by Zoey Parker
“No, excuse me,” Killian said, a beaming smile spread across his face. He went to exit the bathroom, but just before he did, he turned around and gave me a pointed look, his eyebrows drawn together in the center.
Once he was gone, I turned back to the mirror and reapplied my lipstick, my hands trembling with nerves and anticipation. Had I just agreed to meet with Killian O’Donnell?
###
The wake began immediately after the funeral. Long tables piled with casseroles, potatoes, rolls, and pies filled the conference room on the compound. Typically, the room was used for meetings and the occasional low-budget wedding, but today it was a dining hall. Round tables with chairs lined the edges and, despite the somber occasion, the room was full of chatter and laughter.
In classic Irish tradition, there was also an open bar. So, before dessert had officially begun, half the room was tipsy. I turned down drink offers from several different men, hoping no one would notice I wasn’t partaking in the festivities. Caleb seemed to be having a particularly good time. He moved from table to table, his laughter carrying above the noise of the room, a drink permanently in his hand.
Liam was holding court at the head table, his closest friends and family surrounding him. Each person took a turn telling a memory of Niall. Some from when he was just a little boy running around the compound stark naked, a diaper in one hand and a bottle in the other. Others were more recent—examples of his generosity, his good heart.
They all made me wish I’d known him better, wish we’d been more than sex acquaintances. Still, I stood there and listened, memorizing the stories so I could one day share them with our child.
Around 7:45 pm, the room had descended into a full-on party scene. Someone had brought in speakers and started playing music—the bass so high it rattled the empty dishes still on the buffet table. The fluorescent lights were dimmed, and someone had strung Christmas lights around the doorways, giving the somber affair a very jolly makeover. And even though there was still a very long line leading up to the open bar, everyone was already drunk and had been for some time.
A stranger off the street would have no idea everyone was gathered together for a wake. Normally, the chaos at the large compound events annoyed me. The noise, the drinking, the groping—it all just made me wish I lived in a quiet suburb somewhere with a family who ate brunch and attended Sunday Mass. But tonight, I was grateful for the crazy brood I’d been adopted into.
I slipped into the kitchen and out the back door without a single person even realizing I was gone. The air outside was balmy but cool. I still had on my black dress and heels from the funeral, and I wished I’d thought to bring a jacket.
Suddenly, a thought hit me: should I have brought a form of protection? The thought hadn’t crossed my mind until I was halfway to the meeting place. I still had no clue what Killian’s intentions were. Was I blindly walking into a trap without so much as a rape whistle or pepper spray? I didn’t have anything more powerful than that. Dad and Caleb were the gun owners, and they kept their guns in locked cabinets. Even if I did have a key to one of them, it was too late now. There wasn’t enough time to go back to my house and grab anything.
Besides, Killian knew my secret. If I was late, he could think I wasn’t going to show and decide to tell everyone about the pregnancy. At this point, no matter how uncomfortable it made me, meeting with him empty-handed was the only option.
As I made my way to the east fence, the shed Killian mentioned came into view. It held a riding lawn mower, snow shovels, leaf blowers—basically, all of the seasonal yard equipment—so there wasn’t much foot traffic in the area. There also weren’t many lights. The rest of the compound was dotted with security lights and cameras, but this back corner had been an oversight. Is that why Killian chose it as a meeting place? Because it was dark? Secluded? Far enough away that no one would hear me scream?
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. There was no point panicking about something that most likely wouldn’t happen. I turned the corner of the shed and saw a shadow leaning against the wall. Even though I was suspecting Killian to be there, I still jumped when I saw him.
“Sorry,” he said, though he hadn’t done anything wrong. “Thanks for coming.”
I nodded, and then realized he might not be able to see me very well in the dark. “No problem.”
“I need to tell you something before we go any further,” he said. “I did not kill my brother. And if I knew who did, they’d be dead right now.”
The blunt way he brought up the subject of his brother’s murder surprised me. I had been prepared to slowly work up to the topic, press him for details, try to get a feel for whether or not I could trust him. I hadn’t anticipated he’d launch directly into it.
“Why is everyone saying you did?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I guess because I have always been the loser of the family. They assume it’s jealousy or money or some other bullshit reason like that. But none of it’s true. I knew Niall was better than me, but it didn’t make me want to kill him. It made me proud. He was a better man. Despite my influence, he always made the right decisions. I should have been the one who was shot.”
His honesty unnerved me. Well, what I hoped was honesty, anyway. I didn’t know what to say.
“Do you believe me, Heather? Because if you don’t, we might as well walk away and forget this happened.”
