by Carina Adams
I half hoped Declan had left, that he was gone for good. It would be easier. The pain of him leaving me again was probably less painful than what was about to happen.
Because if he hadn’t disappeared, we had to talk about something I had never wanted to discuss. It was a conversation that wouldn’t be easy for either of us. A topic I was positive he would not handle well and a confrontation that I would probably never recover from.
Years ago, I’d somehow convinced myself that Mark was never coming back, that his fear of Declan’s retribution would keep him away. I’d been wrong. Not only was Mark not hiding from Dec, he was fucking working for him. And in Declan’s own words, Mark had been his right-hand man for years.
Everyone had hated Mark after Dustin died. They’d blamed him. I’d just assumed Dec felt the same way.
Declan had been angry with Mark. Not because he felt Dustin’s death was Mark’s fault, but because Mark hadn’t stopped Dusty from hurting me that day. It had been a dark time in my life, with so many things happening at once, and my memories meshed together in a way that made it hard to keep the timeline straight. Yet I would never forget how Dec had screamed at his cousin, telling him they were done and ordering Mark to get out of his face.
When Mark disappeared, I was so sure that it was for good. I never imagined that Dec would forgive him. Or use him to help run the business. It was a complete shock.
I’d underestimated Declan’s loyalty. Not his loyalty toward me, because I would never doubt that. I had overlooked the blinding love he had for his cousin.
As much as I’d depended on Declan after that day, I’d never told him the truth. I could tell myself that it was because I couldn’t bear the idea of causing him any more pain than I already had. Because of me, he’d lost his brother long before Dustin died, and if I had been honest about what had really happened after he left for college, Declan would have lost the memory of his best friend too.
I’d wanted to protect him. He’d already lost his brother, in more ways than one. He hated Dustin so much that he couldn’t even mourn the loss of his flesh and blood. The only solace I had was that Dec hadn’t been the one to pull the trigger. But I couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t hunt Mark down.
I could also blame the fact that I’d struggled with uncertainty for years, terrified Declan would choose his brother over me if it came down to it. Completely gullible, I’d listened to Dustin’s taunts and believed that Dec could never love someone like me. His love for Dusty was nothing compared to his love of Mark though, and in the back of my mind, I thought that he might think I was lying, or side with Mark. Either would have destroyed me.
While there were many underlying reasons I had never told Declan what had really happened, the biggest reason was that if I admitted it to him, it was real. If I said it out loud, if someone found out, then it had really happened and I couldn’t live in my little bubble of make believe anymore.
I’d never told anyone the complete truth. My therapist had heard what little I needed to get off my chest, Fi had figured out bits and pieces of it, and Colin had guessed, but I’d never actually said the words or told anyone what had happened in the months leading up to Dustin’s death. I could have, but to what end? There was so much pain in our pasts, so many bad memories, and I already had too much blood on my hands. I didn’t want more.
Now I could see what a colossal mistake that had been. Maybe the truth didn’t set us free, but neither did avoiding it. I needed to face the truth and trust that those who loved me would still be there in the end.
I sighed and turned to slide out of bed, my eye catching the framed snapshot of Colin and Grady on my nightstand. It was one of the only pictures I had of Colin. He didn’t allow them, said that his refusal was to protect his family “in case.” He never did tell me what “in case,” meant, but I knew it had something to do with his business.
His outlook changed after Grady was born though. Maybe it was the cancer eating him alive from the inside. Or maybe it was because he was just tired of hiding and wanted his grandson to have something tangible of him. Whatever the reason, once my son was born, Colin let me take his picture.
God, I missed that man. I loved the memories I had of my dad. I’d always wonder what my life would have been like if he hadn’t died so young. Yet there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t miss Colin or wish he was still here. He’d know how to talk to Declan and how to help me get it all out.
As I stared at that picture, willing the tears to stay at bay, I was transported back to that day. The last one we had together.
“I can’t be here anymore, Little One,” he told me as he fought a cough that racked his frail body. “I need to know that you and Grady will be okay. Promise me, if you need anything…”
I clutched his hand tightly, glanced quickly at the baby sleeping in the bassinet a few feet away, and forced a smile onto my lips as I looked back at the man I’d grown to love. “We’ll be okay. Don’t you waste energy worrying about us.”
I knew what he was going to say because he’d been telling me for months. Like the planner he was, he had ensured his uncle would watch out for Grady, Fi, and me. If anything went wrong before Declan got out of prison, I was to call Conall immediately. It was Colin’s way of ensuring that his family would be protected long after he was gone.
He lifted a thin hand and slid a bony finger down my nose. I didn’t know if the gesture was meant to comfort him or me, but tears stung my eyes. He nodded once, settling back onto his mountain of pillows, and gripped my hand with both of his.
“I know you will.” He swallowed roughly. “I want you to know that one of my biggest mistakes is not seeing what was happening. I’ll go to my grave regretting not looking harder. Not stopping my son from—”
“No,” I snapped, shaking my head wildly. “Don’t you dare! I didn’t want anyone to know. I hid what was happening as much as Dusty did. It’s my fault, not yours.”
