We sit in silence while we finish eating. Every few minutes, I look up and catch his eyes on me. I finish eating first and drink the rest of my wine.
“You have a fight coming up. If I remember correctly, you eat healthy before fights. I imagine spaghetti is not on your diet.”
He chuckles and shakes his head.
“It’s not—this was for you. No more carbs for me after tonight.”
Motioning to the bed, he says, “Take a spot on the bed and we can talk.”
I sit on the bed with my legs crossed. Killian grabs my wine glass, refills it, and sets it on the end table beside me before getting onto the bed beside me.
I turn to him and wait for him to tell me his reasons for what he did to me. He takes in a breath and releases it slowly.
“You know what happened to Carter, but Knox and I were obviously the same age. When we found him, it was really difficult. My mom was falling apart, and Knox was struggling too. I’m not sure how it happened, but at some point I decided I was the caretaker—the protector. Our mom was lost from the moment they snatched Carter. She was a wonderful mom, but she was distraught. I was five years old when I started making sure Knox had food to eat. And once Carter got out of the hospital, he was scared all the time. I promised to protect him—my mom warned me about holding on too tight, but I couldn’t listen. I was obsessed with protecting him at all costs.”
He drags his hand down his face before whipping his shirt off.
“Sorry, I’m hot.”
Yes, he is and I kind of hate that he knows it.
“Anyway, Carter brought you home, and I was terrified because I thought you were going to hurt him. I was sure of it, and that’s why I couldn’t see you as anything other than a threat, even after I realized I wanted you so much. I called my buddy and told him about you. So much time had passed, and I heard nothing, so when I realized I had made a mistake, I did nothing because I thought it wasn’t taken seriously. Had I known, we would’ve gone somewhere else. I would’ve kept you safe. I’m so fucking sorry, baby.”
He turns slightly, and I spot something on his chest that wasn’t there before. I reach out and touch the purple rose on his skin, covering his heart.
“This is new.”
It’s a single purple rose with blood dripping from the thorns and the words ‘Living without you is my punishment.’
He hangs his head down, defeat written all over his face as he speaks, his voice is drenched with sadness.
“Every day I went to that spot where I thought I watched you die. I placed one purple rose where your blood stained the grass. After a few weeks, I got this ink because it was a painful reminder of what I did to you. I wanted to remember because I didn’t deserve to forget.”
He’s quiet, seeming to give me a moment to process his words. It’s a lot. I try to imagine Killian and Knox at three years old watching as their brother was taken. They were so little to go through something so traumatic. I can only imagine that every day was gut-wrenching, not knowing if they would ever see Carter again. I stare at Killian, thinking of the little boy who felt responsible for taking care of his family and can’t help but notice the way it has continued into adulthood.
“I’m sorry you went through that in your childhood. Nobody should endure that. I understand that you were protecting him, or at least thought you were, but I don’t know how to forget what happened between us. And I don’t know how to trust you.”
He strokes his fingers down my face. His touch is gentle, a complete contrast to the man I know.
“I’m not asking for your trust, Killer. I just want time with you. Maybe trust comes later. Maybe it doesn’t. You don’t owe me a goddamn thing, but I’m desperate for time—before it’s too late.”
I know without asking that he’s referring to the fight. I’m not sure exactly what’s going to happen, but I do know someone is going to die—for me to live—without abuse.
I’ve been so angry with him and promised myself I’d never stop hating him, stuffing him into the same box I put Jedediah in. After hearing why he did it, listening to the regret in his voice, it suddenly feels unfair. None of these brothers escaped their childhood without trauma. Carter's the most obvious, but Killian and Knox endured something terrible too. Maybe his brothers were right when they said I only knew one side of him. Chewingon my bottom lip, I contemplate if I should give him any kind of second chance. If it weren’t for him, that night would not have happened. But then, if it weren’t for him, I’d still be in an asylum.
“I can’t offer you any guarantees for the future, but I’ll give you time. Maybe I can’t forget what you did to me, but I don’t think I can forget what you didfor meeither.”
A tear rolls down his cheek as he presses his forehead to mine.
“Thank you, Killer. Jesus Christ, I was so wrong about you. Knox was right. You are a fucking treasure.”
Pulling back, I tilt my head at him with a smirk on my face.
“Who are you and what did you do with the asshole?”
He presses his hands to my face and kisses my forehead softly.
“I’m still an asshole, baby. That will never change, but I’ll never hurt you or my brothers the way I did before. I will protect all of you—with my life.”
