CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Niamh
THE GUNSHOT REVERBERATES through the tunnels, a sound so loud and unnatural it feels like it’s echoing inside my skull. Over and over. Longer than it should, until I’m not sure if it’s real anymore. Maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s just in my head. But I can’t stop hearing it.
The adrenaline guided my hand. In that moment, there was no hesitation. I pulled the trigger because I had to. Because Diarmuid was drowning, and if I didn’t do something, he wouldn’t have made it out. I saved him.
But now, with everything quiet except for the pounding in my head, I’m hit by the realization—what I’ve done. The weight of it feels like it’s pushing me under.
I, Niamh Connolly, killed someone.
My eyes are fixed on Selene. She’s slipping away from me, under the water again in my mind, but that can’t be true. She’s here. I got her. She was drowning, but I pulled her back. I saved her, too. And Diarmuid... God, Diarmuid!
Someone is trying to take Selene. My hands tighten, grabbing her like she’s a lifeline, like I can keep her here if I just hold on hard enough.
Diarmuid’s arms wrap around me from behind, pulling me back, but I’m fighting him. My body is acting without me. I might be screaming, but I can’t hear anything over the blood rushing in my ears, the gunshot still echoing. My mouth is open, and I’m clawing at him, trying to tear myself free. He’s too strong. Too steady. He’s always been too strong.
I’m gasping when I finally stop fighting. The water has mostly drained away, and the air smells damp, like the world is exhaling after holding its breath too long. Diarmuid must have done it—turned the water off, saved us.
I slump against the wall, staring at the body. He’s there, the man who had his hands around Diarmuid’s throat, and now he’s... just there. Still, I shot him. I did that. And now he’s gone, and I can’t take it back.
Diarmuid has Selene on the floor, and he’s talking to her in that deep, steady voice of his, the one that usually makes me afraid, but now it’s the only thing keeping me from drifting away. She’s whispering something back. I can’t make out the words.
I’ve never fired a gun before. I don’t know anything about them beyond point-and-shoot. It was luck or instinct—or maybe something else—that made the shot hit him. I don’t even remember aiming.
I had to do it. Diarmuid was underwater. He was drowning. I had to.
“Niamh.”
His voice pulls me back, dragging me up through the haze. It’s deep, like thunder, but calm, reassuring. He says my name again, and this time I hear him. I blink and try to focus on his face. He looks concerned but not scared. Not like me. I must look terrified. I hadn’t noticed he moved away from Selene.
“You’re in shock,” he says, kneeling down in front of me. “Just breathe.”
Shock. Yes, that makes sense. What happened was shocking.
“Selene’s awake,” he adds, glancing at her. “She’s dizzy, but she’ll be fine.”
I nod, but the words are sluggish like they have to push through something thick to reach me. He’s telling me about what happens next, about the plan, about going home. And then Selene groans.
“No,” she says, voice weak but sharp with frustration. “We’re close. We’re so close to avenging Sophia Hughes. We can’t stop now.”
Diarmuid looks at her, his jaw clenched. He doesn’t care about Sophia Hughes. He never did. But Selene and I do. I can feel it rising in me, that anger, that determination. He can’t stop us now, not when we’re this close.
“We can’t just leave!” I say, the words escaping before I realize I’m shouting. “We’re here. We’ve come this far.”
Diarmuid’s eyes narrow, and I can see the frustration building in him, but this time, he doesn’t intimidate me. This isn’t just about him. It’s about all of us.
Diarmuid stands, towering over both of us, his expression unreadable, but I know him well enough to catch the storm brewing behind his eyes.
“This isn’t just about you two,” he says in a hard voice. “This isn’t about avenging Sophia Hughes. This is about keeping the three of us alive. You almost drowned, both of you. And you think I’ll risk more than that?”
He glances between us, but I can feel his gaze burning into me more than Selene. I know why. It’s not just Selene’s recklessness he’s angry about. It’s mine, too.
“I can’t protect you both if you keep making decisions like this.”
Selene pushes herself up, wobbling on unsteady legs, but she glares at Diarmuid, determined. Even now, when she looks like she can barely stand, she’s not backing down.
