“That can be arranged.” This threat comes from the broad-shouldered man with a solid build who’s more sheer bulk than sculpted muscle. He’s also sporting a thick beard and mustache that matches his wavy, ginger hair.
My breathing is so shallow I’m afraid I’m going to pass out.
“Whoa!” Killian suddenly steps between Sandro and the two armed men. “Stand the fuck down. What’s going on here?”
The men are staring at Killian. They slowly lower their weapons.
“Aye, brother, you tell us,” the tall, lanky one says, frustration coloring his tone. Their expressions have morphed from deadly intent to confusion.
Sandro lowers his gun as well.
I’m having an out-of-body experience.
Killian motions to Sandro behind him. “He’s a friendly, Bran.” He slides his narrowed gaze to the larger man. “What the fuck are ya doin’ here, Sully?”
He scrubs a hand over his beard, his dark brown eyes flick to the man beside him and then back to Killian. “You didn’t check in. Da thought the worst.”
Killian scrubs his head with both palms. “Christ. Give me a second, yeah?” He steps aside and motions to us. “Boys, meet Sandro LaRocca and,” he peers around Sandro to catch my eye, “and our half-sister, Lennon.”
I step out from behind Sandro on jelly legs. His arm shoots out in front of me to stop me, but my fear is morphing into anger. I’m so tired of men pointing guns at me. “You are all brothers? Nice way to introduce yourselves.”
Without warning, Sandro takes one step forward and throws his fist into Bran’s face. The crack is deafening as it echoes in the garage.
Chaos breaks out again as there’s shouting and guns once again raised.
I stumble back a few steps.
Killian wraps a strong, steadying arm around my shoulder. “You’re grand, Lennon. They’ll work it out.”
“Fuck, mate,” Bran laughs. Blood is dripping from his already swelling nose. He spits another gob of blood onto the concrete and holds up a hand to Sully, who’s face is flushed with anger. “Stand down.” He lifts the collar of his shirt beneath the bulletproof vest and presses it against his nose.
I’m breathing hard, expecting them to shoot Sandro any second.
Sandro’s voice is calm as he growls, “That’s for scaring the shit out of Lennon.”
A dark chuckle escapes Bran’s throat. “Fair, mate.” He glances at me and nods. “Sorry we scared you, love.”
What is happening right now?
He holds out his hand to me. “Name’s Brandon, but everyone calls me Bran. I look forward to getting to know you, Lennon. So does Da.”
I step out of Killian’s hold and cross my arms, not ready to play nice. The adrenaline dump has left me feeling weak and confused. I don’t like it. “Why would you think I want anything to do with your world or your father? My mother hid me from him for a reason. To keep me safe. Why would I change that now?”
Bran drops his hand and grins at me. “Now I see the resemblance.”
Killian knocks him in the chest with the back of his hand.
Something in his words brings it home for me. Makes it real. These two men are my biological family. Their father is my father. My knees buckle. I almost pass out as the implication hits me that I now have a father. A father. Who’s alive. And a mob boss.
“Whoa.” Sandro wraps an arm around my waist. “Easy, Angel. Let’s get you in the car.”
Killian’s voice is far away as he tells his brothers he’ll call them later.
We’re in one of the Range Rovers and Sandro’s driving. Killian’s in the backseat. It’s a silent ride, and I feel like they’re giving me space to process. I know I should be thinking about my new family and what it means to have three brothers and a father. But all I can think about is the time I’ve just spent with Sandro and how bittersweet it is.
How am I going to let him go? How do you let the love of your life go?
Maybe you don’t. Maybe I’ll never be in love again, and I’ll just have to accept that. Accept that I’ll be alone for the rest of my life. Would that be so bad? Yes. Yes, it would. It’s pathetic. Maybe I should get a cat. Or six.
