“You’re fifteen, Rory.”
“What?” he gasps. “What does that mean? Where do I go? My family? Do I have a family?”
Yeah, this day fucking sucks balls.
I can’t even bring myself to say the words, so I just shake my head no like a pussy.
“They said I was small because I wasn’t being taken care of before they found me,” he seethes.
“They were liars, bud.”
“So I have to go into foster care now,” he says in a resigned tone that makes my skin crawl.
“You don’t have to do anything,” I growl. “You think I’d just send you off to another prison?”
He shrugs not meeting my eyes. I’m on my feet rounding the desk. I grasp the side of his neck the way Bert used to grab mine, strong and caring.
Rory’s black eyes snap to mine at the contact, and I speak in a low timbre. “I will not send you anywhere you don’t wanna go. You’re safe now, and I’ll make damn sure it stays that way. It’s okay to be fucked up about this. But you don’t get to give up. Not after everything we’ve been through. We’ll figure this shit out. I just need you to trust me.”
“I trust you, Kane,” he responds instantly.
I squeeze his neck once and let it go, settling my hips against the glass-topped desk.
“Can I stay with you?” he whispers.
“Yes,” Alannah answers before I can respond.
“Just for a little while,” he backtracks when I don’t agree with my woman.
“We’ll need to catch you up in school,” I say, ignoring his comment. “It’s good it’s summer break. Gives me some time to iron shit out. Hopefully, you’ll get your memory back before then, and we can get you settled before the semester starts.”
“I…that’s…what?” he stumbles around his words.
“You wanna stay with us, bud?” I ask pointedly.
“Yes,” he says without reservation.
“Then you’re with me. I won’t try to be your dad or anything like that. But I’ll take care of you. I’ll make sure you’re safe and healthy. Happy.”
“Thank you,” he breathes out a relieved sigh.
When his memory comes back, he won’t be so easy going. He comes from some dark shit. A place where him ending up in Canyon Nine was the better of two evils. Rory won’t know darkness like that again. I’ll make certain of that shit.
He stands up, and Alannah wraps him in a rib-crushing hug. He hugs her back with a tiny grin on his lips. When she lets him go, he dives into my chest, and I hold him closely.
Rory’s tears leak through my light blue T-shirt as he silently cries. Alannah looks up at me with those needy electric blues, so I pull her into my embrace. She threads her arms around Rory and me as the three of us begin to build a new family. My son kicks me just as I think that, and I smother a chuckle. He’s always communicating with me.
I don’t give a shit if it sounds crazy. He responds to me, reaches out to me. We’re different.
“Go out to the dragons,” I instruct Rory once our family hug is done.
“Okay. Should I send in another bearer?”
“Forty,” I answer.
“See you in a while,” he says sweetly before shutting the door.
“We just adopted a teenager,” I point out to Alannah, dragging her body up mine.
“Told you I wanted more kids,” she jokes.
“And I’ll keep givin’ ’em to you,” I murmur against her lips before ravaging her mouth. Alannah clings to my shoulders and allows my assault, simply following me. “You still want me pissed off?” I ask when I leave her breathless.
“I just want you,” she says tenderly, cupping my cheeks. “You’re kinda hot when you’re all pissed and aggressive though.”
I snort and give her ass a firm squeeze before righting her feet on the floor.
“I’ll pick a fight with you tonight.”
“Not if I pick one with you first,” she says flirtatiously, sauntering back to the reading chair as Forty knocks on the door.
I have to readjust my dick in my jeans before I answer. That woman is going to be the death of me. I’m also aware that she knows how hard this day is for me. She’s trying to offer herself up as a way to ease my tension. I love her for that.
“Hey,” Forty says easily, his charcoal grey eyes watching me closely.
I nod at the chair I want him to take before closing the door and settling myself behind the desk again.
“I know who you are. I have most of the information about your life before Canyon Nine. I can give it to you, or you can wait for your memory to come back. It’s up to you.”
He rubs his buzzed inky hair, considering my words before responding, “Hit me.”