“You don’t get it,” she says, her voice trembling with emotion. “This isn’t just about me. I thought it was. I thought it was my mission. But it’s not—this is about us. What we’re doing here… it affects all of us. It’s not just me anymore. I know that.”
Her words hit me hard because I’ve felt it, too. This isn’t just her obsession anymore, her need to chase ghosts, to seek revenge for a woman who was murdered in the shadows. It’s ours. The weight of it presses down on all of us.
“You’re reckless,” Diarmuid snaps. “You risk everything without thinking, and if I hadn’t—”
“I know,” Selene interrupts, her voice breaking. “I know! I put you both in danger because I couldn’t let go of this. But I’m not doing this for me anymore. I’m doing it for us.”
Diarmuid looks at her, his expression softening for just a moment before his anger returns. He opens his mouth to argue again, but I can’t take it anymore. The weight of what I’ve done—killing that man, saving them—presses down on me like a tidal wave, and I can’t keep quiet.
“Stop,” I say, my voice trembling. “Just stop.”
They both turn to me. My hands are shaking, and I press them to my sides to steady myself.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my throat tight. “I’m sorry for not saying this sooner, for keeping it all inside, but I can’t hold back anymore.”
They’re both silent, watching me. I take a deep breath.
“I’ve been so scared—scared of losing you, scared of what would happen if I let myself care too much. I built this wall around my heart because I thought it would protect me. I thought if I didn’t let myself get too close, I wouldn’t have to feel this fear. But I was wrong. I was so wrong.”
The words pour out of me, words I didn’t even know I had, and I can feel the tension in the room shift as they listen. Diarmuid’s face softens, and Selene’s eyes fill with something like understanding.
“This isn’t just about Ella,” I continue, my voice quieter now. “I’ve been so afraid of losing her, of failing her, that I forgot about what I have right here in front of me. I forgot about us.”
I meet Diarmuid’s eyes, then Selene’s. “I want this. I want us. All of us. And I can’t keep pretending like I don’t. I need you both.”
For a moment, none of us speak. The weight of my confession hangs in the air, thick and heavy, but also strangely freeing. I’ve said it. I’ve let it out. Now, I can breathe again.
Diarmuid is the first to move. He steps toward me, his hand resting on my shoulder. His touch is gentle, almost hesitant as if he’s afraid I’ll pull away, but I don’t.
“You don’t have to protect yourself from us,” he says quietly. “Not anymore.”
I look up at him, blinking back the tears that threaten to fall. He’s right. I’ve been trying to protect myself, but all I’ve done is build walls that have kept me isolated. It’s time to let them down.
Selene steps forward, too, her face pale but determined. She reaches out, placing her hand over mine.
“We’re in this together,” she says softly. “No more walls. No more running.”
I nod, my heart swelling with something I haven’t felt in a long time: hope.
Diarmuid looks between the two of us, and I can see the decision forming in his mind. He doesn’t like it, but he knows what’s coming.
“We’re finishing this,” Selene says, her voice steady now. “We’re going to the president. We’re going to finish what we started.”
Diarmuid closes his eyes for a moment, then exhales slowly. When he opens them again, the fight is gone. He’s not angry anymore. He’s resigned but also protective.
“Alright,” he says. “But you listen to me this time. Both of you. No more reckless moves.”
Selene and I nod. We understand. We’re not just three people on separate paths anymore. We’re a unit, a family, and we have to start acting like it.
Diarmuid steps back, his gaze shifting to the body still lying on the ground. “We need to move. It won’t take long before they find out what happened here.”
I glance at the man I shot, a cold shiver running down my spine. The reality of what I did is still sinking in, but I don’t regret it. I saved Diarmuid’s life. I saved Selene’s.
And we’re all still standing.
Diarmuid moves the body, and Selene makes her way over to me, holding out her hands to help me rise. I stand both of us, a bit wobbly on our feet.
“I need this to be over,” I confess, like it’s the first time.
Selene glances down the tunnel as if she can see the outcome. “It will end, but not if we go home. We are too close to figuring this all out.”
She’s right, but I hiccup on a sob. I wish I could close my eyes, and all this would be over. My body and mind are tired.
Selene places her hand in mine. “We are nearly there.”
I nod as tears fall free. God, I hope she’s right.