KILLIAN: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 2)

by Glenna Sinclair

  “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

  I went to him and peeled the shirt away, shocked by the amount of blood oozing out from under the wet bandage covering a huge portion of his shoulder.

  “Did you go to a butcher or something?”

  “I’ve been moving it too much.”

  I tugged at the edges of the bandage, pulling it free. There were stitches, but blood was slowly seeping from between them like liquid out of a cheap storage bag. I grabbed the first aid kit from the bathroom, searching through it for alcohol and clean bandages. Killian groaned a little, but otherwise he sat perfectly still, the color seeping from his face.

  I made him take a couple of aspirin when I was done and pushed him back against the pillows, taking his shoes off so that he might be comfortable. Well, at least a little less uncomfortable.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” he said softly, his eyes closing.

  “What happened?”

  “We got our wish. We’re going to have to stay here for at least a week, maybe longer. Ian wants me to heal a little before we head to Boston.”

  “Who shot you, Killian?”

  He peeked at me from under his eyelashes. “You were right. This life is a dangerous one.”

  He was asleep almost immediately, soft snores slipping from his long, patrician nose. I lay my hand on his chest and felt his heart pounding underneath. He was still alive, still strong, still filled with vitality. He was still my Killian, still the older brother who protected me from my own fears, still the man who fell in love with me when he thought it was wrong. He was still the man who took my virginity and shared my bed every night for the last three weeks, the man who asked me to marry him not even a full twenty-four hours ago.

  He was mine. I don’t know how it happened, or why, but he was mine. I wasn’t going to lose him now, not after this. I wasn’t going through this again.

  I’d have to get my revenge some other way.

  It wasn’t even Killian I blamed anymore. It was Brian. And I knew all of Brian’s weaknesses. I’d get my revenge. Just not like this.

  ***

  I slipped out of the house the moment I knew Killian was sound asleep and resting comfortably. I didn’t want him to wake and find me gone, so I walked quickly, finding a quiet spot in the backyard to do what I needed to do.

  The internet was a little slow, but Skype worked just fine.

  “You didn’t say that he was a fighter.”

  I stared at the empty chair that appeared on the other side of the line, wishing that he would show me his face. The first time I spoke to him, I was glad there was no face to put the name and the voice to. I didn’t want to know the face of the man I was hiring to kill my fiancé’s murderer. I didn’t want that memory returning to me late at night when I couldn’t ignore the guilt that would come with the idea that I was responsible for the death of another human being. I was okay going through with it; I just didn’t want that face haunting me.

  But now? I wanted to know he was hearing me. I wanted to see it in his eyes.

  “I’m calling it off.”

  “Why? Because he walked away tonight? I assure you, he won’t walk away again.”

  “He will because I’m done. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want him killed.”

  “Lady, you paid me a quarter of a million dollars—”

  “You can keep the money. I don’t care. Just leave him alone.”

  There was a long silence. Then he cleared his throat and chuckled a little. “What is it about this guy? What makes him so special?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re not the only one who has contacted me about him. Someone else paid me twice as much to kill him.”

  “What?”

  I didn’t understand. He must have been mistaken. Who else would want Killian dead?

  “Half a million dollars. He predicted you would lose your nerve, so he paid me half a million dollars to continue on with it. He wants him dead more than you do, my dear.”

  “Who? What are you talking about?”

  “I guess our business is concluded. Don’t contact me again.”

  The screen went dead. I stared at it, disbelief making the signals in my brain misfire. I pushed buttons and smacked the side of the machine, trying to bring the picture back. But it was gone. And when I tried to dial again, he refused to answer.

  It had to be a joke, right? No one else could possibly want Killian dead. He was a good and decent man. He would not hurt anyone unless they were trying to hurt him. Not Killian. He wasn’t like Brian; he wasn’t in it because it was exciting. He was in it because he was loyal to the family. It wasn’t possible that someone else could want him dead.

  This wasn’t happening. It simply wasn’t happening.

  Chapter 16

  Killian

  I woke late in the morning, my face burning and my shoulder aching. The sun was shining through the windows right over my body, the bright sunlight of late winter. I started to sit up, but Stacy was there, pushing me back down against the pillows.

  “Rest.”

  “What time is it?”

  “A little after noon.”

  I sat up again, nearly knocking her to her ass as I did. “I have to call Ian and find out what’s going on.”

  “You need to sit back and rest. That shoulder needs to heal, but it won’t if you keep irritating the stitches.”

  I looked down at my shoulder. Most of the bleeding had stopped. The bandage was spotted, but only in a few places. It hurt like a son of a bitch, but that had to be a good sign, right?

  I lay back and sighed. “Using the phone won’t stress my arm too much.”

  “You should eat something and take some aspirin first.”

  I looked at her and saw the dark circles under her eyes for the first time. “Did you get any sleep last night?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not the one with the bullet wound in my shoulder.”

  I held out my hand to her, my good hand, and pulled her close enough that she perched on the side of the bed.

  “I’m okay.”