“Your name is Dermot O’Keefe,” I say, pausing to gauge his reaction.
He doesn’t have one. He simply waits for me to continue. I knew this would be easier.
“You’re from Chicago.”
“Family?” he asks.
“No. Well, not the kind you’re askin’ about,” I clarify.
That gets his attention.
“You worked for Kieran Delaney, a crime boss in Chicago. His crew’s still around.”
“They think I’m dead,” Dermot states instead of asking.
I nod.
He considers the information I’ve given him for a moment before telling me, “I’ll go back to Chicago. Can you reach out to my crew so I can talk to ’em before I show up?”
“You wanna do that now or later?”
“Now’s fine,” he says nonchalantly.
This should be fun. Kieran Delaney is the only Irish boss that’s left in the Midwest besides the O’Donnell Clan. He runs a tight crew that deals mainly in protection and illegal bare-knuckle fights. I’ve met the man once, and he’s a rare breed. A man to be respected and never fucked with.
I hit the speaker phone and dial the number Caelan left me. When we discovered who Dermot was, we thought this is how things might go. We also don’t want trouble with Kieran or his crew.
“Yeah,” a gruff whiskey and tar voice filters through the speaker.
“This is Kane Rand,” I answer coolly.
“Kane Rand’s dead, motherfucker. Paid my respects in person. So unless you’re lookin’ for an ass whippin’, I suggest you hang the fuck up.”
See. A man not to be fucked with. I like Kieran Delaney.
“I’m not dead. I appreciate you comin’ to my funeral though. Some shit got fucked up a few months ago and even more wires got crossed.”
“Proof,” he grunts.
“I did a hit for you a year ago when some dumb motherfucker threatened your cousin in Kansas City.”
“Holy shit,” he hisses. That hit was off the books. Not even Caelan knows about it.
“I’ve got some more crazy shit to tell you. I’m sittin’ here with Dermot O’Keefe.”
I let that hang in the air as Kieran Delaney probably plots my death.
“I haven’t had enough to drink to deal with this shit,” he grumbles.
“O’Keefe’s had a rough go of it and doesn’t have his memory quite intact. He wants to come home, but I’m reluctant to send him. Wanna make sure he’s in good standing.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Kieran snarls.
“I didn’t stutter,” I snark.
“Jesus, you still got a fuckin’ mouth,” he says through a smirk-filled snort. “O’Keefe?”
“Yeah,” he answers respectfully. He may not remember Kieran, but he’s got the posture and the tone of a man who knows when to act smart.
“Man, I can’t fuckin’ believe this shit. Get your ass on a plane. I’ll call my cousin and get you set up private in the next few hours. I’m assumin’ you’re in Kansas City?”
“Close,” I answer without giving any details.
“Have your crew drop him at the Downtown Airport at six tonight. I’ll have shit worked out by then,” Kieran says almost distractedly, already making moves.
/>
His crew is his family. This has to be fucking with him, but he’d never admit that shit. He’s a rock, an unmovable Irish boulder.
“O’Keefe, whatever you’re dealin’ with, I’ve got you. See you soon,” Kieran says roughly. “And Kane, you mouthy fuck, thanks for whatever you did to make this happen. I owe you. Whenever you need it.”
Then he hangs up on us.
“You sure you wanna deal with all that?” I ask Dermot with a knowing smirk on my face.
“Feels right,” he responds with a shrug. “Thanks for gettin’ us outta there. I guess I’ll see you around.”
I nod. Our paths in this crime world will surely pass again.
We shake hands before he waves at my woman and exits the office. Before he leaves, I ask him to send in the cop vest. This should be fun.
“Hey,” the vest says as I open the door for him.
Once we’re settled around the desk, I begin the same way I have every other time.
“I know who you are. I have most of the information about your life before Canyon Nine. I can give it to you, or you can wait for your memory to come back. It’s up to you.”
“Fill me in,” he says confidently.
