Misunderstood Miracles

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Misunderstood Miracles Page 25

by Norma Jeanne Karlsson


  I can’t imagine raising my family anywhere other than Sorcha’s. It’s where I’m supposed to be.

  “Like a hippie commune?” Devin asks with a turn of his nose.

  “I was kinda raised on a hippie commune,” I reply through a smirk.

  “Contract killer raised by hippies?” Nora pipes in.

  “My mother was an Irish nymph forced to live in the real world,” I quip.

  “So you’re familiar with this brand of crazy?” Alex questions, nodding toward the manifesto on the screen.

  “Careful,” I warn my friend.

  “I didn’t mean it that way,” he apologizes. “I don’t know shit about my heritage. I thought my dad was German. Are we sure Doctor Sadist got anything right?”

  “I’m havin’ Ronan come back out here to talk. We’ll figure this shit out. He said this was just the beginning. We may never have the answers, but we’ll be all right. There’s no other option.”

  “Does it really matter why we’re bearers?” Rory asks, as Alannah and he join our powwow.

  We all look at each other, considering the seemingly simple question. Does it matter? To the people in this room? Probably not. But to people who are hell bent on war and terrorism, I’m guessing they’d like to get their hands on people like us or worse, people they can turn into people like us.

  If there’s a formula to create bearers, shitty people with fucked intentions will try to exploit that. There’s part of me that hopes Dr. Sadist was right about the strict heritage rules. There can’t be that many of us around. Though, Ireland could be a hotspot.

  “There will always be people that wanna get their hands on us or on a formula to make bearers. The why may not make a difference, but the how is important,” I answer.

  “So we’ll have to hide for the rest of our lives,” he replies in defeat.

  “Fuck no,” I growl. “We just have to be smart. The dragons can’t run into burning buildings in their street clothes and walk out unscathed. Devin can’t get shot in front of people and walk away. You can’t join the swim team and never come up for air during a race. We have to live smart, but we can still live.”

  “We’ll figure everything out, Rory,” Alannah assures him. “We’re safe and we’re free. That’s what we need to focus on for now.”

  “Yeah,” the room agrees with my woman.

  I hope she’s right.

  Finding out your daughter isn’t dead, but instead is alive and pregnant, is a life altering experience.

  Cait arrived a few hours ago and hasn’t stopped crying. She’s thrown up twice, passed out three times, punched Caelan in the face four times, smacked me twice, pinched Chann and is currently hyperventilating. I feel bad for the woman, but I’m done dealing with her. She’s upsetting my woman. The bearers are hiding on the top floor because we didn’t want to broach that subject with the emotional whirlwind that is Cait Casey. And Caelan’s men cleared out at the first signs of waterworks.

  “Hey, Cait,” I grunt.

  Her head snaps up from in between her knees, showing me her red-rimmed dark green eyes.

  “Wanna see somethin’ cool?”

  Her brow furrows. She’s not happy with the enforcer who knocked up her daughter. She’s been given a very hazy outline of what’s going on and where Alannah and I have been. By that I mean, she’s been told lies. We’re all getting cancer at this point.

  Cait believes there was a hit taken out to eliminate me from the clan so Alannah and she could be targeted in order to take Caelan down. Our original thoughts back in January. Supposedly, Alannah and I were sent away for safe keeping, faking our own deaths in the process. Caelan took credit for that, hence the punching of the face.

  We know a bit more of the truth now. Canyon Nine took out contracts on my life, surely trying to test my skills. The problem with that was, once they started coming after me, so did other families. It took Calean months to get that clusterfuck dealt with. His family ended up on the brink of war because of me. I hate that, and he won't even allow me to apologize.

  We can't fill Cait in on most of this. So she hates the man who stole her daughter and then filled her with his baby batter. I get it. I just don’t give a fuck.

  I ignore her scowl, grab her hand, place it on Alannah’s bump in between us and wait. Right on cue my son kicks.

  “Oh,” she gasps, and all that heartache fades from her face. Awe looks better on the woman.

  “Meet your maimeó,” I say to my son, pressing my mouth to Alannah’s belly.