Again, hearing him say my name sent a shiver through my bones that I didn’t understand. There was hurt, mistrust in his voice. As much as I was questioning whether or not I could trust him, I could tell he was doing the same to me. He’d been turned away by his father, the compound, and many people he’d called friends. In many ways, we were each other’s last hope.
My eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness, and I could see that he was wearing jeans and a black T-shirt with a dark wash denim jacket over the top. He looked like he had stepped out of a catalog. I didn’t know Killian well enough to say whether I fully believed him, but I knew I wanted to believe him. And, for the time being, that was enough.
“I believe you, Killian,” I said, hoping I sounded surer than I felt.
He released a nervous breath and then chuckled to himself. “Phew. Good.”
I laughed with him, more out of awkwardness than anything actually being funny.
“Niall told me about the baby,” he said. “It was the day he died, and he told me he was going to support whatever you wanted no matter what. So, do you know what you want?”
“I want to keep the baby. I can’t have an abortion,” I said.
The words took me almost by surprise. In private, I had been fretting over whether to put the baby up for adoption or not, but suddenly the truth felt so obvious. Of course, I would keep the baby. Of course, I couldn’t give it up. Knowing I had at least that one decision made, the world suddenly seemed a little less dark.
He sighed. “Yeah, that’s what Niall said. You do realize how complicated this will be, right?”
“I know.”
“Your dad hated my brother.”
“I know,” I repeated.
“And your dad is very old-fashioned.”
“I know,” I said, my voice growing loud and annoyed. “I know my own father. I understand the complications. But none of those complications is this baby’s fault. I’m not going to have an abortion because it would be the easier thing to do. I’m going to keep this baby because it’s the right thing to do.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay. Okay.”
“Okay,” I repeated, glad I’d made myself clear.
“I wasn’t trying to suggest you should get an abortion,” he said, his voice softer than before. “This baby will be the last piece I have of my brother, so I’m not particularly keen on the idea of shipping it off or terminating it. I just wanted to make sure you understood what will be coming for you.”
“I know what’s coming.”
Since seeing that first little pink line,
I hadn’t been able to do anything but think about the world of trouble I was about to step into. The next nine months were going to be a constant uphill battle.
“Niall asked me to help look out for you and the baby. Keep you both safe. And that’s what I want to do,” Killian said. “He obviously assumed I’d be doing so from inside the compound, but I’m going to try my damnedest to make sure you and the baby are fine. While you’re pregnant, and afterward. Whatever you need, I want to be there for you and the baby.”
I had only ever known Killian as a troublemaking player. A guy who used women, dumped them, and found another. Somebody who caused trouble wherever he went, but always seemed to come out unscathed. So, his sweetness, the tenderness in his voice, surprised me.
For the first time, I saw him as someone I could depend on; someone my baby and I could count on. I still had my doubts, but he had promise. Just as I was going to respond, a loud bang rang out somewhere behind us.
Chapter Four
Heather
Killian jumped backward, flattening himself against the shed and blending into the shadows.
“Were you followed?”
I looked around. “No, I don’t think so. Besides, that was probably just a trash can lid or something.”
“Okay, okay,” he said, digging around in his pockets, his breathing erratic. He pulled something from his pocket and pointed it at me.
I flinched away from him before I realized it wasn’t a knife or a gun. It was a cell phone.
“It’s a burner phone. My number is programmed into it. I know your dad keeps a pretty close eye on you, so I thought it might be safer for you if you had a secret way to contact me.”
“And this is just in case I need anything?” I asked, holding the phone gingerly between my fingers as if it were a bomb.
“Yes,” he said, nodding. “And no. I mean, yes, you should call me if you ever need anything, but the phone is also part of the mission.”
“Mission?”
I held the phone away from me, back towards Killian. I hadn’t signed up for a mission. My mission was to figure out a way to convince my dad to let me keep my baby and figure out how to be a single mom. I didn’t need another mission.
“I didn’t kill my brother,” he said.
“I know!” I said, probably a little too loud, annoyed with the circular nature of the conversation. I’d already told him I believed him, so I didn’t understand why he couldn’t let it go.
“But somebody did,” he said, his eyebrows raising, begging me to get his point. “And I think that somebody lives in this compound.”
My arm dropped to my side. Realization flooded through me. “Really?”
“Yes. Your dad says I told him the exchange was canceled and not to bother showing up, but that’s not true. I never sent that message, but someone did. It only makes sense that it would be someone inside the compound, and I need you to try and help me figure out who.”
I didn’t have a response. For some reason, that thought had never crossed my mind. Everyone was saying Killian killed Niall, so the question for me has been whether that was true or not. I hadn’t considered other possibilities. I hadn’t considered that the real killer could be living within the gates of the compound.
