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QUIN
It’s nearly impossible to pull yourself together when your life has been torn apart.
But I do it every day — even on the days when it’s really fucking hard.
I do it for her. Forthem. For the loving family man I could have been if my dream of a better existence hadn’t become my worst nightmare.
The emotions I suppress and the distance I keep are not because I don’t love my woman and child. I love them so much, Imustrefuse to show it. I’m a danger to them both, and I will do what I must to protect them. Dutifully and without complaint. As a man should for his woman, and as a father should for his son.
But after watching my brother so freely fawning over his very pregnant wife all day, I’m on the verge of a jealousy-induced meltdown, and I need to quell that shit before it gets any worse.
I have hidden, muted, or forsaken every fucking feeling of longing I’ve had, just to survive the last decade, and now my chest is strung so tight, it could pull itself apart. If I see Thaddy caress that precious round belly one more time, I may actually snap and die.
I don’t need a drink of water that badly. I don’t need to be in their fucking kitchen subjecting myself to their covetable family situation.
“Quin,” Thaddy calls after me. But I rush away from their privileged happiness, and I don’t turn back.
I haven’t touched my girl since our son was conceived, and her absence is pure agony. I was forced to miss every single moment I yearned to be present for. And the resulting shattered heart I’m burdened with feels more dangerous than my father’s death threats right now. If I don’t keep in complete control of myself, somebody’s going to die.
It should be my father. But if I set one foot wrong, it’ll be Kira.
Or worse.
I glance at the young boy across the nursery we’re helping Thaddy put together for his baby.
So innocent. So blissfully unaware. Kira’s done well, sheltering him from all the unspeakable things I’ve put them through.
Curtus has his mother’s beautiful eyes, and I can’t look into them without missing every part of Kira I’ve been forbidden from coming within ten feet of.
Ten feet.
Close enough to see and want everything I can’t touch or have.
Far enough for the longing to cause maximum pain.
Atticus ruffles Curty’s bright-red hair, as they laugh together at their meddling game of directing two of the others where to put the large, heavy piece of artwork Atty created for the new baby.
Our boy has Kira’s mischievous smile, too — the one she flashed at me the first time I met her, that sealed her into my heart forever. I hope to keep Curty’s smile untouched by the darkness I couldn’t save her from.
My gaze lingers on his hair. It’s so close in color to what mine was at his age, and I thank the stars every day that mine has darkened enough to make that similarity less obvious. Thankfully, Kira’s dad was a redhead too — which genetically protects Curty from too much intense scrutiny and speculation. I don’t even want to think about the danger my son would be in if my father suspected he was mine.
Jack Montgomery went to great lengths to prevent my relationship with Kira from blossoming into something as beautiful as this child, and who knows? Maybe our rebellious affair during their brief, horrific marriage wasn’t enough to keep my father’s seed from her womb. Maybe the boy truly is my brother and not my son.
I wouldn’t love him any less. He’s part of her — the only link to her heart I’m allowed to connect with — and regardless of biology, he exists in the world because of my actions.
It’s too dangerous for me to stake a claim, but in my heart, I’m his father. And I’ll do all I can to make sure he grows up with the love and support I never had.
Nine years I’ve watched him thrive under Kira’s care. Mostly from a distance.
I fell instantly in love with him the day he was born, when my father demanded I bear witness to the child I was meant to hate, but it wasn’t until Curty was old enough to leave Kira’s side that I was allowed close enough to touch him. Now, I spend time with him when I can — whenever it’s appropriate for a big brother to do so. He’s the light of my life.
Thaddy knocks on the door, pokes his head inside the nursery, and looks about, his eyes scrutinizing every little thing. “Guys. Quit messing around with the painting and get it hung. In two minutes, I’m bringing Bo in, and if everything isn’t perfect for her, I—”
I step in front of him, raise my palms, and rest them on his shoulders, hoping to bring him some calm, now that I’ve restored my own. “I know what you want it to be. We know how much you love her, and we’ll be ready. Take a deep breath and go get her.”
Ever-anxious Thaddy meets my gaze, measuring my sincerity. He blinks twice and nods. He knows I get shit done. “Thanks, Quin.”
