by Carina Adams
I would have killed them all—starting with Dustin and Mark, moving to my mother, and ending with my father. I would have made the last two beg for mercy, then I would have executed them. None of them deserved to live. I would have enjoyed butchering them, blood or not.
My phone rang, snagging my attention and distracting me momentarily. I grabbed it from the nightstand, needing to silence the noise, and saw Mark’s name flashing across my screen.
“What?” I snapped, not caring how I sounded or that I was pissed off at him for something he hadn’t actually done. Separating the dream from reality was harder than it should have been.
My cousin was used to my moods and rolled with it. “It’s taken care of.”
I gripped my phone so hard I thought I might break it. I’d forgotten all about the fucking car that had followed us earlier. “Who was it?”
“That chick from this morning? Ron’s girl? Her brothers.”
I almost laughed at that. They had some balls, coming after me. They had an issue with the way things were, then they should have taken it up with Ron while he’d been alive. I was half impressed though. If Gabby hadn’t been with me, I might have actually offered the idiots a job.
“They looking for me or for Ron?”
“Both.” He took a long drag off his cigarette. “It took a little to drag it outta them, but you coulda handled it yourself.”
The question was veiled, but it was there. He wanted to know where in the hell I was and what was so important that I couldn’t take care of my own shit. I didn’t want to deal with him right now though. Not in the middle of the night, and not when dream Mark’s treachery was so fresh in my mind. I ignored it instead. “They set straight now?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.” I hung up, knowing there was nothing else to say and not wanting to hear his voice anymore. I’d answer his questions later, but right now I needed quiet.
I glanced around the guest room, realizing how much it looked like my sister. Welcoming, warm, and homey—all the things Fi had always been. The pictures on the bureau made me stand and shuffle across the room. One by one, I lifted them, squinting at the faces in the moonlight.
The first was of Fiona, Dustin, and me when we were young. I was maybe four, Dustin around seven, and Fi a preteen. We looked happy, all grinning at the camera, Fi between Dusty and I, hugging us tight, protecting us the way a big sister should. I hadn’t seen those kids in a really long time—hell, I’d forgotten them.
The next was the three of us again, this time at Fi’s high school graduation. Dustin was in eighth grade and had just started gaining his height. He was beaming at the camera, excited because he’d be a freshman in the fall. He stood between Fi and a small, shy eleven-year-old me, hands around our shoulders, making it known that he was the one in charge. We looked like a happy family.
How had everything changed so quickly? How had Dustin gone from a funny and protective big brother to a selfish prick in just a few short years? When I thought of my brother, I didn’t think of him as the kid in the picture. It didn’t matter that he was the brother I’d known for most of my life—I would always remember the evil man he’d turned into. I slammed the frame down, disgusted.
The third photo was at Fiona’s college graduation. This time, Gabby had joined us. It may have been Fi’s big day, but Gabby’s image was the one that drew my attention—breathtaking even at fifteen. And even then, I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
She was standing next to Fi, both smiling at my mom behind the lens. Dustin though had his lips twisted in a scowl, a thick line between his eyes, his hand wrapped possessively around Gabby’s waist, fingers digging into her side. I’d ignored the camera completely, opting instead to stare at the beautiful girl next to my sister. My hand was clenched in a fist.
Instantly, I was back in that stadium.
“Hey! Where’d you get that from?” I grabbed Gabby’s wrist, yanking her entire arm onto my lap, and pushed up the thin summer sweater that was half hiding the giant bruise around her wrist.
“Stop!” she whispered harshly, pushing my hand away and yanking the gray cotton back down. “It’s nothing.”
I pulled her wrist closer, frowning. “Doesn’t look like nothing.”
I didn’t miss the way her eyes slid to Dustin or the way he’d suddenly become interested in us from his seat at the end of our row. God knew why, but my father had ushered Gabby into the aisle after me and stepped in behind her so that Dustin couldn’t sit next to his girlfriend. I was in seventh heaven, having her to myself.