  She shook her head and tears began to roll down her cheeks. “You’re not.”

  “Stacy…”

  I reached up and buried my fingers in her hair, pulling her down to me. “I love you,” I whispered against her lips. She made a soft, mewling sound against my lips, and we kissed, softly, her tears leaving my cheeks damp. After a minute, she pulled back, her eyes moving to my bandage.

  “It’s not as bad as it looks. It went right through me.”

  “Who would do this?”

  “I don’t know.” I stroked the side of her face. “But this only seems to prove that we’re better off going home.”

  I felt the tension come into her body, making her tight like the string of a violin. But she didn’t argue. She took a deep breath and straightened her spine, forcing a smile as she looked down at me.

  “Then we get married. Here, at the house.”

  “Wouldn’t you rather wait until we can do it with our family surrounding us?”

  “No. I don’t want to give Pops the chance to talk us out of it.”

  “He couldn’t.” I touched her face, wiping away the tears. But I understood her thoughts. Maybe I’d put them there myself. Maybe I had the same fear.

  “Okay. We’ll get married here as soon as we can.”

  She kissed me almost roughly. “Thank you.”

  She left a few minutes later to go get us some lunch. I got up, moved my arm around a little to see how much movement I had. Not much. My phone was still in my pocket. I called Ian and spoke to him in low tones before heading into the bathroom. I felt like I still smelled like wet dog. I knew it was probably just my imagination, but I had to get that smell off of me.

  She found me standing under the hot stream of the shower, fresh blood flowing from my wound. She made a funny little sound in the back of her throat, but then she joined me, stripping out of her jeans and t-shirt, moving up agains
t my naked body, her fingers moving over my chest like she was verifying that I was still there, that I was still who I’d been before all this.

  I was. And I’d show her.

  I buried my fingers in her hair and twisted her head around, shoving her back against the wall as I kissed her with more fire than ever before. She opened to me, giving back as much as she took, her beautiful little tongue doing things to my equilibrium that nothing had ever done before. I’d been afraid last night, more afraid than I would ever admit to anyone. But I was so busy fighting off death that I hadn’t realized it until I was alone, making the long drive to this house. My hands shook and my heart pounded. But now…I felt more alive than ever. She was my reason for fighting, my reason to fear death. If I ever lost this…

  I could only really use the one hand, but that was no obstacle to lifting her against the cool tiles of the wall. She wrapped her legs around me, pulling me into her as my cock, so hard and ready, filled her sexy body. We rocked, moving quickly against the shower wall, her moans and the movements of her hips egging me on. I wanted to be like that forever; I wanted to fill her and be connected to her for the rest of my life, but then the quivers of her orgasm rocked through her body and they pulled and tugged at me until I was lost.

  There was nothing like the pain and the pleasure of an orgasm…but add to that the ecstasy on the face of the woman you love and the knowledge that your connection could potentially bring new life into the world…it was a reaffirmation of life. And it was worth everything, even the fifteen stitches on the front and back of my shoulder.

  ***

  “There’s a priest here in town who would be willing to perform the ceremony.”

  “Is that right?”

  “We’d have to go to the church, of course. And he wants to meet you first. But he said he’d be willing.”

  I licked my fingers, sighing at the sweetness of the peach I was eating. “Is that what you want? A Catholic wedding?”

  “It is. Isn’t that what you want?”

  “Does he know that we’re technically brother and sister?”

  “We’re not. Just because we lived in the same house…”

  I reached over and wiped a little crumb from her lip.

  “Okay.”

  “Yeah?” Her eyes lit up as if I’d just told a child we were going to Disneyland.

  “Did you think I would deny you?”

  She shrugged, her eyes falling to my shoulder. “Are you going to feel up to this?”

  “I want this more than anything else in the world, Stacy. You know that.”

  She moved into my arms, curling up against my chest. “When I imagined my wedding, I never quite knew what it would be. I saw myself in a perfect white dress, but that was about it. I never saw family because I didn’t really have any and I didn’t see parents because mine are gone. The only ones that matter, anyway.”

  “What do you see now?”

  “You.”

  I kissed the top of her head. “That’s all I ever imagined.”

  “Yeah? You only saw yourself?”

  I laughed. “No, silly. I only ever imagined you, in a white dress, with love in your eyes whenever you looked at me.”

  “Well, you’ll definitely get that.”

  I brushed my nose against hers and kissed her softly. “I will. And you’ll get what you want, babe. I promise.”

  She snuggled against me and changed the subject, but I didn’t stop thinking about it. I was on the phone with Ian again as soon as she left the room. She would have the wedding she wanted if it killed me.

  Chapter 17

  Stacy

  I don’t know where he found the dress, but it was perfect. It was all lace and satin, a sweetheart bodice and a tight waist that fell into a bell that wasn’t quite a mermaid style, but wasn’t quite not a mermaid. It was perfect, and it fit me perfectly. I couldn’t have found a better dress if I’d scoured every store from here to Los Angeles.

