Transcending Darkness

by Airicka Phoenix

  She said nothing for so long, he wondered if she’d frozen in place. She studied him with those doe brown eyes filled with tears and something he wasn’t entirely certain he wanted a name for. Finally, she pulled herself up. She dragged her coat together over her clothes and hugged her middle as though a chill had passed through the room.

  “If that’s your way of getting me to stop being angry, then it’s very underhanded.”

  “No, love.” He moved around the desk until he was directly in front of her. “That’s me trying to keep you safe. Jake and Melton have their orders and you…” He took her warm face between his palms. “Are to follow them, do you hear me? If you ever pull anything as foolish and reckless as that again, I will put you over my knee and I promise you won’t walk straight for a week.”

  Anger flashed across her eyes. “I was worried about you. No one was telling me if you were all right. What was I supposed to do?”

  “Not climb fifteen feet down a tree!” he retorted, feeling his own anger climbing. “Never mind that you could have arrived here in the middle of what happened and gotten killed or captured, but what if you’d fallen and broken your fool neck? What then? I have half a mind to fire the whole group and—”

  “No!” Her hands flew to the front of his shirt and fisted. “No! Please, please don’t do that.”

  “Then I trust that we have an agreement? You will not dodge your security group again, right?”

  “I won’t,” she said a bit too quickly. “I promise.”

  Killian narrowed his eyes. “While I love this complying side of you, I can’t help feeling you have an ulterior motive for it.”

  She swallowed audibly. “Vi’s grown very fond of Phil,” she blurted quickly. “He seems to be very good for her. She’s a completely different person, a good person since he’s been with her.”

  “Juliette!” With a frustrated growl, he rubbed a palm over his face. “He’s a bodyguard, not a … a shrink!”

  “I know, but please, you don’t understand.” She bore imploringly up at him. “We’ve been talking, Killian. Actually talking. That has never happened. She’s always been so angry and I … I never cared. Not once. Our entire lives I’ve considered her a burden, a pain in the ass that I had to deal with, that I never stopped to even try and understand her. But he did. He listened to her and did all the things I should have. I know it’s selfish and pathetic, but if you take him away, I know she’ll never forgive me.”

  “Jesus Christ!”

  He moved away from her and went to stand at the window overlooking what had been his mother’s garden. It was a wasteland of dirt and lonely structures.

  “Killian, please,” Juliette whispered. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

  Tempting. Oh, so tempting. The number of things he wanted from her rolled around in his mind the way a toy catalogue would for a child just before Christmas.

  “Come to the club with me tonight,” he said instead, glancing back over his shoulder. “I have work and we can finish this discussion there.”

  Juliette seemed to consider this a moment before asking with a hint of wariness that almost amused him, “Does this mean Phil can stay?”

  Killian turned back to the window. “For now.”

  Nodding reluctantly, she took a step back. “I’ll run home and change then. I can meet you—”

  “No need.” He twisted around to face her fully. “I’ll come with you.”

  Chapter 16

  Before her parents had died and their house had been homey and furnished with nice things, Juliette had never had qualms about inviting people over; her mother had made the place like something out of a fancy catalogue. After having to sell the really nice stuff and replace some of it with ratty, used items, it looked more like a rundown crack house. At least in Juliette’s opinion. Most of the rooms were bare and layered in dust while the rest held furniture no one ever wanted to sit on. It was a far cry from the extravagance of Killian’s manor. Yet she could find no way to discourage him from crossing into her dark, dank world without coming off as insane, or worse, embarrassed, which she was. To herself, she could fully admit that she was devastatingly ashamed of her home, the place she’d grown up in, the place she’d fought like hell to keep.

  Neither of them spoke as they hurtled through the city in the backseat of the black SUV with Melton and Frank sitting like mute statues in the front. Occasionally, she’d see Melton’s arm turn as he twisted the wheel, but he was rigid otherwise. Jake had squished himself into the seat on Juliette’s other side, forcing her between him and Killian. The latter she didn’t mind so much, but her new companions were a different story. Neither had said a word to her since appearing on her doorstep to replace John and Tyson. They’d introduced themselves and told her they would be taking over, but that was all.

