“Do you live here?” One of them asked me, and I nodded.
“Yes. Please tell me what happened.”
“I’m sorry but the occupants inside were found deceased.”
“They can’t be dead. They just?—”
“I’m Agent Federico Cruz, with the FBI,” he said as he flashed his badge at the officer in charge.
“Why’s the bureau here?” the woman asked.
“This appears to be a contract killing?—"
“A what?” I asked.
A half hour later, I was shaking profusely and almost sorry I had even asked. As it was explained to me, certain elements pointed to organized crime families they had been investigating for years. As they’d rattled off several names I had never heard before, one of them finally made me gasp.
“...Brannington,” the man said.
Cillian. He was part of the mob? I couldn’t and didn’t want to believe it. There had been an urgency with him the night before, and a fear present that I’d never seen in him before. I thought about the way his name held power, and needing to empty my stomach one more time, I rushed to the side of the house.
By the time I returned, I was nearly in shock. “Are you okay?”
I nodded my head, knowing what they meant. My only family was gone, and the man I had just vowed to love for a lifetime might’ve been behind it, or at least his family. It madeno sense, and when I realized I could’ve rejected his proposal and been here with my mother and sister, I started to shake uncontrollably.
“Get her a blanket,” I heard the one officer say.
Before I could assure her that I was fine, another came up and placed it over my shoulders. The tears I had valiantly tried to hold in came rushing out, and I eventually crumbled to the grass below as the weight of it all sent me to my knees.
I rocked back and forth, and as I did so, I watched two body bags being carried out of the house. I didn’t want to believe it, and I almost didn’t until I saw a familiar swath of red peeking out from the zipper of one of them. I recognized it right away because it was not only the same color as Rowan’s, but my hair as well.
“I need to see her,” I said as I scrambled back onto my feet.
“We can’t allow that,” the one officer said.
“I promise I won’t touch her,” I said, although I had no idea if I could honor that or not.
“You just can’t.”
“Please,” I cried out, then looked to the others.
The FBI agent finally shook his head. “This was a violent crime, and her face is not recognizable at the moment.”
“Not recognizable? Please tell me what happened.”
“We’ll need you to come to the station anyway, so we’ll talk more there.”
They then went back to collecting evidence as I was led to a nearby bench and made to sit on it until the one officer was ready to leave. I had noticed that the Uber driver had left anyway, not that it mattered, as I was ushered into a squad car.
Two hours later, I had heard the details they could share, and they were gruesome. What my twin had experienced had been brutal. As my hand rested on my lower belly, all I could think of was how we could’ve been there with them. Cillian had to haveknown my family was at risk, yet chose to sacrifice them. It was now for the best that I hadn’t been able to tell him about our child. I was three months pregnant, and as the officer asked my name, I needed to make sure that I died along with the others. “My name’s Rowan. Rowan Coughlin.”
DUBLIN, IRELAND
Seven Years Later
My cell phone vibrated on the table beside the bed, but I ignored it. The caller was likely no one other than my grandfather, and as far as I was concerned, the damn man could wait on me. Right now, I was practically balls deep in some woman’s mouth. Janie...Jamie...No, it was Jacie...The names all blended together, and had ever since...
I forced my mind not to even go there. For the most part, I’d picked up and moved on with my life, and one that my grandfather had no problem letting me know he still controlled. Or so he thought. Whatever this pressing family business he had to go over with Kingston and me would have to wait until I reached an orgasm.