  I stood alone in the little room off the nave of the church, staring at myself in this dress. He’d had some woman come in and do my hair and makeup, too, sweeping my hair up on top of my head with just a couple of tendrils falling around my face. And my face—I almost didn’t recognize myself when the lady was done. I could actually say that I felt beautiful for the first time in all my life.

  I heard voices in the sacristy and assumed it was Killian and the priest, Father Gideon. They were like best pals ever since Father Gideon came over for dinner a few nights ago to discuss the wedding. He was a kind, old man with the face of Santa Claus and the frailty of a grandfather. He was like all the old men I’d wished were my grandfather over the years. The little girl inside of me was rejoicing that I’d finally found him, the one that was supposed to be mine.

  There was a tap on the door, and it opened as I slowly turned.

  “I’m ready, I was just…”

  Brian stood in the doorway, his eyes wide and filled with tears as he studied me.

  “My God,” he said softly, “you are so beautiful.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m your dad. I thought I’d walk you down the aisle.”

  “But how did you know?”

  He came toward me, his hands outstretched. “Do you really think Killian would get married without telling the family? We’re all here.”

  “You’re not upset with this?”

  He studied my face for a long second. “I have to admit that I was a little angry when I first heard. And shocked. But he loves you, and if you love him…”

  “I do.”

  “Then who am I to stand in the way of true love?”

  I stared at him, wondering who this man was. The last time I saw him was over seven months ago when he flew to New York for a business meeting. We met at a downtown Manhattan restaurant and had dinner together, he and I and Davis. It was a tense meeting, and he ended it by pulling me aside and…

  “There’s something not right about that man. Would you do me a favor and postpone the wedding a few more weeks?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to know more about him.”

  “No,” I said, stepping away from him. “You took away the last precious moments I had with Mom. I won’t let you take away any time I might have to spend with the man I love.”

  But now he was embracing the idea of me marrying my own brother?

  “I know you’re angry with me, Stacy,” he said almost as though he could read my mind. “But I do love you, and I do want to see you happy. And I want to see Killian happy.”

  I nodded because I believed him. There would be time for anger later.

  We stepped out of the room. Just as he’d said, everyone was there. Ian was standing beside Killian at the head of the aisle and Sean was beside him. Kevin and Kyle were standing in the pews, turned so that they could watch us come down the aisle. Two women I didn’t know were standing on the other side of the aisle, the older one beaming as she watched Pops take my arm and lead the way. The other was watching Kevin—or maybe Kyle—a little blush on her face. She looked like Brian with her bright red hair and green eyes.

  This must be Cassidy and Brianna.

  I studied them for a moment, but then my attention turned to Killian, and that’s where it stayed. He was watching me, his expression more serious than I think I’d ever seen it. He was dressed in a tuxedo with blues and greens intertwined through the cummerbund—my favorite colors. I’d never seen Killian nervous before, but he clearly was now. He smiled softly when our eyes met, and the tension slowly left his shoulders. But it wasn’t completely gone until Pops handed me over and he pressed his forehead lightly against mine.

  “No kissing until the ceremony’s over, brother,” Ian hissed.

  There was a twitter of laughter, but I don’t think either of us took much notice of it. This, the two of us, was all that mattered.

  The priest smiled as we turned to him.

  “We come here today to join these two p
eople in wedded bliss…”

  It was a beautiful ceremony that was decades long and preciously short. Kevin took pictures with his cell phone since that was the one thing Killian had forgotten to arrange.

  “You’ll just have to have another ceremony on your anniversary,” Cassidy helpfully told us.

  I agreed with her. I wasn’t ready to like her, but I agreed that Killian and I should renew our vows every chance we got.

  I couldn’t believe how happy I was. I thought when my dad died that I would never be happy again. But then I met Abigail, and she brought me into her home and became the only mother I ever knew. I had an almost normal childhood from that point on, no more picking my father off the floor when he was drunk, no more making excuses over the phone to his bosses when he couldn’t go to work, no more hiding in the closet when the state came around, wondering why I wasn’t in school. I went to school, became a cheerleader, and played on the softball team. I had friends and brothers and everything any other child might expect to have.

  And I had Killian.

  But now…this was probably the happiest I’d ever been. We danced at a small restaurant where we held the wedding reception, whispered things that were entirely inappropriate in each other’s ears, and began to think about a future that finally seemed to be possible.

  “Three,” he whispered against my ear as we watched Kevin and Sean fight over the last dinner roll.

  “Three what?”

  “Kids. I think three is a perfect number.”

  “Oh. Are you giving birth to these three kids?”

  “Nope. But I’ll be happy to help make them.”

  “I’m sure you will.” I touched his face and drew him closer to me. “And happy to change their diapers?”

  “Of course. I’ll even be a stay-at-home dad if you want me to be.”

  “Do you think we could live off of our trust funds?”

  “It might be a struggle, but, yeah, I think so.”

  I laughed even as I moved in for a kiss. “You’re crazy, you know that? I think that’s why I love you so much.”