“Do not ever say those words again,” he hissed. “What happened was not your fault.”
I’d never forget the look of pure horror on Colin’s face when he walked into the hospital room that night. One look at me and his entire body deflated, yet his eyes burned with the need to resurrect the dead just to kill him again.
“You could not have helped me.” I stared hard into his eyes as I spoke.
Colin Callaghan was not a man that most people looked in the eye. Half the time I avoided it simply because I felt as if he could see straight into my soul and read my darkest fears. But I needed him to pay attention to the words I was saying—to really hear me.
“I didn’t know how to ask for help. For a long time, it was a slap here, a punch there, and I really thought that one day he’d realize what he was doing and stop. I thought that once his life got less stressful, once Declan had moved away, he’d stop. Then…” I bit my lip, my thoughts drifting to Mark. “Then things changed, and Dustin…” I couldn’t find the words to explain that Dustin had suddenly turned into a monster I’d never expected him to be. “I didn’t want you to know. So I did what I could to hide it. That’s on me.”
“You’re so strong, Little One. Always have been. My grandson is lucky to have you.” His eyes moved to the baby before moving back to me. “I see so much of your dad in you.”
The words made me sit a little taller and meet his bright blues straight on again. “Really?”
The corners of his lips turned up slightly. “Yes, really. I know we don’t ever talk about him, but he was my first friend, the best friend I’ve ever had. He called me the day he found out that he was having a little girl, scared out of his mind. Said he didn’t know the first thing about being a da.” Colin smiled, glancing over my shoulder into a time and place I couldn’t see.
“I promised him that day”—his hand tightened over mine once more—“that I would be the best godfather I could be. That I would do whatever I could to help him raise you. I knew how great being a father was, and I knew that it would
change his life. He loved you more than anything.” His eyes moved back to mine. “He’d be so proud of the woman you’ve become.”
“I doubt that,” I mumbled, dropping my gaze to the bed. “I’m a worthless mess now. Nothing much to be proud of.”
“Gabriella!”
Colin barely raised his voice. He didn’t have to, because his presence, even in his current state of decay, was large enough to speak volumes. When he spoke, you stopped what you were doing and listened. Now was no different. I snapped my eyes back to his face.
“Don’t!” he sneered. “Don’t you ever think you are less than you are. When I look at you, Little One, all I see is strength.”
A tear escaped down my cheek and dropped onto our combined hands. I bit my lip to hold in the sob. “There’s nothing strong about me anymore, Colin. Maybe there used to be, but…” I shrugged, not knowing how to explain how lost I truly was. “I’m broken.”
“If that were the case, you’d have told the truth.”
I assumed he meant about Dustin’s death. “I let him go to jail for me. That’s not strength. That’s being a coward.”
“That’s not the truth I meant.” He cleared his throat. “A great man once told me that I would never know true strength until I became a parent. He was right. He also told me that loving a child who isn’t yours as much as you love the child who is is the hardest thing a parent could ever do.”
He looked toward Grady again. “I disagree. I think the hardest thing a parent will ever do is love a baby they didn’t want, a baby that was created not from love but from hatred, control, and pain. To look at that baby every day and not see the face of the man who hurt you, but instead see an innocent child who didn’t do anything wrong?
“I’ve watched you with him, Little One. You love him as much as you would if he were Declan’s. You don’t see anyone but Grady when you pick him up. That is the true sign of an amazing mother. And that is the epitome of strength.
“If you were weak, you would never have made it through what you did. And you would hate that baby. You would blame him. You would have let that piece of shit control you, and we wouldn’t be where we are today. Or you would have told the truth long ago, and Grady would have paid the price.”
Silence descended over us as I let his words sink in. I didn’t know what to say because I completely disagreed. I was a mess, yet I also knew that I would do whatever it took to be the mom Grady needed. A woman who Declan didn’t hate.
“I miss Dec,” I mumbled, changing the subject.
“Some day, Declan is going to come to claim his family.” Colin watched me thoughtfully. “You don’t have to tell anyone what happened. You can go on pretending it never did. But Declan should know the truth. You need to tell him before someone else does. Until you do, it’ll be a weight hanging over your head. I don’t want that fucker to have any control over my family. As long as Declan is in the dark, he will.”
I would have argued, explained that I knew Declan was never coming back for me, that Grady and I weren’t Dec’s responsibility. Even if, by some miracle, Declan did come home, I could never tell him. Yet I didn’t want to waste what little time we had left or break a dying man’s heart, so I stayed silent.
As if he could read my mind, Colin continued. “I guarantee it won’t change how my son feels. He will love you just as much as I love you. He will love Grady just as much as I love my grandson. You’ve been hurt enough, Little One. Trust Declan. He won’t let you down.”
Zahira’s growl jerked me back to the present. She’d picked her head up and was sniffing the air as if she was trying to figure out what was wrong. Then her ears pinned back, and she gave another low bark.
