by Mara McQueen
“Nobody’s going to come fast enough in this storm.” He nodded at the rain trying to crack the windows open, picking up a tool that looked like a torture device.
He was almost halfway out the door when Olivia grabbed his elbow, stopping his frantic movements. “You don’t need to fix everything for everyone.”
“Not everyone, only the people I care about. There’s nobody else who can. And I can’t disappoint Nan.” His jaw ticked. “She always used to say how proud I made her, and that she didn’t want me turning out like her son.”
Bolton Sr. sounded like a piece of muck that one scrapped off their shoes.
Fuck Kieran's parents for making him feel like he had to earn love. Like he could be abandoned again if he didn’t try to help until his fingers and soul bled.
Olivia shook her head, and grabbed his face gently with both hands, willing him to look at her. It was her turn to calm him down, to show him he had someone to fall back on when emotions got too much to bear on his own. Yes, this was dangerous for her heart, but right now, Kieran needed this. “Listen to me. You are an amazing man and the best goddamn grandson anyone can ask for. Your grandmother loves you, and you’ve made her as happy and comfortable as you can. You’re allowed to rest and not find solutions for everything.”
Olivia wanted to take him into her arms and shoulder some of the damage. Take some of the gutting guilt from him.
“Until I get my hands on the bastard who did this to her, I can’t rest. And I haven’t been able to do that yet, so I need to fix every little thing or else I am going to go insane.”
Olivia sucked in a breath. “So it’s true? Someone did something to her?”
The few heartbeats it took for him to answer filled the space. Mrs. Bolton, the grand journalist who’d dedicated her life to sniffing out corruption and bringing down those who dealt in it, had her career and life short-circuited by one of those very powerful, very dangerous men.
Olivia had scoffed at the idea so many evenings ago, but now it made sense. And if Kieran believed it...
“Sarah told you?” he asked.
“Sarah told me.”
He nodded but didn’t say anything else.
“She means well,” Olivia said quickly. “She’s concerned for Mrs. Bolton. And for you.”
“What exactly did she tell you?” he asked cautiously.
“Bits and pieces,” she said slowly. Outside, the rain continued to pelt the estate.
"They did do something to Nan. I still don’t know who, but I’m getting closer. But until then, all I can do is try to make Nan feel as comfortable as she can, given the circumstances. But...it hurts. Every day—” He sucked in a shuddered breath as if every word was bleeding him dry. Olivia tightened her hold on him. "I see her and I...I...it breaks my heart, and I try to mask it, but I think she can feel it because sometimes she starts crying without any warning. The doctors say that when she doesn’t remember me or my name, but she tries hard to, it worsens her condition and...I don't know where to go from here."
He raised his eyes to the ceiling, licking his lips, eyes watery. Olivia felt her own eyes glazing over; if she blinked, tears would start falling.
"I don't know what to say," he continued, his voice breaking in the evening stillness. "I don't know what to do. I've been to every specialist on every continent, and nobody can tell me what I can do to help her. Don't upset her, that's all they can say. And since my presence sometimes does that..."
"I don't know, Olivia. I can't tell you," he said and sucked in a breath, chest caving in, "how many times I wanted to just enjoy a quiet night in with her or take her out on a stroll or...but what if I somehow hurt her? What then? I want...I want her to be as happy as possible. How can I help her? Really help her? Tell me. How?" he said with desperation, his eyes searching hers for answers Olivia didn't have and couldn't give.
He looked tortured, his tormented soul barred in front of her, and she couldn't do anything to help him.
Olivia wiped the stray tears from her cheeks and pressed her chest to his, her arms wrapping around his shaking frame. He buried his nose in her hair.
"I'm sorry," she said, the only words she could utter. "I know it's hard. I can't even imagine it. But you've done all you can. She's happy, Kieran, she really is. Even a newcomer like me can see that."
"Is she really?" he asked, and Olivia's spirit ached at the innocent hope in his voice.
"Yes, she truly is. And you blaming yourself isn't helping anyone, least of all her."
Kieran nodded again, circling his arms around her waist and crushing her to him. They remained in the same position, breathing each other in until the muscles in his back relaxed slightly. He pressed his forehead against hers. The sadness in his eyes hadn't disappeared, though, no matter how much he tried faking the small smile gracing his lips.
"I'm sorry," he said and kissed her forehead, his lips lingering on her skin. "I hoped your last day here would go a different way."
"Don't be," she said and smoothed her hands along his arms and shoulders. They were so tense. So much responsibility on them. For his grandmother, for himself, for the people in his house. And he was doing it alone, day in, day out. "If you...if you ever want to talk about it, I'll be there."
"Thank you. And I know you’re right, but...if I don’t at least try to fix the furnace, it’s going to drive me insane.” The corners of his lips quirked, but it was the saddest smile Olivia had ever seen on his face. “If you still want to leave today, I can give you a ride when I’m finished downstairs.”
And then he was out of her embrace and out the door before Olivia could reply.
