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Boyd
Kieran watches me with a curious expression, leaning back in the leather chair I tongue-fucked his sister in not long ago, unaware of the air of depravity he’s surrounded by.
I wonder if he’d still try to give me his blessing if he knew.
He’d attempted to reassure me that he was fine with whatever is going on between Fiona and me while we stood outside her father’s office, eavesdropping on their heated conversation.
Still stuck in the phase of denial, still afraid of ruining this before it really solidifies itself, I’d refused that anything was happening with her, saying her lifelong infatuation was one-sided and noting that I’m not destined for a happily ever after.
The last part’s true, at least. Regardless of the feelings sprouting within me, my brain knows what my heart doesn’t want to acknowledge; that, in the end, Fiona doesn’t end up with a man like me. One drowning in secrets and childhood trauma, locked in a cycle of abuse with a woman who abandoned him as a child and still doesn’t want him.
Even if Riley weren’t in the picture, I know I’d still be checking up on LeeAnn, ensuring she’s still alive. Because no matter how many fucking mistakes she makes or how many times she lets me know I mean nothing to her, I can’t seem to cut the cord.
Wanting to saddle Fiona to a life of brokenness hardly seems fair, but I can’t let her go, either. Don’t even want to, selfish as it is.
I want to pour every ounce of my love into her and watch it seep from her pores.
Watch it heal her.
Not because love is the be-all and end-all, but because I think I could be the exact kind of support she needs.
And if I don’t get to keep her, I want to extend my stay as long as possible—and that means keeping her a secret from the people I don’t think truly want us together.
Especially her brother.
“Are you ready for this mission?” Kieran asks, resting his chin on his fist. “It’s been awhile since we didn’t just grab a guy from the back of a club or his bedroom in the middle of the night. You sure you’re up for it?”
“Kieran, if you’re concerned for my well-being, just ask. Don’t fake concern over my capabilities.”
He laughs, twisting the little black flash drive in his hand. It’s supposed to be collateral for the person stalking us, but the weight of its contents sits heavy on my chest.
These aren’t just Kieran’s secrets, or the assailant’s secrets. They’re the secrets of our entire town—tales of embezzlement, affairs, murders, and espionage. Crimes against humanity and against our neighbors.
I’m not sure how King’s Trace will recover if the files are leaked.
Not sure how I’ll recover once people find out I do more than launder money and make sure business looks legitimate for the mob.
But I suppose that’s the price you pay when you get in bed with evil. Eventually, everything under the sun comes out.
Some secrets are just too powerful to be kept.
“I’m just saying, shit could go wrong.” Kieran crosses his leg over his knee and grips his ankle with his free hand, green eyes glittering in the fluorescent overhead lighting. He looks almost sad, although I can’t imagine why. This is the kind of thing his devilish soul lives for.
Action, suspense, and death.
“Shit could go wrong at any time,” I say, shrugging. An email pops up on my computer, the notification pulling me from the money transfer I was watching.
It’s from Riley, saying she’s been grounded and that email is the only way she can contact me, and only while LeeAnn’s working.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sigh and pull a joint from the tin on my desk, offering one to Kieran as I light up.
He shakes his head. “No, thanks. Never did like that shit. Fiona was always the one sneaking off to smoke whatever she could get her hands on—although, now that I think about it, she hasn’t been doing that lately.”
“Maybe she’s cured,” I say. Or maybe she’s been too busy to even think about it.
Kieran’s lips curve up in a devious grin. “Nah, that can’t be it. Once you’re addicted to something, you never really get over the craving. Just learn how to manage it.”
His words ring between my ears, loud and cumbersome as I try to focus. Then he changes the subject to how things are going down at the christening Sunday—with the entire town out to greet the newest Montalto child, it’s the prime time for our assailant to strike.