  My woman threads her fingers through my hair as Cait starts speaking Irish in hushed tones.

  My Irish is shit, but I pick up enough to hear her promising to spoil the hell out of him. He kicks and kicks while my hand is there, communicating his happiness. I sit up and curl around Alannah as her mother continues to jabber on, Caelan joining in with her.

  He tells her that she can’t baby a boy the way she did Alannah. Cait tells him she can do whatever the fuck she wants. It goes downhill from there until all is normal. Bickering in Irish, holding my woman as I chuckle along with Chann, Alannah whispering she loves me before rolling her eyes at her family. This I can deal with.

  “Come on, Cait,” Caelan urges his sister to let go of Alannah as we say our goodbyes on the porch.

  “You want me to kick your ass some more?” she snarls back.

  He throws his hands up in the air in exasperation before stalking to his SUV, flicking me a two finger wave as he goes.

  “Love you, Mom. I’ll see you soon,” Alannah says for the fifth time, peeling out of her mother’s arms.

  “Okay,” Cait huffs, wiping more tears that I’m shocked she can still produce. “Kane,” she mutters.

  She throws her slender arms around my neck, forcing me to hug her.

  “My husband would’ve put a bullet in your head for getting his daughter pregnant without so much as a ring on her finger. Disrespect me or my daughter like that again, and I’ll put a hit out on you myself,” she whispers so only I can hear her.

  I laugh. I laugh hard, setting her away from me.

  “If Niall was here, I’d tell him the same thing I’m about to tell you. You raised an amazing woman. Be proud of that accomplishment and also understand that she’s a woman now. She’s free to make her own choices, and she chose me. I love your daughter. I’ll care for her and protect her until my dying breath. She’s my responsibility now, not yours. Don’t ever threaten me again, because threatening me causes my woman harm. And I just told you I’d protect her, even if that means protecting her from you,” I explain plainly.

  “Kane—”

  I pin Alannah with a look that says I’m dealing with this. She shuts up and curls beneath my arm.

  Cait has taken a few cautious steps away from me. I understand her threatening me. Shit, I respect the woman for having the balls to do it. But I’m not the man who stands next to his woman and future mother-in-law while being put in a bitch’s position and says nothing.

  “Caelan says you’re the best man he’s ever known,” Cait says. “I believe him now. Thank you for takin’ care of my daughter. She may be yours now, but she’ll always be my little girl. I’m sorry to hear that you lost your mother recently. But I’m certain she would be proud of the man you are.”

  I yank the woman into my chest and hold her closely along with Alannah. They both cry some more while I roll my eyes at a near fuming Caelan as he blares the horn.

  “Please let my grandson get patience the O’Donnell blood doesn’t carry,” Cait snorts as she kisses my cheek and then Alannah’s.

  She walks to the SUV as slowly as she can with her middle finger raised the entire time. She and Caelan are instantly screaming at each other in Irish once Cait opens the door. Even after she’s climbed and shut the door, we can hear the two of them going at it.

  “Fuck me,” I groan. “You think our kids are gonna be like that?”

  “Like what?” Alannah asks seriously.

  “Like singi
ng zebras that wear rainbow pants,” I drone sarcastically, gifting me a confused and irritated scowl. “Like your uncle and your mom. They fight like cats and dogs.”

  “They love each other. That’s how they’ve always been. No one can fight like they can, but no one will fight for each other like they do. I hope our kids are like them,” she replies, placing a kiss over my T-shirt-covered chest.

  “I can’t take the screamin’ in Irish,” I grumble, holding her closely.

  “I’ll only teach them English then,” she teases.

  I snort.

  “I’m glad we didn’t introduce her to Rory. I could barely handle her.”

  We’ll ease her into the truth over time, but it’s obvious Cait’s not ready for that right now.

  “You did awesome with her. She was on the brink of a breakdown when you made the baby kick. Genius.”

  “I had to do something to shut her up.”

  “So sweet,” she snarks.

  “You love me and my dickish ways. Don’t lie. I can’t have you gettin’ cancer.”

