Limit

by McAdams, Molly

  “Why?”

  Conor stared at a spot on the floor for a second before lifting his head and looking at me with resolve. “Because Zachary’s still alive.”

  A stunned breath left my lungs when I realized he was serious. “I’m sorry?”

  “After what he did to Einstein, none of us would’ve let him live. That he turned out to be your husband made it complicated because there was more danger for you and it created a conflict, but none of us are going to forget what he did to her.” He looked me dead in the eyes. “And I can’t forget what he did to you.”

  “You . . .” I shook my head, trying to figure out how these words could actually be leaving my tongue. “You’re going to kill Zachary?”

  “As soon as he’s found.”

  My mind was slow to catch up and demand clarification. “Wait, would you?”

  “In a heartbeat.” There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation. Those few words rang with honesty and a sort of knowledge that had a brick settling in my stomach.

  “Have you—”

  “Don’t ask that,” he said on a breath.

  An answer in and of itself.

  It suddenly felt hard to breathe as I pictured the man before me, the one who had worshipped and loved me the other night, in that life . . . killing someone.

  “That’s everything,” he said gruffly as he stood.

  “Where are you going?”

  He lifted his hands slightly at his sides, coffee cup in hand. “Giving you space. Time.” He had only gone a couple steps when he turned to face me. “No matter what, I will protect you and Lexi with my life.”

  My heart both swelled and ached. “I know.”

  If there was anything I was sure of, it was that.

  The sun was finally starting to rise when I pushed from the couch in search of Conor.

  He hadn’t left me that long ago, and I wasn’t sure that I’d thought through anything at all. There was just so much information . . . so many lies and secrets that I could barely concentrate.

  Couldn’t begin to wrap my mind around the type of life this man had lived.

  I found him standing against the door, just as I knew I would, and came to a stop right in front of him.

  “I have a question.” When he dipped his head, I said, “You told me that before ARCK, you protected women. Why did you lie when I already knew you were keeping things from me?”

  “I didn’t. That was my job for the last . . . fuck, five years in the mob. I was the protector.” His head slanted, but those piercing eyes never left me as he attempted to gauge my every reaction. “Our boss’s kids had been taken out, one by one, and only his daughter had survived. We faked her death, but there was still a chance people would find out she was alive, so my job was to protect her.”

  “Did you and she . . .”

  “No.” A rough laugh sounded in his chest. “She’d been with Kieran her entire life. Ended up falling in love with Dare, the guy determined to kill her. They’re married and have a kid.”

  Unreal.

  This was all so utterly unreal.

  “And before those five years?”

  After a minute, he said, “If you really want to know, I’ll tell you.”

  “I’m not sure I do,” I said softly. “I’m not sure I can handle anything else. I can’t—” I pressed my fingers to my temple and let out a shaky breath. “I can hardly think. I feel like my head is going to explode because there’s just so much happening, and it keeps happening.”

  “Clear it.”

  A sharp huff escaped my throat as my hands fell away. “You say that as if it’s simple.”

  He pushed from the door and started to take a step toward me, but he stopped just shy of touching me. “May I?”

  “What?” My chest hitched as every thought and want and need came rushing back, just as strongly as before.

  Nothing of what he had said had changed that, and a part of me was relieved.

  It meant it was honest and real.

  Another part was so weighed down with thoughts and emotions that I couldn’t imagine being with him in that way at this moment.

  “I’ve had to clear my head a lot throughout my life. I work out when I need to. I also used to fight with Beck. Fighting’s how he kept us fed when we lived on the streets,” he explained when he saw the confusion I felt playing out on my face. He jerked his head in the direction of the living room. “So, if you still trust me to be near you, to touch you, let’s go.”

  My shoulders sagged as the barely hidden pain in his voice tore at my chest. “I wouldn’t be standing here if I didn’t.”

  We’d been going so long that the sun had fully risen and I’d lost count of how many times we’d started over.

  How many times I’d managed to break free from Conor’s hold.

  How many times he’d told me where to hit and how.

  How many times I’d punched his palms, over and over again.

  And it felt so damn good to hit something, to get that anger and that pain out, that an agonizing breath broke from me when he wrapped his arms around me and told me to go again.

  Conor’s grip on me tightened, pulling me closer against his chest. “Sutton—”

  “I hate him,” I said through clenched teeth. “I hate him for everything he did. For the way he hurt me and used me and filled me with fear that never left.”

  I twisted my hands, trying to find a weakness in Conor’s grip.

  When he realized what I was doing, his arms tightened and his mouth met my ear. “Keep going.”

  “After everything he did, I want to see him being lowered into a grave,” I seethed and struggled against his hold as my throat tightened with emotion. “I should feel like a horrible person for saying that and thinking it, but I don’t. I want him to know the fear he made me feel. I want him to feel the pain I felt. And I want him to pay for it so he can’t do it to anyone else ever again.”

  I got a hold of Conor’s thumb and pulled back until I had one hand free and then worked on the other hand, blinking against the wetness gathering in my eyes that was making it too blurry to see.

