by Leddy Harper
His pain was so visible, so tangible, I had to close my eyes to protect myself from its assault. I wanted him to leave. I wanted him to stay. I needed him to make it right, but at the same time, I knew he couldn’t. It’d be a lie if I said I wasn’t relieved to know those men no longer walked the earth, or that I wasn’t crippled with fear at the knowledge of Josh and the things he’d done to the only man I’d loved. The only man I would ever love. But it didn’t make it right. It wasn’t his call to make. Killian wasn’t God, and it wasn’t his decision to end their lives—just like it wasn’t theirs to end the lives of Killian’s parents.
I told him I needed him to go.
His weight lifted from the bed.
He left.
It was what I wanted. What I needed.
I guess I never imagined how much it’d hurt.
Twenty-Eight
Killian
I knocked on the door and took a step away, waiting for her to let me in.
As the seconds ticked by, I couldn’t stop comparing this time to when I’d gone to Cal’s place after leaving Rylee on her bed. Alone. In tears. Pained and gutted by my actions. My head was in a fog, jumbled up, nothing making sense. Nothing meaning a damn thing anymore. So when Cal opened the door and found me on the top step in tears, I practically fell into him.
I’d expelled my truth to him in words I couldn’t make heads or tails of. I didn’t care how he took it or what he’d thought of me. Rylee had turned me away, so I no longer cared about the opinions of anyone else. However, his compassion had surprised me. It pushed me to keep going instead of giving up. He’d convinced me that there was more out there. There was more to live for, to fight for. To win.
So I packed my things and drove home. To Elise’s house. Where I knew I belonged. Where I knew I was safe from the demons chasing me and the heartbreak threatening to cripple me. I was lost, but here, I was safe. It may not have been the house I’d lived in, but it was where Elise lived, and that was all that mattered.
She gasped and covered her lips with both hands. We’d spoken often throughout the years, but I hadn’t returned since the day I walked away. I hadn’t seen her, not once, in five years. And in an instant, I regretted it all.
Every last thing I’d done since I turned away from Smithsville.
“Don’t just stand there, come in.” Elise held the door open wider and made room for me to enter. As soon as the door closed, her arms wound around my neck, pulling me into her for a hug. “Are you staying? Did you bring a bag with you? How long are you here for?”
I’d thought of the many ways I’d fill her in, all the different words I could’ve used. Aside from the one time I’d spoken to her on the night I snuck out, she’d never heard my voice. All our conversations since then had taken place through continuous text messages. So settling on an explanation proved to be harder than I’d originally thought.
“Here…I think there’s a pad of paper in the kitchen. Come on in.” She led me farther into the house and stopped at the counter separating the kitchen from the living room. She took a small notebook, probably used for grocery lists, and slid it in front of me.
With the paper and pen in my hand, I glanced over to her and said, “Was I adopted?”
This time, there was no gasp. No hand covering her gaping mouth. Her eyes were wide as saucers and it seemed her breathing had ceased. I wasn’t sure if my question or the fact I’d spoken instead of written it out caused her reaction.
“The guy who killed my mom…the one who cut up my face…he told me my parents stole me from the hospital. That I didn’t belong to them.”
Tears filled her eyes and leaked down her face faster than she could wipe them away. “Killian—” My name hiccupped in her throat and she had to take a pause to regain her composure. “You know who it was? You spoke to him? Who…?”
“I’ll tell you that in a minute. Right now, I really need to know about my parents. I really need the truth. I feel like I know nothing. I can’t make sense of anything. You’re the only person who can give me any answers. Please, Elise. I need to know.”
She shook her head, but not in response, more of a way to clear her mind, if I had to guess. When she rounded the corner of the counter, she took a seat in a barstool and inhaled deeply. “Your mom couldn’t carry a child. They’d tried so many times, and even though she could get pregnant, she’d lose it. Her body rejected pregnancies, treating them as foreign objects that her immune system fought off. So they decided to use a surrogate.”
“So my parents are really my parents?”
Her glassy eyes met mine. “They are. They only used a woman to carry you. But your parents’ blood runs through you. Your mom knew a woman—they were friends—who offered to help them. Toward the end of the pregnancy, they had to get a court order to keep her in town, and for the hospital to notify them if the woman went into labor. They were concerned she was going to try to keep you. Everything got really messy after that. After your parents died, I was convinced it was her, but then I found out she had killed herself a year before.”
“It was her son,” I said and waited for that piece of information to sink in. “His name is Josh and he went to my dad’s school. He said his mom killed herself because my parents stole me from her, so he blamed them. He said it was their fault his mom died.”
“Did you turn him in? Call the police? Let the authorities know? What about the others? Weren’t there three of them?” Elise flung question after question at me. She didn’t wait for me to answer one before moving to the next, eager and impatient for the answers she’d waited fifteen years for.
I touched her arm to quiet her long enough to speak. “The other two are dead. One overdosed on heroin, and the other was attacked behind a strip club. Josh is the only one left. And no…I didn’t turn him in.”
“How’d you find him?”
“I’ve always known.”