“Your name is Devin Mulloy. You were a cop in New York City. Like the other bearers, your family is gone. But you’ve got a department that would probably be happy to have you back. Not sure how you swing that, but we could come up with somethin’.”
He rolls all that shit around for a minute or so, deep brown eyes heavy with thought.
“So it’s probably a bad thing I’m hangin’ out with a crime syndicate?” he asks with a hint of humor in his voice.
“It’s definitely an interesting turn of events.”
“I’m not sure how much of a cop I still am. Almost six years inside a canyon changes a man. If you want me gone, I get that. But if you’re good with me bein’ here, I’d like to stay for a while.”
“I’m not holdin’ shit against you. You protected my woman. You wanna stay here, I’ve got no problem with that and neither does my crew,” I answer honestly.
“You saved my life, Kane,” Devin says with emotion thick in his voice. “And I didn’t protect Alannah. I’m sorry for that. Cop or not, you’ve got my loyalty. Always.”
“Devin,” Alannah calls out from her chair before climbing to her feet. “You did protect me. They had to shoot you in the back of the head to get to me and even then, your body was tryin’ to keep me safe. Thank you for that.”
He stands up and pulls my woman into a firm hug. Devin doesn’t hold her long, respecting that she’s mine. He shakes my hand before leaving the office.
“You turned a cop,” Alannah compliments.
I roll my eyes at her joke, smacking her fine ass before the burnt necktie comes in, Braden at her side.
He helps his woman into a chair since her legs are still healing, although what the blizzard did is fucking amazing. I don’t think she’ll have scars, and Alannah says she’ll make a full recovery.
“You fill her in?” I ask Braden.
“Yeah,” he says sweetly because he’s talking to her and not me.
Pussy.
I catch Alannah looking at the couple and then smiling broadly at me. I smile back like the pussy I am. Oh, how things change.
“Do you want me to fill you in or do you wanna wait for your memory to come back?” I ask the woman staring lovingly at Braden with big green eyes. He pushes a piece of her dark mahogany hair behind her ear and kisses her cheek before they both face me, fingers interlaced.
“I’d like you to tell me,” her sweet southern voice drawls.
“Your name is Nora Lynch. You’re from Savannah, Georgia. You were a college student studying Performing Arts at Pace University in New York.”
“My family?”
This question is starting to stab deeper each time they ask.
“Gone. I’m sorry,” I add, trying to be as compassionate as I can be.
“Were they shitty people? I have this feeling in my gut like they were bad news.”
If she only knew.
“They had some issues.” I try to be somewhat evasive in my response.
“You don’t have to lie to me. I can take it,” Nora says firmly.
“Babe, maybe you should wait and remember on your own,” Braden encourages.
“Okay,” she relents to her man’s seductive charm.
“What’s the plan?” Braden asks.
“Just finishing with this,” I say in a duh voice.
“No shit,” he scoffs. “I mean in life. We’re all a merry band of freaks. All presumed dead. I figure we should stick together and become some sorta superhero group.”
“I’ve got a job,” I reply coolly.
“The mob enforcer thing? You’re still gonna do that?”
“That’s the plan. I’m not good at much else in life. Killing is what I know.”
“But you saved all of us,” Nora responds in shock.
“And I did that by killing a lot of people.”
“That’s not all you did, Kane,” Braden scolds.
“Look, man, I get it. You’re a good man. You spent your life before this in a courageous job. I think you and your boys should go back to that. I’m not sayin’ today, but eventually.”
“You’re a good man,” Braden snarls, climbing to his feet and leaning across the desk into my face. “I was just askin’ about the enforcer shit. I’m not judgin’ you. And if you don’t quit tryin’ to push me outta your life, I’m gonna beat your fuckin’ ass. Maybe I’ll go back and work as a firefighter. I don’t know right now. But no matter what I decide, you’ll still be a man I respect. One I’ll always be loyal to.”
“I’m not good at this,” I admit. “Before I was in Canyon Nine I had Chann, Caelan and my parents. Shit with Alannah was brand new. I’m not bein’ a dick. Well, not any more than I usually am. My social skills are just inept.”
