Killy remained quiet a moment too long. “I’ll deal with Gus later. Ready to go?”
What? Panic gripped Mike in an iron fist. “I… I can’t face anyone right now. And won’t they be waiting outside the hotel?”
“Don’t you worry about that. I had Jake call and get us another room even Gus doesn’t know about. The vultures can wait all they want, but we won’t be here.” Killian pressed his forehead to Mike’s. “I am so, so sorry. I’d still like to find the sonofabitch and rip him a new asshole.”
“Okay. But please, I can’t deal with anything more tonight.”
Killy brushed his lips over Mike’s. “You won’t have to. I promise.”
A decoy limo leaving the hotel drew notice, enough so no one paid attention when two men exited the building and crawled into a waiting Uber.
Mike laid his head back. What an awful night. Couldn’t they write and play without all the drama?
The hotel Killian booked was old, but clean, and better than a lot of places Mike had slept over the years, though a far cry from the room he’d vacated.
Which meant he liked it. A lot. The room came complete with Killian Desmond.
“I’m going to go get us something to eat.” Killian stood in the open doorway. “I’ll be right back.”
Mike sat on the bed, propped against the headboard. Would those horrid questions stay in the broadcast for all to hear? Would his family see the interview?
He pulled out his phone and selected a contact he hadn’t used in years. The phone rang twice before a man’s voice answered. “Rose residence.”
Killy’s heart fell. Why couldn’t his mother or one of his brothers answer?
Should he hang up? Unleash years of hurt? “Hey, Preacher,” he finally said.
“Michael?”
“Yeah, it’s me.” Mike prepared for his heart to be ripped out all over again.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done to your family?”
“What?”
“Despite my objections, they watched the broadcast tonight. You’ve given them quite a shock.”
Years of hurt and anger bubbled up to the surface. “Me? I gave them a shock? Why? Because you told my brothers I was dead? Because my mother, my own mother, turned her back on me? Tell me, did the neighbors bring casseroles, pat you on the shoulder and sympathize? Did they pray over you? Did you bury an empty casket?”
Silence.
“You did, didn’t you?” Mike huffed out a breath. How had he ever listened to a word this man said? “You lied. It’s not like you to pay for something you didn’t have to, but you paid for my fucking funeral just to save face.”
“You watch your language!”
Mike barked out a laugh. “Why? I’m dead! Who cares what I do?” How ironic. He and Killian, both rumored to have died. Surprise!
“Your brothers! You abandoned them. Now you deliberately subject them to ridicule.”
“Aren’t you the one who told me you reap what you sow? You lied. Deliberately. Tell me, has my mother ever forgiven you? You must’ve done some groveling, ‘cause you don’t dare let her walk away and take my brothers with her. They make you too much money. I never intended for the reporters to ask those questions, but at least I told the fucking truth! And I didn’t desert my brothers. You forbid me to see them.” And he’d been too overwrought at the time to put up much of a challenge.
Reverend Rose snorted into the phone. “You mean to tell me you didn’t have someone call my business line, warning me what was about to happen?”
“What? What do you mean? I didn’t put anyone up to anything.” A man who’d told his entire flock about Mike’s fake death likely didn’t even flinch at telling lies now.
“Oh, yes you did.”
A distinct shuffling sounded in the background, bringing to mind the mass of papers on his stepfather’s desk.