The defeat in her eyes could’ve been seen from the moon. “You’ve known all along and yet you’ve never said anything? You never told the police?”
“I was eight, Elise. I was there and saw what they did to my mom. To my dad. It wasn’t just a threat of ‘speak and I’ll kill you.’ I knew firsthand what they’d do to me if I told anyone.”
“But you would’ve been protected. The police wouldn’t have let that happen!”
I tried to calm down, knowing my anger wasn’t directed at Elise. “I was eight. Just a fucking kid. I had my mouth sliced open, literally hanging on only by my jaw. I’d seen my mom’s throat slit, almost decapitated. My dad had been stabbed nineteen fucking times. There’s not a damn thing anyone could’ve done to convince me I was safe.”
More tears fell. More hiccups clogged her throat. “So…so what did you do? What are you gonna do about it?”
I shrugged. I didn’t have an answer. No matter how much thought I’d given to Josh, what I should do about it, I couldn’t come up with anything. Cal never asked, never tried to convince me of anything. It was my decision—and now Elise’s.
“You don’t have to do this alone. You aren’t alone, Killian. You never were. I’ve always been here for you…and so has Rylee. But you just never wanted to see it. Now, you don’t have to take this on all by yourself. Let me stand by your side.”
“I don’t deserve that,” I answered in a growly whisper.
“Deserve what? Support?”
“Any of it. Rylee gave up on me. And once I tell you the truth…you will, too.” I couldn’t bear the thought of losing both women—the only two women who’d been there for me every step of the way since it all started.
She stilled with her stare boring holes into my face, as if waiting for me to say something. But I couldn’t. Even if she asked, I wasn’t sure I could give her the brutal truth. She’d turn her back on me, just like Rylee had. And I couldn’t chance that happening. I couldn’t be alone.
It started with me telling Elise about Rylee—about finding her in Baltimore.
Then the
baby.
When she questioned why Rylee would walk away—push me away—after finding out about carrying my child, I had to tell her the truth. It was hard and painful and scary as fuck, but I started at the day my parents were killed. I told her how I found out who they were, about my promise to myself to make them all pay restitution for the damage they did—the lives they stole. To me, they’d walked away from it all and never gave it a second thought. They’d gone off to live their lives, off to a land free of consequences, and I refused to let that be their final destination. I told her about the day I left, about leaving Rylee alone in her back yard. When I got to the part about Jameson and Lance—the two men who were found dead—she cried. She held my hand while I exposed every detail, every gritty bit of truth. But anger quickly took over when I got to Josh’s role, both then and now. I explained who he was. What he’d done.
She insisted on retribution.
I agreed, but I didn’t know what to do.
“Do you trust me?” she asked, sounding confident and determined.
I nodded, because I did. I trusted her. Although, that didn’t mean I would like what she had to say. Which…as it turned out, I didn’t. I fought against it. Pleaded with her to let it go. But she refused. And eventually, I agreed.
It wasn’t the easiest choice.
It wasn’t the hardest.
But, it was the right one.
Elise was right. She remained by my side through it all. Held my hand. Comforted me. Spoke when I couldn’t, listened when I could, and waited through the moments in between.
When she first told me what we would do, I had my doubts. I didn’t believe her—I didn’t want to believe her. I didn’t want to accept that there might’ve been another way around it all. I refused to believe there were other options.
Options that wouldn’t have taken me away from Rylee.
Options that wouldn’t have made her push me away.
Options that wouldn’t have left me with blood on my hands.
But in the end, she was right and I was wrong. Through it all, I’d learned that vengeance doesn’t make the best support system. When it’s nothing but you and your anger, the healing never comes.
If only I’d learned that five years ago.
Ten years ago.
Fifteen years ago.
It all would’ve been different.
“All rise…” The baritone voice echoed through the small room, followed by the sounds of everyone rising from the wooden pews. There were sniffles and coughs, but no one spoke. The door behind the large bench opened, and out came a woman with white hair, wearing a black robe and red-rimmed glasses.
I turned around and caught Elise’s eyes. They were teary and her lips trembled as she attempted to offer me a smile. It didn’t work. The comfort she so desperately tried to provide me was lost, swallowed up by her grief. Her pain. Her loss.
Seeing me in that courtroom, I knew she was reliving it all over again.
So I turned around to keep her from seeing my fear. I didn’t want her to worry about me, as well. She had Steve by her side, her hand in his. His support was all she needed. He truly did love her, and I was happy she didn’t have to deal with this alone. Didn’t have to sit there and hear it all by herself. But it didn’t stop me from thinking about how alone I was. Without Rylee, I was so alone. No matter how badly I’d wanted her here with me for this, I knew she couldn’t be. She had enough to deal with, and this shouldn’t have been added to her plate.
So here I sat. Alone.
In New Hope, Pennsylvania. Alone.
In the courtroom. Alone.
Facing the judge. Alone.
Awaiting sentencing.
Alone.
Twenty-Nine
Rylee
“When are you going to give that man a chance, Rylee?” my mom asked as she sat at the kitchen table next to Dad. He set his newspaper down and eyed me. Having one parent corner you first thing in the morning was bad enough. Being cornered by both of them meant this day wouldn’t be a good one.
