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Peace or no peace, child or not, Blair is not walking away from this.
24
KILLIAN
Dante insists on one of his guards driving me home, and I know it’s a subtle apology for ducking out of the discussion. While I appreciate the gesture, being driven home makes me feel like a child. It takes me back to when I was just a boy, following in my father and brother’s footsteps, being escorted everywhere.
I miss driving my car. Even the sedan I temporarily drive since the crash doesn’t quite cut it.
I kiss Cara, share dinner together and then leave her in the lounge while I shower away the stink of the day. Such a thing becomes slightly impossible though as the revelation about Blair weaves continuously through my mind like a song clip I can’t place.
Ifshe’s the culprit in my poisoning I want to kill her for daring to step into my home with such ill intent. And yet, such boiling rage is tempered by thoughts of my son. I’ve never met him, and have no children of my own, but I know if the life of my child was called into question I would act recklessly too.
Can I really blame Blair if her actions were fueled by wanting to protect Samuel?
It’s all awhat ifuntil I get answers.
Heading back downstairs, I glimpse Cara tucked up on the couch exactly where I left her. Although now her delicate brow is pulled into a frown and her rosy lips purse in frustration. She glares at her phone, an adorable groan escaping her before she sets it aside.
“What’s wrong?” I ask as I head into the kitchen, making a beeline for the coffee. Sure, it’s not wise to drink caffeine before bed but if I’m to have any chance at finding a clear path through this Blair mess, I’ll need it.
“Blair,” Cara mutters and it draws my attention immediately. I glance sharply across the room at her, and her eyes widen a fraction.
“Blair?”
“Yeah,” Cara replies and her gaze drops away for a second, her form shifting slightly against the couch. “I’ve been trying to get her to agree to meet with one of us face-to-face with Samuel but she either brushes me off or ignores me altogether.”
Her teeth catch lightly on her lower lip, drawing my gaze to the red swell now highlighted by the white of her tooth.
Fuck, if she isn’t my biggest fucking distraction.
Shaking the thoughts free, I grab a white mug and pour myself a cup of coffee. The heated aroma warms my soul after a few breaths and the tension that lingers heavily in the back of my neck begins to ease.
“She’s probably cautious,” I say as casually as I can muster. “There’s a lot of risks involved in our lives. Bringing a child into that? I expect her to be cautious.”
Cara’s eyes fix on me like a hawk as I walk through the lounge toward her. It’s strange, I know, defending Blair. The very thought twists my stomach and yet sympathy for her still burns within my heart. As much as I yearn to be a father, I’m not one. Not yet at least and I can’t imagine facing down such threats with the life of a child on the line.
Guilty or not, I have to take Samuel into consideration.
I settle on the couch next to Cara, her body sliding against me faintly as my weight pulls at the couch cushions. She continues to watch me, still chewing on her lower lip before finally she glances away.
“I suppose,” she relents, “but Killian, she’s been dodging us at every turn. When she was here, we wereperfect. Surely your excitement about Samuel would be enough to kick-start her into action?”
“This entire time I’ve brushed her off with suspicion, not knowing the whole story. One evening together can’t have soothed all her worry about us,” I reply, trying to get Cara to latch onto something else. I understand her wariness, I do, but I can’t yet divulge something I don’t understand the motive for, not yet.
“Trust me,” I continue, “I’m her number 1 hater but a child can change things. All sorts of threats in the world can surely drive a parent to extremes.”
And yet she deserves to know.
Perhaps, pipes up another voice, colder than the first.Cara deserves to be protected.I don’t want her stressing about all of this when she’s literally been sick from overstressing, not until we know all the facts.
Jumping to conclusions has bitten me hard in the past and Cara is the perfect example. I hurt her, believing the worst instead of trusting her when it came to her father. I can’t make that mistake again, not with a child involved.
As my mind wanders, Cara’s left hand reaches out to me and her gentle fingertips skim over the top of my knuckles. Her touch is heated, warmed by the blanket she’s nestled under.
“Has she replied to you?” Cara asks after a beat of silence, refusing to let this go for now.
“Me? No. Believe me, I’ve been trying.” I take a long sip of my coffee, pulling my hand away to rummage in my pockets for my phone. I can’t tell her the whole truth yet but I don’t want her jumping to conclusions either. I locate my phone, tap in the passcode and offer it to her.