She probably smelled Declan. I didn’t think she’d given him any trouble earlier, but now that I was stressed, I was making her anxious. Poor thing.
“It’s okay, girl. It’s okay.”
Colin, as usual, had been right. Ten years ago I might not have seen it, but it was obvious now. I’d never wanted to tell Dec because it would turn his world upside down. This truth would break him. He would hate himself and maybe me. But he needed to know.
I pushed off the bed and forced myself out of my room. Zahira, taking it as a sign that it was time to investigate, jumped up and surged down the stairs in a fit of energy, barking all the way. Shit!
While she was an amazing dog and had never even snapped at Grady, she was a large boxer, and I wouldn’t put it past her to bite someone if she felt I was being threatened. I ran down behind her, screaming her name, hoping to get to her before she mauled the man I loved.
There were practically no lights on downstairs, and as I hit the bottom stair, I realized the only sound I could hear was Zahira. She wasn’t barking anymore though. No, the noise coming from her wasn’t even a growl. It was more of an intense warning. She was crouched, belly to the floor, and crawling back and forth in front of the front door, snarling. The hair on the back of my neck rose.
Something was very wrong.
Then I heard a car door slam in the driveway. Zahira’s ears pinned back as she listened, but she didn’t leave her post. I was frozen, unsure of what was happening. Headlights danced across my wall as a vehicle backed out of the drive, and without thinking, I rushed toward the window, trying to figure out who was there and what was going on.
A black car, one I’d never seen before, had stopped at the edge of my lawn, by my mailbox, and for what felt like forever, it sat there. As if the driver was watching the house. Looking for something.
Then it pulled onto the road and disappeared.
My breath was ragged as possibilities ran through my mind. It wasn’t Dec’s beat-up pickup, but was it someone who worked for him? Was it the car that had followed us last night? Or worse?
Maybe it was something completely innocent, like Jehovah’s Witnesses coming to preach, and I was overreacting. Maybe it was one of Declan’s men checking on me while he was gone. I stood where I was, staring at the road, waiting anxiously to see if they were coming back, until Zahira calmed down and stood up.
Once I was sure it was clear, I opened the door to double check the porch. As I did, a large manila envelope fell into the house. I snatched it and slammed the door then flipped the bolt.
The package was thick, obviously full of papers, but it was unaddressed. With shaking fingers, I broke the seal and lifted the flap. And my world stopped.
Someone had been watching me. Walking along the college campus. Sitting at my desk in my office. Lecturing my students. Running along the boulevard. Laughing at dinner with Grady. Sitting in the arena for one of his hockey games.
Picture after picture, I saw myself the way someone else did.
The last page was the worst. In plain, large block text, words taunted me. Fear gripped me, squeezing every ounce of breath from my lungs.
I WANT WHAT’S MINE.
This was from Mark. I knew it. He’d finally come.
I’d built a life here believing that as long as he was gone, we were safe. Fear was always in the back of my mind of course, the way a child worried about what was lurking in the dark. Even yesterday, when I realized that Declan knew where I lived, I’d been afraid that the evil bastard could find me. Now I had no doubt that he already had.
Declan had brought him here.
My mind whirled, searching for a way out. I could call Dec, tell him everything, and hope to God he was the man I needed him to be. But fear made me forget I was a rational and intelligent individual.
What if you can’t trust him? He was gone for a long time. He may not be the same. That thought came out of nowhere, planting the seed of doubt. What if I couldn’t trust Declan? Could I honestly trust anyone at this point? Was I part of the family Dec told me the Callaghans would do anything to protect? What in the hell was I supposed to do?
The answer hit me like a ton of bricks. There was only one way out. There was only one person left I could trust.
I hurried into the kitchen and grab
bed the landline phone I never used. This call was too important to put off, and I didn’t want to waste time searching for my cell.
“Litt’l One?” the deep voice answered on the second ring, just as he always did, no matter what time of day I called him.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. Each and every time I talked to Conall Callaghan, it made me miss Colin. The Irish “uncle” Dustin had once admitted he feared was the one person Colin had told me I could trust. While I’d kept in constant contact with Conall over the years, I had hoped I would never have to make this call.
“Conall?” My voice broke, and I barely kept the sob away. “I need—”
He didn’t let me finish. “I’m scheduling a flight right now,” the older man assured me. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. You and Grady are safe right now, yeah?”
Just like Colin, his distant cousin always seemed to know what I needed before I could say. And he always got right to the point. I knew that if I told him we weren’t safe, a car would be here to pick us up within ten minutes.
“I think so,” I squeaked, “but I don’t know for how long.”
“Moira? Fiona?” His Irish lilt usually made me smile, but tonight it only brought dread.
“I don’t know,” I admitted sadly.
A few hours ago, I would have sworn on a Bible that Declan was someone I could trust. That he would never let Mark get close to us. Now I felt like a fool.
Did I even know if this was Mark, or could it be one of Moira’s control tactics? If it was Mark, were Fi and Moira involved? Had they known how much power Declan had given that monster? I just didn’t know. I couldn’t tell if they were targets as well or if I was being played.