  I nuzzle my way down to her neck until she’s squealing and writhing to get away from my stubbled assault. Then I kiss her senseless, massaging and tangling with her tongue. I plunge my hands into her silky hair and slant her head to get better access to her succulent mouth. Alannah fists my shirt to remain upright as I continue my assault while swallowing her every mewl.

  She finally rips her mouth away from mine, panting. I smile in my own cocky way, noting her hard nipples and the way she’s rubbing her thighs together to relieve the tension. I’m good.

  “Tease,” she accuses when she realizes I’m not going to build on what I just started.

  “Promise for later,” I purr, pressing my mouth to her neck. “Now go inside before I take you against that log. No free shows for the bearers or the clan.”

  Alannah sighs as she moves around me, squeezing my forearm as she passes, saying, “Thanks for what you did with my mom. Helping her today and then putting her in her place. I love you.”

  “Love you too. Get your sweet ass in the house. Now,” I grunt, swatting said sweet ass.

  She yelps and giggles, scurrying away from me. When the door shuts, I release a breath I’ve been holding since Cait showed up.

  I miss Sorcha and Bert. Seeing Cait and Alannah together fucking hurt. I don’t want to hurt like this. Fuck, I was almost jealous. That’s sick, twisted and unfair. I should be happy Alannah has her family. That my son will have more than just Alannah and me. But I’m not in this moment. Right now under the hot July sun, I’m hurt and moving toward pissed.

  I sit on the log and stone rail, swing my legs off the porch and just breathe. I miss being alone. I won’t be alone again in my life, and I’m okay with that. But I miss solitude in moments like this. I could use a day or two with no interruptions or distractions. Just a bit of quiet to clear my thoughts and figure shit out.

  Fuck, I sound weak even to myself right now. I miss my mom. I miss my dad. I miss my lonely life. I need a good smack upside the head.

  “What the fuck?!” I shout as a massive pile of bird shit lands on my head and face.

  I rip my T-shirt off and scrub what I’m certain is the biggest crap a bird has ever taken off myself. The trees begin to sway, rustling the leaves and making the branches bow. Then I hear it. Sorcha’s airy laughter is whipping all around me, dancing through the wind.

  “I miss you,” I whisper, hoping she’ll say something to me.

  The wind continues to churn as I strain to hear anything. I don’t care if it’s crazy or if I imagine it, but I need her right now.

  Time passes and the wind continues without a whisper from my mother. With defeat in my shoulders, I finish wiping bird shit off me. If she can’t talk to me, I’m going to talk to her. I hop off the porch and walk into the trees.

  “I’m gonna be a father. Did you know that? If you were here, you’d tell me you knew before anyone, and we could argue about how crazy you are.” I snort and keep talking. “Alannah’s incredible and she’ll be an awesome mom. But I’m afraid I’ll be a shitty dad. That I’ll try to be as good as you and Bert were, only to end up fucking it up. You two are the only thing I had in life. I don’t know how to do this without you. How the fuck am I supposed to help the bearers, support Alannah, be a dad and continue to make money? I need you so much right now!” I yell with a crackle of emotion in my voice.

  “I hate myself for not saving you. You saved me for thirty years and the one time I had the chance to return the favor, I fucked up. I don’t even know what happened to Bert. I sent him off by himself to be slaughtered, and I don’t even have the balls to find out how he died. I’m a shitty son. And I know you still wouldn’t be disappointed. That you always loved me no matter what I did. I need that now. I need your love because the motherfuckers that tried to figure out how to kill me in a lab for months got that shit wrong. They succeeded the first night they took me. Because when they killed you, I died too,” I sob, dropping to my knees.

  Tears stream down my cheeks as I cry for my mom like a lost little boy. And that’s how I feel right now. I didn’t get to mourn her in Canyon Nine. And now that I can, it’s hitting me like that six-story building did. I feel like I’m being crushed with guilt and despair.

  “You promised no harm would come to me!” I bellow, looking up through the branches into the bright sun. I’m so mad at this stupid fucking world that would make me a bearer and allow someone as pure as Sorcha to be ripped from its soul. I don’t understand.