  She missed John and Tyson. They hadn’t been friendly or chatty, but she had grown fond of them in the three months they’d been together.

  A sigh escaped her and she turned her head to stare out the window. The world was a muted blur behind the tint. Shops glinted and people roamed the sidewalks even as night packed around them. The sun had gone down several hours earlier, making the time appear much later than it was. Overhead, a thick overcast curdled across the heavens, threatening snow. Juliette inwardly cringed.

  “There is an event I would like you to attend with me.” Killian’s voice drew her away from the depression weaving its way around her. “It’s a Christmas party of sorts.”

  Juliette’s eyebrows swung up. “Christmas party in November?” She considered it a moment. “I suppose that makes sense. Most of the days in December would be taken.”

  “No, the party isn’t until the second week of December, but I know how you are with surprises and parties if you’re not given proper notice.”

  She grimaced. “I still owe you for that, don’t I?”

  He made a quiet humming sound. “You can make it to me by wearing your new dress to this event.”

  “All right. You’ll have to give me the date and time.”

  They pulled up in the driveway of her home. Unlike the others around it, hers sat dark and foreboding. A few of her neighbors had already hung their Christmas lights or at the very most, had their porch lit. The blinds were drawn over all her windows and no one had bothered with the porch light. Already the place made her cringe. Her stomach muscles tightened in dread as Jake held open her door. She managed a weak thank you as she slid out and made her way up the cracked walkway. Behind her, she was painfully aware of Killian’s quiet presence.

  They climbed up the steps together, but made it as far as the front door when it was jerked open by Laurence. He bowed his head to Killian before stepping aside to let them in.

  The dining room with the sleeping cots sat in absolute darkness. On the other side of the foyer, the living room was lit solely by a single lamp that illuminated the lumpy sofa and faded wallpaper. Down the hall, the kitchen glowed the brightest. She went there.

  “You’ve got to work it with your knuckles,” Mrs. Tompkins was saying when Juliette stepped onto the threshold. “Really get in there.”

  The scene took Juliette a moment to figure out. For one, she couldn’t fathom how the entire place could smell like warm, freshly baked bread and a donkey’s ass, if said donkey’s ass was made of burnt bread. For another, Vi was shoulder to shoulder with the older woman, sweater sleeves rolled up to her elbows as she pounded into a ball of slightly dry dough. Her forearms were caked in flour, as was her face, her hair and most of the kitchen. But she looked like she was having the time of her life.

  “What’s going on here?” Juliette wondered out loud as she braved a few more steps closer.

  In the corner of the room, rigid and watchful, Phil caught her eye briefly and gave her the slightest of nods that she returned with a half-smile before focusing on the pair at the island again.

  “I’m learning to make one of those knotted French breads,” Vi declared, holding up her clum
p of dough. “I nearly made one earlier, but … there was an accident.”

  Juliette glanced over at the chunk of crispy, black steaming on a rack on the counter by the sink.

  “I see…” she mumbled. “I didn’t realize you wanted to learn to bake.”

  “Oh, I don’t.” Vi laughed. “It’s hard and messy.” She smacked the dough down and smashed it with one fist. “But I get to beat on it so that kind of makes up for it.”

  Mrs. Tompkins chuckled. “Don’t listen to her. She’s a natural.”

  Juliette opened her mouth when a movement behind her reminded her that she had company.

  Quickly, she stepped aside so Killian could step into the mess.

  “Uh, Vi, Mrs. Tompkins, this is Killian McClary.”

  Vi’s head shot up much faster than Mrs. Tompkins, who seemed unconcerned by yet another new person in their normally empty house.

  She offered Killian a small, kind smile. “It’s nice to meet you.” was all she said to him, before turning her attention to Vi once more. “Add some water to your dough.”

  Vi wasn’t listening. She was staring with wide eyed interest at Killian.

  “You’re Killian,” she blurted, with the glimmer of a cat having finally spotted the elusive mouse. “Well, you’re much better looking than I’d imagined.”