She turned back to me, eyes pleading. “It’s nothing, Dec. Really.”
The commencement speech faded into the background as my pulse roared in my ears and my blood boiled. Without caring who saw, I grabbed Gabby’s chin and stared into her eyes. “Did he hurt you?”
Shame filled her eyes. “It’s not what you think, okay?” She tried to turn away, but I held tight. She sighed and met my eyes again. “Declan.”
The way she said my name as if she was pleading with me, went straight to my heart. She didn’t want to tell me. Whatever had happened, she didn’t want me to know.
“What did he do?” I bit out harshly, making my father turn his attention to us and scowl a warning.
Gabby swallowed. “He didn’t…” Her forehead wrinkled as if she was searching for the words, but she didn’t take her eyes off mine. “He got a little rough last night,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’s nothing.”
I dropped her chin. The meaning of her words hit me like a kick in the nuts. I wished she’d done the latter because it would have hurt less.
Most days I tried to pretend they weren’t dating. She spent most of her time with me anyway. We studied together, enjoyed the same shows and movies, and listened to the same music. Half the time when she was at our house, which was all the time, Dustin was gone and she was with me. It was easy to convince myself that she was Gabby, Declan’s best friend. Not Gabby, Dustin’s girlfriend.
I hated the idea of him putting his mouth on her. I knew they’d kissed, and I’d heard him tell his friends that she liked to play hard to get. Normally that would have him running away as fast as he could, but with her, it gave him a challenge. I’d caught them making out a few times, and I’d forced down the hate I felt toward him at those moments.
I wasn’t stupid enough to think he didn’t fuck everything that acted interested, and neither was Gabby. So I’d just assumed they hadn’t crossed that line yet. I wanted to retreat back to the land of oblivion.
I swallowed roughly and turned back to the speaker, trying to hear the story he was rambling on about, my hands fisted at my sides. Gabby covered one of my hands with her own, prying my fingers open and settling her palm into mine. I stiffened, not sure what in the hell she was doing.
She’d just admitted that she’d fucked Dusty, and he’d marked her when he got a “little rough.” Why in the hell would she hold my hand now? I wasn’t sloppy seconds, especially to the disgusting pig that was my brother. I wanted to rip it away, but at the same time, I craved her touch.
She sat forward, never removing her hand, and stood slightly to adjust herself in the hard folding chair. When she sat back down, she scooted closer to me, shoulder to shoulder, her thigh pushing into mine. I didn’t look at her, staring forward instead.
“Thank you,” she breathed into my ear. “For being the best friend I’ve ever had.” Her hand squeezed mine.
I moved my head slightly, just enough to see her, and the scent of strawberry shampoo invaded my nostrils. I was overcome by the urge to yank her onto my lap and wrap my arms around her and hold her close. Instead, I gripped her hand. “I don’t like him.”
Gabby smirked and raised an eyebrow as if she didn’t believe me. “He’s your brother.”
“He’s a careless prick who hurts you.”
“He doesn’t mean to. He just gets carried away.”
Wrong answer. He was a sadistic fuck. I would n
ever hurt her. “Next time he does, you tell me.”
Her features contorted into a look that clearly told me she thought I’d lost my mind.
My dad chose that moment to slide his arm on the back of Gabby’s chair and push his fingers into my shoulder, as if telling me to move over. I snapped my eyes to his, matching his scowl, not budging. When I didn’t take the hint, his fingers danced to Gabby’s shoulder, and he pulled her away from me, toward the other side of her chair.
The message was clear. She was my brother’s girlfriend, not mine. Colin Callaghan wanted me to back off.
Fuck him.
Gabby didn’t let go of my hand, and I clung to hers until after the ceremony was over and my mother pulled us out of the audience to go find my sister. For the rest of the day, Dustin glared at me. Whenever I tried to talk to Gabby, he inserted himself between us or dragged her off.
I set the frame back down, sighing.
