I rushed into my bathroom and grabbed some hairpins. Kneeling on the floor, I picked the lock and turned the knob. As the door swung open, I stayed on my knees, seeing the room the same way I did as a child. Remembering every sound, every smell, every memory of my father in this room.
I hadn’t been in here since he died.
Since my brother had killed him.
I knew why he did it. I knew my father deserved it after what we’d found out. But it still fucking hurt. I still missed him despite the bastard that he was.
I stared at his desk. Papers still lay spread out. An empty glass I imagined filled with whiskey still sat on the corner. It was like he’d just gone to a meeting.
Why hadn’t Sal cleaned this out? Why was it all still here? What was my brother afraid of finding?
I reached around the door and twisted the lock. Pulling it closed, I sat on my ass and leaned against the wall beside the entrance. I wasn’t ready either. Twenty-four years had passed, and I still wasn’t ready to say goodbye to my father.
I pulled my knees up and laid my forehead against them. And I cried. For the little girl who missed her father, and for the young woman who was still so fucking angry that he’d mapped out her life without any input from her.
And I cried at the loss of the life I could have had. The one I still couldn’t grasp onto because of the mistakes I’d made. And there were many. Sleeping with Cian and keeping his daughter from him were only two of the many mistakes I’d made over the years.
Choices I’d made in my selfishness.
Choices I’d made to make my life easier without any regard to anyone else.
Choices that were still hurting the people I loved.
Chapter Four
Cian
“Have you talked to her?” Mac asked from the doorway to my office. I looked up from my computer and scowled at him. Although he and Duncan were two of my best friends, I wished they’d mind their own fucking business. Sal, on the other hand, barely spoke to me, and I wasn’t sure which was worse.
“No,” I responded, looking back at my screens.
After we came back from Mardi Gras and rescued Freyja, we’d learned of a few more names of men Tyran had convinced to betray us. So now my task was to do a deep dive into every member of the family.
“It’s been over a week.”
“I know how fuckin’ long it’s been, Mac.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorjamb. I exhaled my frustration and leaned back in my chair. Swiveling around to face him, I asked, “What?”
“Don’t you want to know why she didn’t tell you?”
“I know why. Kelley would have killed her. And if he hadn’t, Eamon would have killed me. I have to believe that her not wanting me to die a horrible death means she has some feelings toward me.”
“Of course she has fuckin’ feelings. But what about after Eamon was dead? Sal would have protected her from Kelley.”
“I would have fuckin’ protected her against Kelley,” I growled. “But I know Caity; she wouldn’t go against the church and get divorced.”
Mac shrugged. “There are other ways of ending an unwanted marriage.”
I shook my head and smirked. Ways I had dreamed about for years. And if I hadn’t been a fucking pussy and gone to Sal, well, I wanted to believe he’d sanction the hit. But Caity wouldn’t.
For years I’d been damned if I did and damned if I didn’t. But now Kelley was gone. And she couldn’t blame it on me. I was biding my time. Like I told Mac, I knew Caity. I couldn’t just expect her to forget her husband of thirty years all because I wanted her.
Caity cared about how the others saw her. She felt that as Eamon’s daughter, she was held to a higher standard, and she wasn’t completely wrong, but everyone knew the bullshit Kelley had done. No one would condemn her for moving on.
I wouldn’t fucking let them.
“He still hasn’t talked to her?” Duncan asked as he slipped past Mac and sat on the couch against the wall.