She didn't want to leave. And not just in the torture-herself-with-these-thoughts way like she'd done for the past few days. Oh, no. Now her mind was trying to come up with excuses as to why she had to stay.
At least for a few more hours.
At least for another day.
At least for a week.
Maria would understand. All Olivia had to do was tell her the owners wanted to go over the contract again and again.
So what if Milo got the promotion? There would be other promotions, she'd snatch one of them up. Those would come along soon. A man like Kieran didn’t and wouldn't.
So what if Olivia was in debilitating debt? She'd find a way to solve everything. After shutting herself off from really living, didn't she deserve to be happy? And Kieran made her so, so happy and—
Olivia dug the heel of her palms into eye sockets, willing these mad thoughts away. But they only kept on growing and multiplying, begging her to change her mind.
She couldn't do this. She couldn't risk her future on a hazy promise. And It wasn't like Kieran had promised her anything.
Of course he wanted her to stay, he was all alone here. But not once had he mentioned meeting up or her coming back to visit him or grabbing a coffee somewhere between Leeds and Bolton Manor, at least once a month. Or just talking over the damn phone.
No, he hadn't mentioned any of that. Neither had she, and it was about time she understood that.
And there was one surefire way to do it. One way to convince herself, once and for all, that she needed to leave. Today.
Olivia marched right up to Kieran’s open laptop and typed in her account. She took three deep breaths, steeling herself. She was about to see that shitty number that was ruining her life.
Then she took three more breaths, because, damn it, she needed them. Once she opened her eyes, that would be it. She’d convince herself to leave this place and Kieran and...she wasn’t looking forward to that moment.
Only after a small pep-talk did she muster enough courage to peek at the screen. And her heart dropped.
Because instead of the endless zeroes that haunted her life, there was only one.
Someone had paid off her student loans.
The Talk
Olivia stared at the number, only distantly aware of the light outside quickly turning to long shadows.
She
signed out and entered her account number three times, and was met with the exact same number each time.
Zero.
It didn’t look like an error. Her entire debt had been paid off. Yesterday. Had her parents finally realized that ostracizing her hadn’t been the best idea of their overpriced, overindulgent lives?
“I have officially triumphed over the furnace, at least for tonight. I met Emma downstairs, she says Nan’s resting without any issues, so I call this month’s birthday celebrations a success.” Kieran walked into the study, shirt unbuttoned and forehead gleaming with sweat. He threw the torture device into the toolbox and sent a beaming smile Olivia’s way, which quickly turned into a frown. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Yeah, the ghost of her parents’ goodwill. But...they didn’t know her account number. Hell, they probably had no clue she had taken out such a huge loan.
And, whatever the situation, even during the goddamn apocalypse if that ever came, her parents would let everyone and their mother know if they ever did something nice.
They would’ve found a way to reach Olivia and let her know, in no uncertain terms, that they’d bailed her out because she couldn’t deal with her own shit herself.
So, no, her parents couldn’t have paid off the debt. And nobody else could have. Maria, bless her heart, was a good boss, but she did not believe in helping people out who couldn’t help her.
And there was only one person who could have tracked her account number. After Olivia had signed off. Yesterday.
Only one person who had the funds to do it.
Only one person who would even want to.
“Kieran,” Olivia said, struggling to get that one word out past her quickly closing throat. “Did you pay my student loans?”
The grin vanished off Kieran’s beautiful face. He stopped right in front of the desk, facing her as if getting ready for a war. “You weren’t supposed to find out before you left.”
Good God.
No, no, no.
Please, no.
All the air Olivia had been gulping down wooshed out of her lungs as she rose on shaky legs, gaze piercing Kieran. She circled the desk, trying to get her thoughts in check, but her mind was whirling out of control. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“I don’t joke about things like this—”
“How could you think this was okay?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper. But anger bubbled inside, ready to spill out in all its cruel, desperate glory. “Or that I would be okay with it?”
With each step she took, Kieran stepped in the opposite direction, like they were two caged wolves, circling each other until they stood in the same spots they had been when Olivia had burst into his study—him behind his desk, her in front of it.
He ran a hand through his hair, trying in vain to tame it. “I saw how much this situation stressed you out. How caged you felt. I didn’t want you to feel trapped, too.”
A nice sentiment, but this was too much, too personal, too presumptuous.
“I can deal with my messes myself,” she hissed.
Yeah, she had been doing such an excellent job at it, she’d almost started crying in his bathroom. But that didn’t change the fact that he’d overstepped some boundaries he should have never crossed.
“I know you can," he said evenly. "But you said so yourself, it would take you years and years of working at a job you hate to be free to follow your dreams. You don’t have to do that now.”
Olivia swayed on the spot, anger darkening her vision. “Do you think you can just wave your money around and fix my problems? You had NO right to interfere.”
Kieran raised his open palms as if trying to calm her down. It only spurred her on. “All I wanted to do—”
“Was to fix my fucking problem! Like I’m some helpless child that doesn’t know any better.” Olivia’s yells were battling with the rain over which would shatter the windows first. "Don't you understand how this changes everything?"