  “I hate my mother for always telling me I wasn’t good enough. For making me think that what Zachary was doing to me was normal.” Tears streamed down my face at an unforgiving pace as my body released every pent-up thought. “And I hate that Zachary turned my dream house into a goddamn nightmare. That he made me feel trapped there.”

  The moment I felt Conor’s hold loosen, I jerked my other hand free, turned, and immediately swung for his neck.

  He blocked the strike.

  And the next.

  And the next.

  He gripped my fist in his hand, refusing to let go, and then did the same with the other when I threw my next punch.

  “Keep going,” he said softly, never releasing his hold on my hands.

  My head dropped to hang between my shoulders. My body jerked with my sob.

  “I hate that you were in the mob,” I said softly. “I hate that everyone you’re surrounded by was too and that my daughter is near them. But I feel as if I know you better than maybe I even know myself.” A sad laugh fell from my lips. “In this week, I’ve come to know more about you than I ever knew about Zachary in the seven years we were married. I’ve come to trust you more.”

  I used his hold on me to pull myself up and tried to look at him through my tears.

  “I never let Lexi be alone with him. If I had known everything yesterday, I would still watch you and Kieran take her into the room and know that she was safe. That I didn’t need to worry as long as you were with her.”

  Conor’s body seemed to sag with relief. “Keep going.”

  “I don’t know what it says about me that I still want you more than my next breath, but . . . I do.”

  He released my hands and slowly wove his into my hair.

  His mouth passed across my forehead before he was pulling me against him, holding me as if I were precious and fragile.

 
“Clear?” he asked after a minute.

  A shuddering breath worked through my body, and as the last bit of air pushed from my lungs, I realized how free I felt. Emotionally drained, but free. “Clear.”

  Zachary

  I sucked in a sharp breath through my teeth when I ended the call and forced the smile that had become permanently feral this past week.

  “There’s obviously something you want to say, so say it.”

  Garret remained silent, so I turned my glare on him, only to find him smirking like the bastard he was.

  Slamming the burner phone down, I leaned forward and dropped my voice to a growl. “Told you to fucking say it.”

  He shrugged as though he didn’t have a worry in the world. As though a bullet in the head wasn’t a real possibility in the coming minutes if he didn’t stop with the goddamn smirking.

  “Find it funny,” he finally said when my hand began twitching.

  “Your mocking tone and slow-to-reveal thoughts have reached a limit. And, fuck, if I haven’t waited a long damn time for you to push me to this point.”

  That smirk only widened.

  Not a hint of fear.

  He should fear me.

  “Find it funny that your plan ended with Sutton holed up with another man.”

  I dropped back into my chair with an amused huff, all homicidal thoughts slipping away. “If you’re implying something, I’d love for you to just come out and say it.”

  “I know better than anyone how well Sutton can juggle two men.”

  A genuine smile tugged at my mouth for the first time this week.

  This game, I could play.

  “If you’re trying to make me jealous, you won’t succeed. Because no matter what you think happened back then, she always belonged to me.” I waved toward the computers and screens set up in the room and shrugged. “As for what’s happening now? Maybe in a world where she ended up with you, there would be worries of her being unfaithful. But this isn’t that world, and she’s mine.”

  That smirk died, and his jaw ticked under the pressure he was putting on it.

  “Sutton knows her place. She knows her role in this . . . and she’s playing it well.”

  Conor

  I kept my eyes trained on Sutton’s as she carried the clean laundry past where Lexi and I were coloring on the floor.

  “Yours is on your bed,” she said with a shy smile, her eyes dancing and saying a dozen other things, all of which I was begging to know.

  It wasn’t until just before she reached their bedroom that she finally looked straight ahead and slipped out of sight.

  “You need more purple.”

  I tore my attention away from the room and focused on Lexi, who was looking at my picture. “Purple? What’s wrong with what I have?”

  She rolled her eyes. “There’s no purple.”

  I flicked her forehead before reaching for the purple crayon. “Don’t roll your eyes.”

  “Momma does it.”

  Didn’t I know it. It seemed to come naturally for her. The action was also just so Sutton.

  Lexi was different—she was made of everything pure and good in the world. Someone as sweet and adorable as she was shouldn’t already be rolling her eyes.

  “Your mom is an adult,” I said, trying to think of anything that made sense. Pulling the adult card made sense. “When you’re an adult, you can roll your eyes all you want.”

  “’Kay,” she murmured.

  I dropped the crayon and held my arms out, showing off the masterpiece blob I’d drawn. “Done.”

  Lexi looked at my picture and gave it a nod of approval before sliding her paper on top of mine and pointing at the semi-stick figure people clumped together in the middle. “That’s me and that’s Momma and that’s you.”

  My fucking heart.

  It felt like it was exploding and aching and swelling all at once.

  I swallowed, trying to push past the knot suddenly taking up residence in my throat, and nodded.

  “That’s great, Lex—” A strangled laugh left me as I took a closer look at the picture. “Why do I have a crown?”

  And why the hell was my entire face a smile?

  “Because you’re Prince Charming,” she said as if I should have known.

