by Carina Adams
“You still can’t see it—how she played you against your brother constantly?”
“That’s not what happened.” I pointed at her. “If you think it is, Dustin manipulated you.”
“You’re still so blind where she’s concerned.” She huffed. “Even after all this time? After you wasted years in prison for her?”
“I went to prison because that’s what you do when you commit a crime.”
“It’s just you and me here, Declan. Save your breath and your bullshit lies. I don’t want to hear them.”
I’d trained myself to let accusations about Dustin’s death wash over me, to ignore them even when my body and mind wanted to react. However, it had never been my own mother implying that I was being less than honest. My heart pounded, and my mind wandered to Gabby, desperate to protect her from the monster in front of me.
“Don’t look so surprised,” Moira muttered, waving in dismissal.
I ran my tongue over the front of my teeth and took a deep breath before wading into unknown territory. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to say, but I don’t like where this is going.”
“Of course you don’t.” She lifted a shoulder carelessly. “And I’m insulted that you actually believed I didn’t know.”
Of course she did. I felt like an idiot. Moira had a way of knowing everything. “How long?”
She braced her hands on the counter and leaned her head toward me. “Since the day Gabby shot him.”
I forced out a chuckle even though there was nothing remotely amusing about this situation. Layer upon layer, lie upon lie. That was what my family was—people who lied to the world and to each other, all hiding their secrets behind a flawless façade.
I crossed my arms. “Why?”
Moira tipped her head slightly, her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Why didn’t we tell you I knew? Because we thought you could beat the charges. The less people who knew what really happened, the better.” She sighed. “Dustin was dead the minute he attacked her, he just didn’t know it. If Gabby hadn’t gone through with it, he would have killed her. You would have found him, no matter where he hid, and you would have butchered him. If, by some miracle, you hadn’t, Fi would have pulled the trigger. If she hadn’t, it would have been your father.”
I shook my head. “Dad never would have killed him.”
Moira laughed as if that was the funniest thing she’d ever heard before her mouth puckered. “Do you know how many times I had to beg your father to keep him alive?” She shook her head once, looking over my shoulder and out the window into the pitch black. “Each time I would promise that I would keep a better eye on him, that I would get him help. And every time, I knew it was only a matter of time before I buried him.”
She licked her lips, looking back at me. “No, Dustin had to die. He’d become a monster. The things he did…” She glanced away again, shaking her head and swallowing roughly. “The pain he caused was unforgivable. He almost killed my grandson. If he had, I would have ended him myself.”
It would be so easy to mock her, to tell her how I doubted she’d ever make a move against her perfect son, the golden child. I couldn’t bring myself to do it though. The woman in front of me wasn’t lying. She wasn’t playing an angle or trying to manipulate me. This was a mother mourning the loss of a child she couldn’t save.
There was still so much I didn’t understand. “If you knew Dusty was a ticking time bomb, why blame Mark? Why not let Dustin’s problems die with him?”
“Is that what you think we did?” Her entire face scrunched up, her head shaking as she surveyed me. “Your father always said that you were blind where Mark was concerned.”
“Mark is family. My mother taught me you never turn your back on blood.”
“Dustin was your blood. He was your brother.” The pain was clear in her voice. “After everything they’ve done, as a team, how can you possibly defend Mark? How could you forgive one for his actions, but not the other?”
The answer was simple. “Gabby.”
My mother’s mouth fell open, and she looked at me as though I’d lost my mind. Her eyes grew wide, and she lifted a hand to her heart. “You don’t know.” She narrowed her eyes. “How is that possible?”
I tipped my head toward the ceiling, begging for divine intervention. I couldn’t handle her riddles anymore; I just didn’t have the patience. “How is what possible, Mother? What is so important that no one felt the need to tell me before now?”
Before she could answer, the door opened. “Ms. Callaghan?” Tank didn’t wait for a reply, striding across the room and holding a phone out to her.
Moira didn’t question him but took the phone. “This is Moira.” Her entire demeanor changed in a matter of seconds. She jerked in surprise. “Conall?” Her eyes slid to me before she turned around and walked away.
Conall? Why would my uncle Conall be calling her? He had no use for Moira, and she couldn’t stand him.
I took a few steps toward her, trying to eavesdrop, even though she was keeping her voice down.
“When?” She glanced over her shoulder. Something was wrong. “No.” She turned back around. “I took care of it earlier. They’re there now.” More silence. “It couldn’t have been him. He’s with me.”
I didn’t know if she was talking about me or Tank, but I didn’t have a good feeling about it. Minutes dragged by and she didn’t make a sound. I had all I could do to keep myself from walking over to her and ripping the phone from her hands.
I had decided to do just that when she ended the call with, “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“What was that about?” I demanded before she’d even turned all the way around.
Instead of acknowledging me, she stared at her bodyguard. I didn’t like the look that passed between them.
I was missing something. “Where are the goons, Ma? The ones you always have by your side.”
Her eyes darted to Tank and back to me. “They’re with Fiona.”
I straightened, standing up taller. Grady was with Fiona.
“There was an incident earlier today, and she called me, worried. I sent them to stay with her.”
