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He carried her through the front entrance of the lobby. The security guards nodded to him, allowing him to pass by without an interrogation. Boss had them on his payroll. Some nights Killian would come home with blood on his clothes, his weapons exposed, but he never had to worry about being reported.
“This place looks expensive,” she said.
Killian was used to the best. Demanded it. After living the first half of his life in dire poverty, he enjoyed the finer things, including the penthouse suite with a view of the downtown core. “It is.”
When he got to his suite, he managed to get the door open without putting June to her feet. He knew her injuries were minor or he else he would have treated her immediately. It was still way too close for his liking. She could have easily been seriously injured … or killed. He would never have been able to live with himself if she died because of his lifestyle.
He settled June down on one of his leather sofas and then turned on the lights. Killian was a fucking mess. He shrugged off his jacket and removed his handguns, placing them on the bar.
“You’ve got a flesh wound there, sweetheart. I don’t know if that hitman was the world’s worst shot, or just sending me a message.” He sat on the coffee table in front of the sofa with his first aid kit. Boss didn’t permit his men to use public doctors
or hospitals—too many questions. Killer of Kings had their own underground doctors on call twenty-four, seven. For non-emergencies, they were responsible for their own medical care, including things like broken ribs and flesh wounds. Killian’s emergency supplies were always well stocked.
He helped June get her sweater off. She cringed, moving her arm out of the sleeve in slow increments. “I can’t believe I was shot,” she said. “Why would someone want to shoot me?”
“Because I love you, and whoever did this wanted to hurt me. It’s the reason my boss doesn’t like any of us getting involved in serious relationships. That hasn’t gone too well for him lately, considering I’m the third guy this year to put a woman first.”
“Is that what you call this? Putting me first?” she asked.
He examined her upper arm. The bullet had just grazed her flesh, and he was thankful it hadn’t been worse. “From now on, you and my son are number one.” Killian used a disinfectant wipe around the area, and then dressed the wound. Her skin was fucking soft.
“And who is your boss exactly? I mean, what are you?”
Now that her wound had been tended, he couldn’t help but notice the rest of June. She’d been wearing just a pink sports bra under her sweater, her big tits barely contained. Ten years ago she’d been a lot smaller, young and naïve. Now she’d filled out into a real woman, with a feistiness that kept him in check.
“I work for an organization called Killer of Kings. My job, it’s complicated.”
She struggled up into a sitting position, so he helped her, supporting her back. June did a visual sweep of the room. “It obviously pays well. What are you, a hitman?”
He licked his lips. She’d just been teasing, but her guess was spot on. Killian was terrified June would push him away, want nothing to do with him if she knew the truth. But he couldn’t lie. Not anymore.
“Yeah, something like that.”
She narrowed her eyes, then shook her head. “That’s not possible. You’re lying again.”
“Not this time, baby. I told you lies before because I had nothing good in my life, nothing to be proud of. You were a fantasy, so I conjured up what you wanted to hear.”
“You don’t know what I wanted to hear. What I wanted was the truth. Maybe if you had of been honest instead of telling me you were this straight A college boy, I wouldn’t have been raising Killian alone for the past ten years.”
“So if I told you I was born to a whore, raised on the streets, and fought and stole to survive, you’d be okay with it? What about getting hired by Killer of Kings when I moved over from Ireland, murdering people for a living? Would you still want me then?” He felt like a cornered dog, bristling but also embarrassed. He didn’t want June to judge him.
She kept quiet, staring at him with no hint of what she was feeling on the inside. Was there any chance she could love him again?
****
June didn’t know what to say, what to think. Killian had told her the truth this time, she just knew it. Besides, who would make up such wicked lies? She wanted to hate him, not just for abandoning her all these years, but for what he represented. He was a bad guy, a criminal, and he’d brought a whirlwind of danger into her life. Into her son’s life.
But she loved him, completely and unconditionally. It pissed her off that she was turned on by the visual of Killian with guns in his hands. It was such a natural look for him. He’d aged like a fine wine, exuding strength and confidence. He could protect her, care for her, love her. It was all she’d prayed for all these years.
“Killian, you’re the only man I’ve ever loved. I’ve never forgotten you. How could I? Your son has been a constant reminder. Even though I’d given up faith the past few years, part of me still hoped you come for me.”
“I fucked up, but I promise I’ll make things right. For the three of us.” He got down to his knees and put his head on her lap. It was a vulnerable moment, this grown man, this killer, still a damaged boy on the inside. “Please, June. Just tell me you’ll give me that chance. I have nothing else. I want nothing else.”
She ran her hands through his hair, still in shock he was back in her life. So many scenarios had played in her head over the years from Killian being dead to being happily married.
“Why now, Killian? Why did you wait this long before coming back? I’ve never moved from town, so it’s not like you couldn’t find me.”
“I thought I was doing the right thing. I’m a hitman for hire. You deserved better than that. Fuck, I wanted to be that college boy—for you. But I never even finished elementary school. I’m a fuck-up, but I promise no one will ever love you more than me.”