I’d hated him that day. He’d been a jackass for years before, and there were times when I thought I hated him. But despite everything, beneath all the arguments and the attitude, he was still my brother, and I loved him. Until I saw the bruise on Gabby’s wrist. That was when my resentment had festered, same blood or not.
The last picture showed Fi, my mom, and baby Grady. He was swaddled, and it looked as though they were in a hospital. That must have been right after he was born. Fi looked exhausted—she’d been Gabby’s coach and spent hours convincing Gabs that she could do what she needed to do—but she was grinning widely, a proud aunt.
Moira, in a rare show of emotion, looked as if she’d been crying. She was clinging to the newborn as if he were her lifeline, the love of her life. Made sense. Dusty had always been her favorite, and that baby was the last piece of him she would ever have.
Jealousy hit me hard. I should have been there that day. It should have been me holding Gabby’s hand, whispering that she was doing great. I should have been the one to cut the cord and hold that baby for the first time, all while praising his mother for how wonderfully she’d done and how perfect our child was.
Even though Grady didn’t biologically belong to me, he should have been my son.
I left the picture with the rest of them and ventured down the hall. It was late, the middle of the night, and I needed to get sleep while I could. But I needed to see him more.
I opened his door carefully, trying not to wake the dogs sprawled out on the double bed next to my nephew. Three different snores greeted me, and I had to smile. I wouldn’t invade his privacy more than I had—whether he welcomed me earlier or not, there was no need for him to be terrified by waking up to a stranger sneaking into his room. Instead, I propped myself against the doorframe and watched his chest rise and fall as he took deep breaths.
In that moment, I regretted more than I could ever admit.
Chapter Nine
Gabby
I was a mess. The lack of sleep mixed with my anxiety from all of my memories this morning, and I was definitely worse for wear. You couldn’t call in sick to being a mom though, so I rolled out of bed, threw my hair onto the top of my head, stuffed my legs into my favorite LulaRoes, and played my role.
My car was in my driveway, so at least that was one positive thing, right? I was going with yes and ignoring the tinge of sadness that came with the knowledge that I hadn’t gotten to see if Dec was the one who delivered it.
It was barely ten when I pulled into Fi’s driveway, but it felt much later. Usually, when Grady spent the night, I was up at the ass crack of dawn and arrived with coffee and donuts before they crawled out of bed. Not only was I late today, I hadn’t even brought java.
Fi took one look at me, and her eyebrows rose so high they almost disappeared. She shuffled me into the kitchen, shoved me into a chair at the table, and slid a cup of caffeine in front of me before sitting across from me and leveling me with a knowing look. “I called you a few times this morning.”
I nodded. I’d be surprised if she hadn’t. I actually had no idea where my phone was.
“Rough night?”
I only grunted as I picked up my mug. I couldn’t begin to find the words to explain my evening with her brother, or the sleepless hours afterward. “Where’s Grady?”
“Playing video games.” She sipped her own coffee. “Did you do anything special?”
The way she asked, obviously thinking that I’d gone out and had a night to remember, almost made me chuckle. I was just too tired though, and I couldn’t do more than give her a small smile. Unsure of how to explain the dinner with Dec, and not sure if I was even supposed to tell her, I only nodded. “I had dinner with an old friend.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Really?” Licking her lips, she sent a little glare my way. “An old friend? Or an old friend?” Her tone changed, hinting that the second was more than a friend.
A door shut somewhere in the house, and I figured Grady had gone to the bathroom. The dogs weren’t barking, so it couldn’t be anything important. I sighed, realizing there wouldn’t be a distraction to get me out of answering. “An old friend.”
She chuckled. “That doesn’t tell me anything.” She dropped her lips in a fake pout, waving her hand in front of her. “Go on, keep your secrets. Just tell me one thing—was this friend male or female?” She wiggled her eyebrows at me.
“Definitely male,” a deep voice spoke from the doorway, causing me to jump slightly and spill hot liquid over my hand as I jerked my body toward the man who had just joined us. “It was me, Fi. Gabby had dinner with me.”