  “Kane,” Alannah calls out sadly from behind me.

  I shake my head, embarrassed and in pain.

  “She’s with you. She’s with all of us. Can’t you feel her?” my woman urges, kneeling in front of me.

  With one tiny hand on my cheek and another covering my heart, Alannah says, “A mother’s love never dies. She’s here in your heart, guiding you every day. She’s in our son, helping him grow. And she’s here with me, giving me the strength to look you in the eye and tell you, it’s not your fault.”

  I move to push her away, but she leans forward, her electric blue eyes shimmering with tears as she rests her forehead against mine.

  “You saved me. I have days that I hate myself because you saved me and not her. But every time I have those thoughts, our son rolls and kicks with such ferocity that I know Sorcha’s disagreeing with me. I’m so sorry you lost your mother. And I’m even sorrier that you lost her just when your life imploded. I wish like hell she could be here tellin’ us weird shit and makin’ us laugh. But I’m not sorry that I have you. I’m not sorry that we have our baby. I’m not sorry that you saved the bearers. I’m not sorry that I’ll have a future filled with love and family because you fought like a warrior to keep me safe. Sorcha knew what an amazing man you are, and she would be proud of you,” she insists as tears roll down her cheeks.

  The wind rips around us as I press my lips to Alannah’s, tasting our salty tears.

  Come home, Kane.

  I shudder when Sorcha’s voice whispers through the trees and my woman gasps.

  “Did you hear that?” she asks, wide-eyed.

  I nod, still unable to speak.

  “Let’s go home,” she beams, hugging me tightly as I cradle her against my chest, breathing a sigh of relief that my mother is listening to me.

  Then I remember her once telling me, “A bird shitting on you is good luck. Your day can only get better after that. And if it gets worse, you’ll still have something to laugh about.”

  I love you, Mom.

  After I got my wits about me and stopped sobbing like a baby, Alannah and I took a nap together. I held her against me tightly while I palmed my son and tried to remember that being alive is a gift. I slept deeply and when I woke up, I made love to my woman until my heart hurt a fraction less.

  I decided in that moment pussy would be my grief counseling. Well, this moment actually.

  “You wanna be my treatment?” I ask, releasing o
ne of Alannah’s nipples from my mouth as my dick goes limp inside her.

  “Weird question,” she hisses as I pinch her other nipple I’m holding between my thumb and forefinger.

  “I feel a little better after bein’ in your pussy so I think I’ll use her as my therapist,” I mumble as I move my mouth along her collarbone. My dick likes the plan because he’s already coming back to life.

  “I’m not sure you’re supposed to say the words ‘use’ and ‘pussy’ in the same sentence,” my woman snarks.

  “You like it when I use your pussy,” I purr into her ear, thrusting forward as far as my hips will allow.

  “Kane,” she half moans, half complains.

  Two sharp knocks on the door break the moment.

  “What?!” I shout into the pillow next to Alannah’s head as she snickers at me.

  That spurs me to pound into her a few times. It works because she stops fucking laughing at my frustration and growls some of her own frustration when Chann announces, “Ronan’s ten minutes out.”

  “Not enough time,” I groan into her neck.

  Her pussy clenches around me, begging me to give her what she wants.

  “Quickie,” I grunt.

  Alannah’s tiny body is getting rounder by the day. Her tits are bigger, and her hips are wider, but pretty much everything is in her belly. We’ve started to get creative with our positions, so I’m not squishing her or the baby. But I needed to see her face the last time, watch her big blues as she came undone.

  Now is about getting down to business.

  I pull out, and Alannah smacks me in the shoulder, thinking I’m stopping.

  “That’s not nice,” I growl, dragging her by the ankles to the edge of the bed.

  “Sorry,” she feigns innocence.

  Once her ass is almost hanging off the bed, I plow back inside her pussy, holding her legs flat against my torso. She holds onto the edge of the mattress for dear life as I pound into her. I want to look into Alannah’s eyes, but her tits bouncing have me distracted.

 

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