"Yes, now you'll be FREE to do whatever you want to do."
Olivia was going to strangle him. "No, I won't! Because now, instead of being indebted to a nameless, faceless bank, I'll be indebted to you."
The goddamn man of her dreams, who had done something so, so stupid.
Kieran's face contorted with disgust. "I didn't do this so you would pay me back. I don't want anything in return. People can help other people without expecting anything."
"Not with over two hundred thousand dollars, they don't!" Just saying that number out loud made it sound even worse. Good God, he'd just spent more on her than some people made in a lifetime. "And don’t make this sound like some grand charitable deed. This wasn't about me, this was about you and your obsession to make everyone's lives better, except your own!"
"And you yelling at me right now isn't about me spending my money, it's about you trying to prove to God-knows-who that you don't need anyone else! Life isn't a tally of wins and losses, Olivia. Who the hell cares how you paid off your loans?"
"I do! Because if I end up depending on anyone, I might get disappointed all over again. Because that's what people do! They make you care and rely on them and then they take it all back. And now you're lording this money over me—"
Kieran recoiled back as if slapped. "Is that what you think I'm doing? "Lording" my money over you?" A mirthless laugh ripped from his throat. "And here I was thinking you didn't care about my money."
"I didn't. Until now." Olivia threw her hands in the air. "What's going to happen now, huh? What's going to happen when you get back to the real world and decide I'm not all that great when you'll have the whole world open to you?"
There. She'd said it. Voiced the fear that had been slowly eating at her. That Kieran had only chosen her because she'd been the first person to be interested in him in this hell-hole.
"You think that's why I got involved with you?" he asked in a deadly whisper. "Because I was lonely?"
"Aren't you? Tell me, Kieran, what's going to happen when you free yourself from Bolton Manor. Tell me, because, in my head, you're not going to come rushing to me. You’re going to meet someone else and decide I'm not worth it and—" Her voice cracked. "—and you're going to break my fucking heart. And then you'll come to collect your debt."
"I don't WANT your money," he finally yelled.
"And I didn't want your help!"
"No, you want to completely eviscerate me from your life. You want to get as far away from Bolton Manor and me as you can, as fast as you can." He gripped the back of his chair so hard, his knuckles turned white. "You keep talking about what I'll supposedly do once I leave, but you will be gone. Today. You think I don’t worry you'll forget about me as soon as you get back home?"
Being with him had felt more like home than her apartment ever had. “You think I’m so fickle?”
“I don’t know what to think. All I know is that you’re leaving and we’re screaming at each other.” He molded his back to the windows, looking as drained as Olivia felt. He rested his head against the glass, eyes focused on the ceiling.
The air crackled around them, with words neither of them dared say. They'd both done enough damage to the other.
“You can’t let anyone help you. I can’t let anyone I care about suffer without helping them," he said as if speaking to himself. As if asking the heavens to figure this mess out for him and Olivia "So what are we going to do from now on?”
“I don’t know.” Olivia felt all the fight leave her.
The first time either of them had hinted at a future together, and it had happened during the worst kind of fight. She tried in vain to catch Kieran’s gaze. His impenetrable stare was fixed on the ceiling as if some miraculous answer would rain down on them. “I really don’t—”
The rest of Olivia's words died on her lips as a sudden flicker from above Kieran’s shoulder caught her attention. She narrowed her eyes, craning her neck.
It couldn’t be. But there it definitely was.
> “Kieran,” she said, her voice trembling, “I think there’s someone in the boathouse.”
Bloody And Silent
Kieran’s gaze slashed behind him.
In the next second, he dug into the first desk drawer, jaw tight. He opened a secret compartment and took out a small flashlight. And a gun. A fucking gun, with a long smooth barrel and a black grip. It looked like silent death.
“What the hell?” Olivia’s mouth hung open. She’d learned enough about famous assassinations to know that they didn’t sell that type of firearm to anyone, permit or not, especially in the UK. “Why do you have that thing?”
“Business.” Kieran cocked the damn thing. His entire demeanor changed, from the tilt of his chin to his precise, dangerous movements. He looked like a predator. “Stay here.”
Yes, because Olivia was definitely going to let him go out alone, gun or not.
Heart hammering in her chest, she stepped in front of him, planting her feet firmly on the ground. “Have you lost your mind? It’s probably the Greshams looking for ghosts. You want to scare the living shit out of them?”
“The boathouse is locked and I’m the only one who knows where the real key is,” he snapped and pushed her to the side. “Wait until I get back.”
And then he was off, a blur darting out of his study. Olivia ran into the bedroom and grabbed her baton, extending it in one flick, and ran right out after him.
Mad, completely and utterly mad.
But if some stranger had broken into the boathouse...
She didn’t see anyone on the way out of the house. Not a soul. She ran out the door and into the pouring rain, uncaring of the cold drops that hit her face.
After a minute of roaming in the growing darkness, getting her loose sneakers stuck in the mud and turning her head helplessly around, Olivia finally found Kieran. Or rather, he waited for her to find him, as he stood next to a huge tree, grimacing her way.