“Do you think it’s safe here?” I asked, my hand resting on my stomach again.
Killian stepped forward and placed a hand on my bare shoulder. “I’m not sure, but that’s why you have the burner phone. If you ever don’t feel safe or you hear anything suspicious, or you just need someone to talk to, you can call me. I will be here in a second to protect you if I need to be, even if I have to shoot my way through the front gates.” He smiled down at me, his teeth shining white in the moonlight. “Okay?”
I smiled back and nodded.
“Great. I know it’s a lot to ask, but you’re kind of the only person I can trust right now. Please call me if you need anything. I’ll be in touch soon. Be careful.”
With that, he darted towards the fence and disappeared behind the loose board. I was left comprehending whether that had all really just happened. The conversation, the mission, his hand on my shoulder. Every time I began to lose my grip on reality, I squeezed the phone, reminding myself that he was real. I had someone to count on. I had someone I could go to when life felt overwhelming and unbearable.
To be honest, everything had felt overwhelming and unbearable recently. I found out I was pregnant, then Niall died, and then I was tasked with trying to hunt down his killer. How had my life come to this? How had I ended up the main character in an action movie?
I thought back and realized it all started when Niall and I first snuck into that closet. If we hadn’t done that, I never would have gotten pregnant, and I would be back at the wake right now, probably hammered drunk and grinding on one of the Murphy boys whenever my dad wasn’t paying attention.
For the hundredth time that day, my hand gravitated towards my stomach. But if we hadn’t snuck into that closet, I also wouldn’t be pregnant. Was that even a possibility anymore? Was there an alternate me out there who didn’t have a tiny embryo growing inside of them? That idea felt more impossible than all of the impossible things that had happened to me in the last week.
No, regardless of how messy everything had gotten and how much messier it was going to get, things happened just the way they were supposed to. I had to believe that, otherwise my world would come crashing down.
I rounded the corner of the shed and found the sidewalk again, continuing on my walk as if I had never stopped to talk with Killian. The only proof of him was the small flip phone I’d shoved into my cleavage since my dress didn’t have any pockets.
I was only a couple hundred feet from the shed when I heard someone running up behind me, their footsteps heavy on the cement. Panic clenched my muscles and set my heart racing, but I whirled around, fist raised to defend myself.
“Whoa there.”
It was Caleb. He slowed to a walk and put his hands up, pretending to shield himself. “Fists of fury, why don’t you put those weapons away?”
“Sorry,” I said, relaxing my body, taking a deep breath. “You scared me.”
“Why?” He laughed. “You expecting someone?”
My heart jumped into my throat, but I tried to sound casual. “No, but no one ever expects a murderer or a rapist.”
He raised a finger into the air, a laugh in his voice. “True. So, what are you doing out here?”
“Just getting some fresh air.”
This was true. Along with having a clandestine meeting with Killian about my secret pregnancy and planning to hunt for his brother’s murderer, I was breathing lots of fresh air.
“What are you doing out here?”
“I was looking for you, actually.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
I laughed, but the truth was that I was surprised. Caleb had rarely taken an interest in me. We’d been in the same building all day—at the church and then the conference room—but we hadn’t spoken once. We went days without speaking, despite living down the hall from one another.
We were close as kids, but once he became an enforcer, that had pretty much taken over his life. He was constantly working, practicing at the gun range, lifting weights, or hiding out in his room. So, the idea that he not only noticed my absence but had then cared enough to leave the party and come looking for me had taken me a bit by surprise.
“With one of our own betraying Niall, you can never be too safe. I don’t think you should be out walking after dark by yourself. Even in the compound. Besides, this part of the compound has poor security and bad lighting. You should stay in the more populated areas.”
“We don’t know that it was one of our own who betrayed Niall,” I said, and then immediately wished I could take it back.
Caleb shot me a strange, sharp look, suspicion written across his brow. “Yeah, and I don’t know for sure that jumping off of the roof would
kill me, but I have a pretty good idea. Killian is the only viable suspect.”
I nodded, wanting to shut down this discussion before I raised too much suspicion. “You’re right. I guess it is just hard to believe someone could be capable of hurting their own sibling.”
Caleb looked away, but I could see the worry lines wrinkling his forehead. “Let’s just get back to the wake.”
“Yes,” I said, relieved at the thought of once again blending in with the crowd of people, not being Caleb’s main focus, “let’s.”
Chapter Five
Heather
Two weeks later, things at the compound had calmed down. Dad and Caleb were working a lot more because Liam wanted security beefed up after Niall’s murder, but otherwise, the rhythm of the compound had returned. I tried to listen in to conversations, keep an eye out for any sort of suspicious behavior, but nothing stood out.