  A fuller laugh built in my chest. I hooked an arm around Lexi’s neck and pulled her close. “I’m Prince Charming?”

  First time in my life I’d ever been called anything close to that.

  Pretty sure she was the only one who ever would see me that way. I fucking loved it.

  She gave me a duh look and reached for my face. “You have Prince Charming’s smile. I see it when you don’t smile, but it’s really a lot better when you do.”

  I was sure that, in that moment, nothing could’ve stopped my smile.

  But it fell.

  Slowly. Surely.

  Because I realized Sutton wasn’t the only one who had come to mean something to me in such a short time. This little girl had burrowed herself so deeply into my heart I had a feeling there was no removing her.

  To try would destroy me.

  I’d fucked up . . . crossed so many lines.

  My job was to help people. To keep them safe.

  To fall for a client was a hard limit.

  I’d done that. I was so far past that.

  Because these days—meals with the girls, coffee with Sutton, and coloring with Lexi—I wanted them for the rest of my life.

  I wanted to be the one who protected them from anything and everything. I wanted to tell Lexi not to roll her eyes. I wanted to fight with Sutton and wait for her to come to me so we could talk it out. I wanted everything.

  I didn’t know how to have it, though.

  I wasn’t sure I could.

  “Thanks, Lex,” I said in a gruff voice and then looked to see what she was adding to the picture.

  A shadow of a person directly behind us.

  “Who’s that?”

  “It’s Daddy,” she whispered. “Do you see his bad-man’s smile?”

  She hadn’t drawn a mouth on the shadowed person at all yet.

  I released her and watched intently as she continued to draw. “Why do you think he has a bad-man’s smile?”

  “Because I’ve seen it,” she said simply. “It’s always there. But I saw it that day for real, for real. And it is way worse when it is really there.”

  “What day?”

  Her crayon paused and her voice dropped to a low, fear-filled hush. “When he killed that man.”

  My blood slowed, grew cold. I wanted to demand to know details. To know every-damn-thing, but I was trying to figure out the best way to go about this when I was talking to a six-year-old.

  “Lexi, what do you mean he killed a man? What man?”

  Her shoulders bunched up. “He was in front of Daddy. Like this.” She rose to her knees and placed her hands behind her head, her wide eyes darted to me for a second before she dropped back to the floor and went back to coloring.

  “Can you tell me what happened?”

  Lexi’s hand stopped again, but her eyes remained on the paper for a moment. When she finally looked to me, true fear covered her face. “If I say it, his bad-man’s smile will come back.”

  “Did he tell you that?”

  Her head moved in slow, faint shakes. “That was what he told the man.”

  I was torn between wanting to hunt down the man who had put this fear in his daughter’s eyes and wanting to be there to listen to Lexi—to get a story we’d all been waiting for. “Lexi, I’ll never let him near you.”

  When she moved this time, she dropped the crayon and scooted closer to me so she could whisper in my ear. “Daddy said the man told on him. And then he went bang. Bang. Bang. I don’t want him to know I told.”

  Shit.

  I wrapped my arms tight around her and hugged her close. “He won’t. I’ll make sure of it.”

  “You promise, promise?”

  “Promise, promis
e.” I set her down and bent to be closer to her eye level. “Thank you for telling me. That was very brave. I have to talk to your mom now, though.”

  Fear fell over Lexi’s face in a second. “You can’t. The bad smile will come. It’s coming in my dreams. And Momma’s so, so scared of Daddy.”

  “Lexi, listen,” I began, my voice firm. “I’m here. I will be here. If someone comes, I’ll stop them from getting to you. But I have to talk to your mom about this, and I can’t do that until you say you understand.”

  Her mouth trembled before forming into a hard line. She lifted her chin in a way that looked so much like Sutton and nodded. “I understand.”

  “You’re so brave.” I pressed my forehead to hers and then pushed to my feet. “Stay here. Draw me a picture of the house from your dreams, okay?”

  She was nodding and lying on her stomach, already reaching for a new piece of paper before I ever turned away.

  Then I was stalking across the suite, headed for the girls’ room.

  Sutton slammed into me as she came running from the room.

  I grabbed and steadied her, already hissing under my breath, “When were you gonna tell me that Lexi saw Zachary kill someone?”

  She jerked in my hold, her face paled.

  “I’ve been asking and asking—”

  “What?” she whispered, horror coating the word. “What do you—what?”

  “I’ve given you so many goddamn opportunities to tell me what happened. Why you really ran . . . and there was never anything that hinted at this.”

  “What do—I don’t—she didn’t.”

  “She just fucking told me, Sutton. I don’t need a lot of experience with six year olds to know that fear was real.”

  Sutton looked to where Lexi was in the living room.

  It wasn’t until she called out her name that I realized she was shaking in my arms.

  Her body trembling uncontrollably as she pulled away and hurried to Lexi.

  “Lexi, baby, what did you tell Mr. Conor?”

  Lexi looked from Sutton to me as she stood, her face scrunching with worry. “I told . . . I told him about the bad-man’s smile. About when I saw it for real.”

  “When did you see it?” Sutton asked, her panic barely leashed.