Incident? I’d talked to Fi a few hours ago. Everything had been fine. She’d tell me if it wasn’t. Wouldn’t she? What reason could she have to keep something like that from me?
Fi had been the one to insist I come here to talk to our mother. She’d told me to leave—fuck!
Gabby. I’d left Gabby alone. But she was safe. No one knew where she was—my enemies wouldn’t come after her.
Moira shifted uncomfortably under my gaze.
“What kind of incident?” I asked.
“It’s being handled. Fiona and Grady are with my team. They’re safe now.”
It was the words she didn’t say that turned my blood to ice. “Gabby?”
Moira tensed. “I don’t know anything, Dec. Just relax.”
Wrong fucking thing to say. She knew what was going on; she just wasn’t telling me. I was so fucking sick of this family’s half-truths and veiled honesty. Something wasn’t right—I could feel it.
Moira hollered after me as I handed my glass to Tank and hurried to the door, but I didn’t hear a word. I wouldn’t have listened if I had. I was too focused on Gabby. All that mattered was getting to her.
Chapter Nineteen
Gabby
Almost an hour had passed, and Fi still hadn’t called me back. When I called her, I was sent directly to voicemail. I’d spent the majority of the hour rationalizing, convincing myself they’d gone to a late movie instead of a matinee and they couldn’t hear the phone, or that Fi had left it at home by mistake. With each passing minute, my fear grew.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. I felt as though the last two days had been filled with intended coincidences—like someone was one step ahead of me and pulling the strings.
Had I run into Declan by accident? Maybe. Maybe Not.
Either way, the past two days had been f
illed with a series of events that had scared me and left me feeling as though I had no control. I detested that feeling. Abusers wanted you to feel helpless because it gave them the upper hand.
Mark had no control here unless I gave it to him. So why was I handing it over without a fight? I stood, pissed off at myself, and headed for the door. I’d just plucked the keys from the bowl next to the door when I heard the low rumble of an engine.
Stepping carefully up to the window, my breath caught as headlights barreled toward my house then lit the wall over my head as the truck swerved into my drive. Backing up, I reached for the can of wasp spray, still clutching my cell, and knew I was on my own. No one could get to me in time.
Before I had a chance to make a plan, the door handle wiggled as whoever was on the other side tried to get in. Then the door rattled on its hinges as a giant fist beat on it.
“Gabby!” Declan’s voice was frantic but didn’t hold even the slightest hint of a threat. Did he know what was going on with Fi and Grady?
I dropped the spray can, flipped the bolt, and yanked open the door. Dec surged in, and his arms wrapped around me tightly as he lifted me off the floor and pulled me against him. He set me down just as quickly, pushing me against the wall as his hands moved up to cup my cheeks. He stared down at me.
“Are you okay?” Before he gave me a chance to answer, he dropped his hands and started to probe and poke at me. “Jesus, Gabs, tell me you’re okay!”
I batted his hands away, trying to step back. “Declan,” I yelled, bringing him out of whatever trance he was in. “What is going on?”
“Jesus!” He swore, pulling my head toward his, and leaned his forehead against mine. “I was so fucking scared. I didn’t know what I’d find…” He pushed his lips against mine.
It surprised me. For a moment, just a few seconds, I let him devour me. The way his teeth nipped at my bottom lip before his tongue rubbed the pain away was a welcome distraction. My hands found their way into his hair, pulling him close. For those glorious few seconds, I forgot the world.
Keeping me pinned against the wall, he stared into my eyes. “You’re really okay?”
I frowned, completely confused. If I’d woken up in another dimension, I’d probably have a better grasp on reality than I did at that moment. “I don’t know. I woke up and you were gone, then strange things happened, and now I can’t reach Fi. Why can’t I reach Fi?”
He shook his head, his brow wrinkling in puzzlement. “I don’t know. I spoke to her earlier.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and, after pressing a few buttons, held it to his ear. Seconds later, he stabbed at it, looking at me. “It went straight to voicemail.”
He dialed another number and lifted the phone again. I heard a woman answer, but Dec didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “I can’t reach Fi.”
I couldn’t make out what she said, but whatever it was made him visibly relax.
He nodded. “I’m with Gabby now. Can you text me the number?” I studied him closely as he spoke, thanking the woman, then hung up.
He took two steps back, kicked my front door shut, then held out a hand. I put mine in his and let him lead me back into my living room and over to my couch.
“Fi and Grady are fine,” he assured me as he sank into the cushions next to me. His phone beeped, and he shot me a smile. “Perfect timing.” Tapping a few things on his screen, he handed the phone to me. “Here, talk to your kid.”
It was still ringing as I held it to my ear, but Fi answered it seconds later.
“I don’t want you to panic,” she said in a rush, making me panic.
“Fi!” I almost screamed, relieved to hear her voice. “What is going on?”
“Gabby?” It took a second, but she recovered quickly. “I’m not even sure. Grady and I went to the movies, and when we got out, I had a flat tire. I called Mom, because I didn’t want to bother you, and I thought if we had to wait for AAA, she might as well join Grady and me for dinner. But she was in a meeting, so she sent Stephan.”
