Page 51 of Unexpected Complication

I leaned my elbows on the table, dropping my head into my hands. “I know. You need to let me talk.”

She rubbed my arm and squeezed my wrist. “I’m sorry.”

I looked up. “It’s okay. It’s just not easy.”

She scooted her chair closer and wrapped her hand around mine, repeating my words from earlier. “Tell me.”

“It was only me and my dad all my life. My mom died when I was a baby.” I blew out a huge puff of air. “My dad was a detective. He loved being a cop, and I used to love sitting on his knee while he’d tell me stories of cases he was working on.”

I smiled at her. “Both our dads were good guys, Skylar.”

She nodded and I continued. “When I was a teenager, he was working this case—a hard one, but they finally broke a big drug ring. He was due to testify in court, and he seemed anxious, which was unusual since my dad was always calm and cool. I remember how jumpy he was the weeks leading up to the trial, constantly checking on me and making sure I was home.” I snorted. “It drove me crazy since I hated being monitored like a baby. The morning he was due in court, I remember him sitting at the table playing with his pocket watch. He kept turning it over and over, then he’d open it, shut it, open it again. I asked him what was wrong, but he insisted he was just trying to remember every fact about the case so he didn’t mess up. He told me he wanted to make sure the charges against the guy would stick. He said, and I remember his words, ‘This one is dangerous—I need him off the streets.’”

“How did it go?”

“My dad never made it to court.”

“What?”

“I forgot my English paper, and it was due that morning. I had a reading period, so I ran home to get it.” I swallowed the sudden, painful lump in my throat. “When I got home, I saw his car was still in the driveway. I went inside…” I trailed off as the memory swamped me, and once again, I was back in the house, walking through the rooms, calling for him, barely noticing the mess the place was in. Then, finding him lying in the kitchen, blood all around him and one round hole in his head, his eyes open and staring.

I didn’t know I was gasping for air until I felt Skylar’s arms around my neck. I buried my head in her chest, holding her tight. “He was just lying there. There was blood. So much blood.”

“Oh, Cian,” she crooned. “How awful.”

I let her closeness soothe me for a few minutes, keeping her warmth clutched to me. She ran her hand up and down my back, stroking my neck until my breathing was under control. When she sat down, she wrapped both her hands around mine, holding tight. “What happened next?”

I shook my head. “I’m not going into day-by-day details. I can’t.”

“Just tell me what you can.”

“After the funeral, my uncle told me I could live with him. He was only ten years older than I was—a really cool guy. He and my dad got along great, even though there was such a huge age gap and I thought of him more like a brother than an uncle. I always enjoyed his visits. From what I understand, he was a bit of a surprise to my grandparents.”

She grinned. “I suppose so.”

“He quit his job and came here to live so I could finish school, and he looked after me. He said I was all he had left.” I shrugged. “I guess he was all I had left too.”

“He sounds great.”

“He is.”

“You’re still in contact with him?”

“Skylar, Sean is my uncle.”

She gaped at me, then smiled. “Well, that makes a lot of sense, actually. He does fuss over you like a dad. The two of you get along very well.”

I snorted. “Not always. I was angry after my dad died. They told me it was a home invasion, but I knew they were lying. My dad was too nervous about that trial—too much on edge. The coincidence was too great. But I was shut down every time I tried to do something or talk to someone. Even Sean shut me down. I started drinking and hanging out with the wrong crowd, getting into trouble a lot. Sean and I argued all the time.” I sighed. “I put him through so much bullshit.”

“You were in mourning.”

“I was. I was angry too. And the anger got worse as the time passed. I felt my dad’s murder was being ignored. I couldn’t even find out what case he’d been working on. Nobody would tell me anything.”

“You were a kid, Cian. I’m sure they were trying to protect you.”

“I know that now. Back then, I didn’t.”

“What did you do?”