Declan.
I’d thought I was flustered before, yet the flush that moved over my body told me I’d been wrong. All I could do was stare. I had no words. Was I hallucinating? It was a proven fact that sleep deprivation made you see things that couldn’t possibly be real—but was I that tired? Probably. What other reason would I have for seeing Declan in Fi’s kitchen when he couldn’t be there? Here. In the same house as Grady.
“Dec?” Fi stood, glancing from me to her brother. “What are you doing here?”
Other people couldn’t see your hallucinations though, and someone as sensible as Fiona certainly wouldn’t talk to them, so this whole thing had to be a dream. Or a nightmare.
Dec strode into the room and set a white pastry box on the kitchen island. He grabbed a mug from the correct cupboard and filled it from the coffee pot before joining us at the table. We both watched him, me in confusion and Fi in amusement.
“I got to Portland and realized I wanted to spend more time with my nephew.” He watched me closely while he said the words, as if gauging my reaction. Then he moved his mesmerizing blue eyes to his sister. “You need to lock your damn door.”
“More time?” I parroted, processing his words slower than normal.
Holding up a finger to him, Fi said, “Don’t be mad.” She dropped back into her chair, staring at me. “Dec spent the night.”
I felt my forehead crinkle, but not because I was angry. Why in the hell would I be mad about Declan spending the night? He must have come here after he left me. He’d looked exhausted, and I was relieved he’d had somewhere to go instead of driving all the way back to Watertown.
I was happy he hadn’t turned around and left as soon as he realized his nephew was in the house. I’d pictured introducing them thousands of times. Of course, I’d always been there during their imaginary meeting, but it was probably better that I wasn’t there for the real thing. I was too tense around Dec, and I didn’t want Grady to pick up on that.
I didn’t know which of them to look at—their eyes were both so intense it made me uncomfortable. Instead, I studied my nails. I just needed a minute to wrap my head around this development.
“I’m glad.” My voice was rough, almost cracking, and I took a sip of coffee. “We talk about you all the time.”
Jesus, I wished I’d been more prepared for this moment. That was probably not something Dec wanted to hear. The silence was deafening. Music from Grady’s game dri
fted into the kitchen. I took a chance to glance up, not sure what I should say.
Dec’s eyes had transformed, reminding me of the sky before a storm, and they were focused on me. “I should have come earlier.”
The admission, and his devastated tone broke my heart. I lifted a hand, not sure if I was about to reach for him to offer comfort or if I needed him to comfort me.
“Okay.” Fi’s chair scraped across her floor as she pushed it away from the table, distracting me. “Dec, I’m sure the little man is ready for a rematch. He was pretty disappointed when you left earlier.”
Her brother didn’t miss the hint, nodding as he stood. “Yeah.”
Then he was gone.
I stared at the empty door until Fiona moved into my line of sight. “Gabby, I was worried when you came in. Now I’m a little scared.”
“What? Why?” I closed my eyes, shaking my head. “Fi, I’m…”
I couldn’t finish the sentence because I didn’t know what I was going to say. Fine? No, I wasn’t. The last twenty-four hours had been fucked up. I’d gone from not knowing Dec was out of prison and planning to share our life story with the world to having him sitting in the next room playing goddamn Xbox with my kid. How much more could change in the next few minutes?
“Mom!”
An excited shout brought me back, and thin arms wrapped around my neck as a cool face pressed into my neck.
I couldn’t keep the smile from my face. My arms circled him automatically. “Grady.”
I knew the days of him wanting to hug me, and actually instigating physical contact, were limited. He’d always been such a cuddle bug that I was secretly hoping he would never mind hugging his mom. A few minutes of him in my arms, and all was right in the world—everything was put into perspective.
He held me tight, giving me the best bear hug known to humankind. I opened my eyes, needing to see my son, as happiness surged through me. Instead, all I saw was a mammoth of a man leaning back against the counter, watching us.
