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“Four years . . . Christ. I still remember it all like it just . . .” Beck shifted on the bed and was silent so long I didn’t think he would continue. When he did, his tone was hesitant, as though he wasn’t sure he should say what he thought. “If you should be thankful for anything in your life, it’s that you weren’t there to see Kieran the day they lowered those two caskets in the ground. It didn’t matter that your casket didn’t hold your body. It didn’t matter that we all knew you were safe . . . hidden. You hadn’t said a word in nearly five days, and no one could get you to eat. To Kieran, you were in that casket, because the girl he loved was gone. He lost it. I have no doubt he would’ve killed every single one of us to get to the Borellos and avenge your deaths if your dad hadn’t grabbed a shovel and knocked Kieran out cold.”
My grief was momentarily replaced with shock from his words. My gaze snapped to Beck, but he wasn’t looking at me. His stare was distant as his head shook.
“I’ve seen men who have nothing left to live for, but I’ve never seen anything like that. Never seen a man lose it the way he did. He looked wild, completely out of control as if he would take the entire world down with him without blinking. But for that to be Kieran?” Beck blew out a slow breath that bordered on a whistle.
I understood why Beck was having such a difficult time grasping what had happened those years ago, even if he’d been there to witness it.
Kieran was calm. Kieran hardly reacted to anything.
He’d slit your throat with a blank expression and then walk away as though you’d just finished a pleasant conversation.
Then again, you couldn’t expect anything less of the man who’d trained to be an assassin from the day he took his first steps.
The only time I’d witnessed any form of fear and anguish from him had been on that night . . .
“Why didn’t you tell me before now?”
“What, you expected me to tell you when it happened?” He huffed. “By the time you could’ve handled knowing, there was no point bringing it back up. But now?” He hiked a shoulder up before letting it fall. “With the day here, and you waking up screaming . . . I don’t know. I guess I wanted you to know that you aren’t the only one who still struggles with what happened.”
If I hadn’t felt so physically exhausted, I would’ve laughed. But the thought of Kieran struggling with anything was still enough to make my eyes roll as I sat back so I could rub my head.
Beck sudde
nly caught my chin in his fingers, pulling me close. “Do you blame Kieran? Is that why you don’t want me to get hold of him?”
My shoulders hunched. All the air in my lungs rushed out as if his words had been a physical blow. “Of course not.”
“Because he does, Lil. Every fucking day.”
“What?” I asked, the word nothing more than a breath.
“He lost his best friend, and a huge part of the girl he loved, all because he wasn’t fast enough that night.”
“But—but Kieran hadn’t even been in the house when everything began,” I argued. “You know that! He heard—”
“It doesn’t matter. What actually happened and whatever you might say . . . it doesn’t matter to him. And to the rest of us? To your dad? It doesn’t matter that Kieran was able to save you. Nothing matters when the Borellos still killed and tried to abduct the last remaining O’Sullivan kids.”
“I know what happened, Beck,” I gritted out. “I was there.”
He grimaced, letting silence stretch between us before he gently continued. “You’re the goddamn princess of the Irish-American mob, Lil. You’re the last chance your dad has to keep O’Sullivan blood running through the Holloway Gang. We had to fake your damn death. And, yeah, you’re still here, but you’re different now. You’ve changed. I see it . . . he sees it. Because of that? Kieran’s going to blame himself for not being able to stop them that night. You can’t expect him not to.”
A flash of longing and resentment flared inside me, and I wanted to say that I wasn’t the only one who’d changed. Instead, I nodded subtly as I climbed off the bed, squeezing his hand as I did. “No, I guess I can’t. Go back to bed, Beck. Sorry I woke you.”
I turned toward the large bay window and walked over to sit on the window seat where I spent most of my time when trying to escape the world I’d been born into, or the nightmares that plagued me because of it.
I hugged one of the throw pillows close to my body and rested my head against the cool glass as I looked across the grounds toward the house I’d grown up in. The massive structure looked haunting in the grey, pre-dawn sky. My eyes automatically found the window of my old room, and their voices played through my mind again . . .
“One of the other rooms?”
“No. He said it was in here somewhere.”
“Lil?”
I glanced over my shoulder to see Beck’s brow pinched as he studied my position. “You sure you don’t want me to get him?”
“I’m sure.”
He nodded slowly, and I knew he was trying to decide whether or not to listen to me. “See you in a few hours.”
