’t even seem to look at me most of the time.
Mack only came into this world because she was searching for her missing friend. I don’t think it was ever her intention to stay. But then she fell in love with Lachlan, and things got a little crazy after that. It turned out that not only was Donny betraying the syndicate, but so was one of the other dancers. She ended up taking Mack for a little joyride with a gun to her head and divulged some hard truths about the friend she’d been looking for.
I know it hasn’t been an easy road for her, and I want to return the kindness that she showed to me when I needed it the most. But she hasn’t answered any of my texts, and I haven’t seen her at Slainte in a while either. Which is why I’m guessing Lachlan is now standing at my door, looking a little lost himself.
The guy that I never would have guessed had a softer side apparently does. And it only comes out when he’s around Mack.
“Is everything okay?” I ask Lachlan. “Is Mack alright?”
“That’s why I’m here,” he says. “Mind if I come in?”
I nod and gesture him inside. It’s weird having him in my apartment. None of the guys have ever been here except Blaine.
“Mack’s still having a bit of a rough time,” he says. “Dealing with everything. I was hoping ye might come visit her. I know your mother is sick…”
“It’s okay,” I tell him. “I’d love to come see her, if she’s up for it.”
“Grand,” he says. “I’ll have Ronan pick ye up this evening.”
“Okay.”
There’s a weird expression on Lachlan’s face. Like he wants to tell me something else. But he doesn’t. So I show him to the door, and then spend the entire day in Ma’s room, hoping for a lucid moment. It never comes.
***
Ronan arrives at my door to pick me up just after six. He doesn’t say a word when I open it, but just stands there looking as stiff and uncomfortable around me as usual. Ronan always does whatever Lachlan tells him to, but I’m a little surprised he agreed to drive me tonight. He usually goes out of his way to avoid me, and I somewhat expected Rory or Conor to be the ones to show up in his place.
“Hi, Ronan.” I smile weakly.
He doesn’t respond. We walk to his car and he opens the door for me and then drives me in silence. I hate it. I don’t know why he doesn’t speak to me. He talks to everyone else. Even Mack. And as much as I hate to admit it that bothers the hell out of me.
I alternate between staring at him and trying to keep my attention focused elsewhere. I know he feels me watching him. His hands twitch, but it’s the only obvious sign. He’s always edgy around me. And I’ve always been too much of a scaredy cat to call him out on it. My methods of dealing with his perpetual silence usually swing between acting completely irrational or avoiding it altogether.
But today made me realize that I really don’t know the first thing about this situation. And I could just pretend it never happened, like we seem to do with everything else, but I don’t want to. The words bounce around my brain as I try to think about the best way to go about asking it. How does someone accuse another of stalking without sounding like a narcissistic asshole, exactly? I don’t know. So I decide to just go for it and blurt it out.
“Have you been following me?”
Ronan’s grip tightens on the wheel and his eyes are suddenly laser focused on the road. But there’s a flush creeping down his neck. This big, strong killer gets embarrassed when I talk to him. I’ve never understood it. He’s not like this with anybody else.
He’s blunt and short and tells things like they are. With everyone but me. He can’t even seem to look at me most of the time.
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