Not on my watch.
“I messed up,” I whisper. “And I don’t know how to fix it.”
His eyes narrow. “What’d you do?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say I fucked up trying to protect her, but I stop myself. That’s another excuse, and that in itself is part of the problem.
“I didn’t show up when it mattered.” I swallow hard, and everything comes out in a guilty rush. “I could have gotten her number from my son and followed up on why she never texted me. I could have found an opportunity to talk to her discreetly that wouldn’t have put her in danger for being seen with me. But instead, I hurt her, left her thinking I abandoned her. And I don't know how to fix it besides keep showing up until she believes I'm not going to abandon her.”
Killian adjusts his grip on his bag and gazes off into the horizon. “I’ve spent the better part of my life trying to protect Kiara. Did you know that when she was eleven, I found her fifty feet off the ground clinging to a rock wall because she saw a nest hanging over a ledge, and thought it was going to fall?”
My stomach twists automatically, picturing it. Preparing to catch my reckless mate when she inevitably falls even though it’s nothing but a memory.
“And when I told her to get down,” Killian continues, chuckling humorlessly, “she just… jumped. Fully confident I’d catch her without a single worry that she might break her neck. Fifteen years old, and I damn near had a heart attack. Couldn’t sleep for a week after, either. I laid awake at night jumping at every little sound, thinking she’d sneak off and get into trouble the second I let my guard down and break her neck because I wasn’t there to catch her.”
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“Because all I want is for Kiara to be happy, and despite my best efforts, she hasn’t been for a really long time.” His face softens, staring at the sunrise warming the city. “My sister is… different. And people don’t appreciate that that is exactlywhyshe’s special, and far too good for this world. If there’s even a chance that you see her for who she truly is and love her the way she deserves, I’m not about to let something as stupid as poor communication stand in the way.”
He turns his focus back to me with newfound determination, a stubbornness that clearly runs in the family. “After the debacle at the fundraiser, it’s obvious she needs more than me out here, as much as I wish otherwise. So the best way to protect her is to support the people she lets close enough to help and pray you’ll fight for her the way I would.”
My chest feels abnormally tight. “Whatfundraiser debacle?”
Kiara’s brother gives me the abridged version of the shitstorm of their night out, and I feel like I'm going to be sick, or on a murder spree. Maybe both, the day’s still young.
Killian’s right. I tried to give her space, but all that’s done is make things worse. She needs me to grovel? I’ll do it up close and personal.
But I’m not going to let my mate put herself in danger again just because she hates me.
Chapter 32
Kiara
“What the hell? Why wasn’t I invited to this slumber party?” Devlin asks, frowning.
“Because… it’s not one?” I look between Stryker and Zayd, currently relaxing on the mattresses they dragged into the exam room we converted to a bedroom, watching a show on Stryker’s laptop.
“Pajamas, TV, snacks… looks like a slumber party to me,” Dev declares adamantly, hurt threading his voice as he sets two hefty bags on the exam table.
Aaaaaand now I feel like shit, even though I didn’t do anything wrong.
“I told you I was staying here for a while, remember?”
He frowns. “Did not.”
“Did too! When you came over to stay with Z while I went with my brother to the fundraiser.”
Recognition lights up his face. “Yeah, that tracks. I was zeroed in on memorizing your instructions to keep your pet alive and reorganizing your closet. When I hyperfixate, other things don’t stick in my brain well. My bad.” Snagging a few fries, hepasses me one in apology. “So! Remind me why we’re camping out here instead of your place?”
Z steals a fry out of the bag. “ThisisKiara’s place now. She’s selling the house.”
I’ve never seen Devlin so unabashedly excitedbefore.
“You’re homeless?” Face alight, he shoves the bags of dinner at Z and throws me over his shoulder. “Perfect!”
Glancing at Zayd, he whistles and pats his thigh. “Come on boy.”
Snapping his teeth at him, Z snatches up the food and slips his shoes on. “Not a fucking dog.” But he still follows.
