Page 38 of The Endless Want

“Ailish.” Her voice is firmer now. “Listen to me. Declan is reckless, not stupid. If he put a guard outside, he thinks you’re in danger. He’s not trying to cage you. He’s trying to keep you alive.”

“Then why leave without telling me?”

“Because he’s Declan,” she says. “Because he’s a blunt instrument who thinks protecting people means hiding them.” A short pause. “Because he’s terrified, and Declan O’Donnell doesn’t know what to do with fear.”

I let out a rough, bitter laugh. “So he just disappears?”

“He’s probably going after whoever hurt you.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“I know,” she says gently. “But it makes it understandable.”

I collapse back against the sofa cushions, staring up at the cracked ceiling. “I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to sit in this damn apartment while everyone else decides things for me.”

“I know,” she repeats. “But running will only make things worse.”

Silence stretches. “Ailish,” Mackenzie adds softly, “are you hurt?”

The tears I’ve been holding back spill, hot and humiliating. “I don’t know. I think I’m okay. Physically. I just—” I shake my head. “I can’t think straight.”

She exhales into the phone, steady and warm. “Listen to me carefully. You’re exhausted. You’re traumatized. You’re trying to make sense of things while you’re still bleeding emotionally.”

“I don’t want to be a burden,” I whisper.

“You’re not,” she snaps—then softens. “You are never a burden to me.”

My chest constricts.

She sighs. “All right. Here’s what I’m going to do.” Her tone becomes brisk—Mackenzie in strategist mode. “I’ll watch for the right moment. I’ll talk to Liam. I’ll explain just enough. I’ll try to negotiate so he doesn’t freak out, doesn’t escalate, and doesn’t start a war with Declan because that is the last thing we need.”

My breath catches. “Mackenzie—if Liam thinks I’ve vanished, he might⁠—”

“I know.” Another sigh. “That’s why I’ll handle it. Carefully. Quietly. Without revealing your location and without pissing Declan off. I know how to thread that needle.”

A choked laugh escapes me. “God, I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” she says. “You sound like you’re sitting on the edge of falling apart.”

“I am.”

“Then you’re allowed to. You’re human, Ailish. Let yourself break down. Let yourself feel it. Then we’ll put you back together. I promise.”

That promise hits harder than I expect. I swallow. “What should I do until then?”

“Stay put,” she says gently. “Stay alive. Rest. And whatever you do—don’t run toward Liam or call him from that phone. Not yet.”

I nod, even though she can’t see. “Okay.”

“And Ailish?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not alone,” she says. “Even if it feels like it. You can call me anytime. I’m here. And I’ll get you out of this. One way or another.”

A trembling breath leaves me. “Okay.”

We end the call.