“You did all right in Canyon Nine,” he scoffs like he thinks I’m lying.
“Did I? I only bonded with you dragons and Alex. Rory was kind of a side deal. So no, I didn’t do all that well even bein’ locked away with twenty-nine other people.”
“I see your point,” he acquiesces. “But you have us. And you have the other bearers whether you want ’em or not. We’ll help you learn how to be a normal social person.”
There’s that cocky fucking smile.
“You’re too annoying to be my friend,” I grumble, causing us both to chuckle while Nora and Alannah roll their eyes at us.
“Blizzard or the desert next?” Braden asks as his woman hugs mine.
“Blizzard,” I answer.
“Come on, babe,” he orders his woman who’s still hugging Alannah and talking about girl shit.
“Pretty serious, huh?” I ask my friend as he looks at Nora with the same possessive gaze that I use with Alannah.
“Don’t know where it came from. We lived together for two years and nothing. Somethin’ happened when she got burned. It’s like I saw her for the first time, and now I can’t quit lookin’. Feel like a dick that I didn’t see it before.”
“Took me ten years with Alannah. You’ve got me beat.”
He smirks at me and claps my back as his woman slides under his arm. They stride away with big smiles on their faces while Alannah wraps around my front.
The blizzard is pretty easy to talk to. His name is Lucas Madden, and he was a lumberjack. I didn’t know that was a real profession, but apparently it is. He decides to stay with us until he gets a better grip on his memory, which he says has already started to come back.
The desert, Rhys O’Shea, was an Army Ranger. He also decides to hang with us, seemly intrigued with the crime life. I have no room to argue with that.
The last person I talk to is the mourning blade. She can’t even walk herself into the office, so Dermot carries her in. He’s the only one who’s decided to leave so far today. I understand his decision. I’d go back to Caela
n if I were in his position. Still, I feel like I’m losing an ally.
“I…don’t…care,” she stutters out in ragged breathless speech when Dermot settles her in the chair across from me.
Dermot and I lock eyes, conveying the fact that neither of us is equipped for this shit. Alannah’s up out of her chair quickly, cupping her face.
“Your name’s Reagan Scully. You were an archer, training to be an Olympian. Your life fuckin’ matters. He sacrificed himself so you could live, and the worst thing you could do would be to give up. Mourn your man. Take your time, but you’ve gotta live the life he left so you could go on,” my woman dictates.
Reagan takes a breath and finally her tears stop. Alannah smiles at her, presses a long kiss to her forehead and then retakes her reading chair.
“Can I go with you?” Reagan asks Dermot.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he responds gruffly in a way I wasn’t expecting.
“You’re my only friend left, and you’re just gonna leave me?” she questions as something akin to anger boils up.
“Friend?” he grinds out.
Uh.
“Don’t,” she warns.
“Maybe you two should take a minute to talk,” I suggest, not wanting anything to do with the shit I see brewing.
They don’t even act like they hear me.
“Don’t what? Bring up that you were on my dick before he showed up?”
She gasps and then smacks him across the face. Hard.
“You motherfucker!” she roars, climbing to her feet. He follows her.
Shit.
“Careful,” he scolds her.
“You brushed me off. You told me you wanted a break. You were all over that fish. And now you’re gonna act like that shit’s my fault? I don’t need this. Tell me where I’m from so I can go back to another painful fuckin’ life,” she snarls at me.
“Actually, wait,” Reagan halts my speech, turning her icy gaze back at Dermot. “Get the fuck outta here. I don’t want you knowin’ where I’ll be. You’re done with me and goin’ back to your life. Enjoy.” Then she turns away from him.
When his eyes meet mine, I shake my head at him. Bad idea. I don’t know much, but when a woman does what she just did, that’s not what she wants. And out of all of us, Reagan shouldn’t be alone. Her life wasn’t great before Canyon Nine got her either. I’m not willingly shipping her off to that clusterfuck.
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