I felt better instantly. Stephan was Moira’s personal bodyguard and had been with her since we moved down here. He was smaller than most men in his profession, but ten times more intimidating. Unless you were Grady. Then you just saw a man who would let you ramble on for hours without getting upset. Stephan was more than hired help—he was family. And the only grandfather figure Grady had.
“When he got here, I’d already called for a tow, but he wanted to see if he could change it himself and save us some time. Someone had slashed it, Gabby. And when the tow truck showed up, it wasn’t from the company that was supposed to be coming. When the driver saw Stephan, he took off. Stephan insisted on driving us to the safe house because he said he had a bad feeling.
“No big deal, ya know? The man is paranoid. I knew he’d check out the house and come get us and we’d be home before you knew it. If all of that hadn’t been enough to make me worry though, the house had been broken into.
“When Stephan got there, the girls were running wild in the yard. He almost didn’t catch them both.” Emotion made her voice heavy. Her dogs were her children. “So Mom has us holed up here, the guys all with us, and they took my phone because they said it could be traced.
“Jesus! It’s not like we’re spies or some shit, but after today, you’d think we were.” Fi sighed. “Grady is fine. I swear to you, he doesn’t have a clue what’s going on. He thinks it’s fun.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “I’ve been calling you nonstop, Fi, worried sick! Why in the hell didn’t you call me to let me know what was going on?”
“I did. I’ve been calling you for hours! You haven’t picked up.”
What? I walked over to where I’d dropped my phone and lifted it off the floor. There wasn’t a single missed call.
Grady got on the line next and told me all about the movie they’d gone to see and how he excited he was that Stephan was spending the night. I listened to his happy chatter, unable to keep the smile off my face. He was with Fi and a group of men who would all kill to protect him, completely safe. I almost felt foolish for worrying so much earlier.
Almost.
After we said good night, Grady put Fi back on and I handed Dec’s phone back to him before I headed to the kitchen to brew coffee. The two of us needed to talk. Really talk. I felt better when he was here, but so much had been left unsaid. And I didn’t know if I could trust him anymore. I had a feeling we’d need something stronger than Dunkin’s dark roast before the night was over.
The pot was half full when Dec leaned against the counter, watching me closely. “I’m worried about you.”
I tipped my head, my heart aching. “I’m fine. Really.”
He gave me a look that clearly conveyed he didn’t believe me. “What happened earlier?”
I opened my mouth then snapped it shut, not sure which event he was talking about.
As if he understood my confusion, he added, “I know what happened to Fi and Grady. My mother is under the impression that something went down here.” He crossed the room to me in just a few steps. “Let me in. Let me help you.”
I scraped my bottom lip with my teeth and shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Declan let out a frustrated growl, running his hands through his hair as if he didn’t believe me.
“I really don’t, Dec. I woke up and thought you were here. Zahira started to bark, and there was a strange car parked out front, so I thought it was someone who worked for you.” I paused for a second, realizing that once again, Zahira hadn’t done as much as woofed in Declan’s direction since he got here.
“It wasn’t,” he assured me, taking advantage of my break. “Do you know what kind of car it was? Did you catch the plate?”
I shook my head. “No. It was getting dark, and I’d just woken up.” And I’d been scared. “It was black. Big for a car, but definitely a car.”
“Good, that’s good.” He nodded encouragingly. “What else did you see?” When I didn’t sa
y anything else, his eyes slanted. “Who was here?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
He stared at me, and while he wasn’t accusing me of lying, he could tell I wasn’t being completely honest. “I feel like there’s this elephant in the room. Everybody can see it, everybody knows about it, but me.” His eyes bore into mine. “What am I missing, huh? It’s right here, I know it is.”
I sighed, knowing that I couldn’t avoid the rest of the story forever. I had to tell him. “I waited until the car was gone before I went outside, but”—I moved past him, into the hall, and grabbed the envelope from table—“this was on the porch.”
I sat at the kitchen table, placing the package in front of me. He immediately dropped into the chair next to me and pulled out the pictures. Slowly, he went through each one, occasionally glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, his breath getting more ragged with each photo. Until he got to the block-lettered warning on the last page.
He inhaled sharply, crumpling the paper in his fist. When he finally met my eyes, he looked at me as if he was afraid I was going to have another flashback. He was worried.
I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
He looked uncomfortable for a brief second. “Why in the fuck are you sorry? I’m the one who should be apologizing.” He crossed his arms, leaning his back against the chair. “I wasn’t here to protect you.”
I wanted to roll my eyes at his chauvinistic comment, but he was being so sincere, I couldn’t. Plus, I wanted someone to protect me. I wanted to be taken care of.
His face turned serious, almost foreboding. “The car you saw earlier—could it have been a Chrysler 300?” He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and, a few seconds later, showed me a picture. “Did it look like this?”
I stared at the car on the screen. “It could have been. It was the same shape.”
He sat up straight, bracing his forearms on the table and adjusting his long legs. He took a deep breath, turning his brilliant blues on me. “It’s Mark. That’s the piece I’m missing.” It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact.