When I’d shown up at their house four months ago with my bags packed and a job lined up in Smithsville, they didn’t ask questions. I simply told them Josh and I didn’t work out and I was ready to move on with my life. But when they found out I was pregnant, there was no way to avoid telling them the truth—or, at least, a simplified version of it. At first, they assumed the baby was Josh’s. They weren’t so supportive once they found out Killian was the father. They demanded he take responsibility. But when I explained to them his absence had been my decision, they started to quiet down.
Then Killian showed up.
Two and a half months ago, I started receiving packages by the front door. They hadn’t been delivered through the post office or UPS. They’d been delivered in person, by one man. Killian Foster. They always contained little gifts—baby shoes, a keychain of a moon, sketches of a forest at night…little things to let me know he wasn’t going anywhere. And somehow, my parents started showing support. For Killian. They believed he deserved a discussion, but I refused. I wasn’t ready yet. There were still so many emotions and convictions I had to deal with first.
Even though I hadn’t seen him in person or spoken to him, he proved he wasn’t going anywhere. Along with the packages, he’d also left me letters stuck between the screen and my bedroom window. Love notes, if you will. Apology letters. He’d given me space, yet remained close. Day after day, he wore me down. Little by little. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay away for long, especially now that my parents seemed to have taken his side.
“It’s not that easy, Mom,” I said with my back to her while I grabbed the carton of milk from the fridge. “I can’t really explain it, but I need more time.”
“More time?” Her voice went high, as if what I’d said was utterly ridiculous. “Honey, you’re having a baby. You don’t have that much time left. You’re halfway through your pregnancy, and at some point, you’re going to have to let him be a part of it. Whether you decide to forgive him or not, he’s going to be a father, and he has every right in the world to be a part of that baby’s life. Not just once it’s born, but now. You can’t rob him of this experience. It’s not fair.”
I set my now empty cup on the counter and wiped my mouth. “I’m not planning on keeping it all from him. I have my ultrasound in a few days and had thought about asking him if he wanted to go with me. But I’m scared.”
“Scared of what?” The entire time my mom grilled me, my dad sat next to her and watched, as if this was some kind of evening news program. Any moment he might get up and make some popcorn to go with the show. “Is there something you haven’t told us about this fight you two had? I mean, you say you’re mad at him for abandoning you all those years ago, but you must not have been that mad if you slept with him.”
My eyes rolled on their own. It’d become a habit I couldn’t break whenever I was around her. There was only so much I could tell them about Killian, and why I’d decided to push him away wasn’t one of them. “I haven’t spoken to him since we found out I was pregnant. So I’m sorry if the idea of going to his house and knocking on the door terrifies me.”
At the end of the street, there was a house being remodeled. It was an older home an elderly couple had lived in for decades, never updating anything. I saw Killian’s Jeep parked along the curb every day. It was no secret he was there. Not to mention, he’d told me so in one of the letters he’d left for me, saying he was fixing it up for us. For me. For the baby.
That letter left me in tears for days.
“Not to mention,” I added with a finger in the air, “I haven’t heard from him in a while. As far as I know, he’s tired of trying. He’s given up. So to go to him and put myself out there like that isn’t the most comforting idea.”
He hadn’t been around for over a week. No letters. No boxes left on my porch. No Jeep parked outside the house. He’d made no attempt to reach me or tell me where he was going. Two days ago, on my way home fr
om work, I noticed he was back. And still, I hadn’t heard a peep from him.
I knew I needed to make a decision, but I was torn. Him disappearing really opened my eyes, though. I realized I didn’t want him gone. I just didn’t really want him there. At least, not yet. But my mom was right—I didn’t exactly have scads of time to waste. I needed to make a decision, and soon.
“We’re not saying we want you to be with him. That’s obviously your call. We want you to be happy. But more than that, we want our grandchild to be taken care of. If that means child support, then fine. If it’s Killian being in the baby’s life, great. Either way, we only want what’s best for you and the baby.”
“I appreciate that, Mom. I’m trying my best. I’ll stop by his house on my way out to see if he wants to go to the appointment. If he says no, then I have my answer.”
It was easier said than done. The entire way back to my bedroom, my body shook with nervous anticipation.
When I got dressed, my stomach flipped.
When I slipped on my shoes, my chest tightened.
But nothing came close to the anxiety that consumed me when my phone rang. I was seconds away from leaving the house—the car was cranked and my hand rested on the gear shifter—when my phone lit up with a Baltimore area code. I didn’t think my “hello” was even heard as it barely slipped out. Fear of it being Josh ate at me. I hadn’t heard from him since he left my apartment after his altercation with Killian, and I knew he’d come back at some point.
He couldn’t stay away forever.
“Lee?” a deep voice asked through the speaker.
I stilled, my heart in my throat. “Y–yes.”
“Hey, it’s Dalton.” He almost sounded relieved, which didn’t do much for my anxiety. “Listen…I wanted to call and apologize. Josh had me completely fooled. I had no idea of the things he was capable of.”
