Page 103

“If your stitching is anything like your boxing, I’ll take my chances with her.”

He stares at me for a beat, then understands his place, and steps away from the car as the rain falls heavier.

“Try not to start a war with your old man,” he says over his shoulder. “Alasdair doesn’t play fair, and she’s exactly the kind of thing he’ll use to rein ya in.”

He’s right.

Which is exactly why I don’t leave her standing in the rain where anyone else can decide she matters before I do.

I flip off my cap, position it on her head, and open the passenger door.

Sera peers up at me from under the peak, and the blue of her eyes in the rain makes something warm move behind my ribs.

I hate her for it.

I hate her because all I want to do is kiss her.

“Get in.”

She stares at me. “Have ya got a first-aid kit in the car?”

“No.”

Her eyes narrow. The pub door crashes open behind her, and more men spill onto the pavement, fists swinging.

Graves moves before I do, cutting them off with his gun drawn while I open the passenger door.

“Sera. Get in.”

This time, she obeys and ducks into the Range Rover. I slam the door and leave Graves guarding my back while I round the hood, unwind the cardigan and check the pulsing gash.

It doesn’t look bad enough for stitches. Though it will work as an excuse.

Graves watches from the pavement, saying nothing now, which is the closest he comes to approval.

I get in, start the engine, and turn the heat up.

Sera sits stiffly beside me, the tips of her hair wet and her arms folded. I reach across the console and press the heated-seat button on her side before I think better of it.

Her gaze drops to my hand.

“Did you just put my heated seat on?”

“You’re cold.”

“I didn’t ask ya to.”

“Shall I turn off your heated seat, Sera?”

She stares ahead, pretending she’s interested in something outside the windscreen.

“No, Fionn.” Her mouth quirks at the corners. “You can leave it on.”

I hit the windscreen defogger next, and warm air pushes hard against the glass, clearing a path through the condensation while the pub lights blur behind us.

I unlock my phone, thumb through Spotify at a red light, and find the song.

When the first notes of “Nothing Else Matters” fill the car, she turns her head slowly, and I keep my eyes on the road.