  “Vi!” Horrified, Juliette gawked at her sister’s unabashed greeting.

  “Thank you,” Killian said with just a hint of amusement.

  Vi nodded. “I always thought Columbian drug lords had greasy black hair and pockmarked skin and tattoos. But you are much better.”

  In the corner, Phil shifted and Vi’s gaze darted to him before snapping back to Killian, who was biting his lip so hard Juliette was afraid he’d tear a hole in it.

  “Crap, was that rude?” Vi hissed through her teeth. “I’m working on my filter. Sometimes I forget.”

  Killian burst out laughing. The sound was a rolling rumble that echoed through the house in waves. It coursed over Juliette in a warm caress that left her skin tingling.

  “Killian isn’t Columbian,” Juliette murmured, biting back her own laughter as it bubbled up her chest. “He’s Irish and he’s not a drug lord … are you?”

  Killian shook his head, still grinning broadly. “No.”

  “Ah!” Vi said like that made much more sense. “That explains it then. Irish guys are stupid hot.” She grabbed a box of yeast and shoved it towards Killian. “Read this.”

  It was a task not to face palm.

  Killian took the box, but set it down carefully. His eyes shone with silent laughter as he regarded Vi.

  “It’s lovely to meet you, Viola.”

  Vi’s jaw unhinged and a sort of hazy glaze crept across her eyes. “Wow … have you got a brother? Preferably younger.”

  Juliette did face palm that time.

  Killian chuckled. “Sorry. Just me.”

  Vi exhaled, the sound full of dejected sorrow. “Figures. Suppose I’ll have to find my own gorgeous Irish guy. Wonder if I can order one online…”

  “Water!” Mrs. Tompkins elbowed her and nudged the bowl of water closer with sticky, doughy fingers.

  Vi shot her a glower before sprinkling a few drops over her flaking ball. She rubbed it in and kneaded the dough.

  “Don’t understand why we have to keep watering the damn thing,” she muttered. “It’s not a bloody flower…” She paused and considered that a moment. “The growing kind of … oh, never mind.”

  Juliette turned to Killian. “I’m sorry. I swear she’s not normally like that. At least, not since recently.”

  Lips still quirked, Killian turned his head to her. “I like her.”

  Juliette arched a brow. “You would. She all but licked your ego.”

  “Mm,” he purred just loud enough for her to hear. “I prefer you licking it anyway.”

  Her panties grew damp at the suggestive murmur that sent a ripple of heat working through her. Her cheeks warmed and she quickly averted her eyes before anyone else could notice.

  “I should change,” she mumbled.

  “I’ll come with you,” Killian decided, body already turning towards the doorway. “I’m curious about your room.”

  “My … room?”

  Juliette hurried after him. No one stopped them as they climbed the steps to the second floor. Juliette led the way down the dark, narrow hallway to the very least for at the end.

  “This is it,” she murmured, reaching for the knob.

  Killian plucked up one of the photos she’d pinned to the corkboard nailed to her door. They were old, as most of her photos were, but she kept them as a reminder that her life hadn’t always been a nightmare. That there had been a time when she’d been happy. It was a collage of her with her friends. There were a few of her with her parents and even a couple with Stan that, despite everything, she couldn’t bring herself to toss. Around it were words she’d cut out of magazines and friendship bracelets she no longer wore. But Killian went straight for the picture of her standing between a group of four other girls. He took it off the board to examine better.

  It had been one of the last trips she’d taken with the girls. They stood just outside the iron gate guarding his hill. Looking back on it, she was stunned to realize that all that time, he’d been just on the other side.

  “I used to dream of owning a house up there,” she murmured. “My friends and I would drive up and pretend to house shop. We never went as far as the very top, but…”

  Killian said nothing. He returned the photo and gave her a nod.

  Gingerly, she pushed open the door and stepped inside with him at her heels.

  “This is it,” she proclaimed with a wave of her arm.

  This, was a four poster bed she’d begged her parents for for nearly six months. It was the matching end tables, dresser, and vanity and their crown molding edges and white paint. The bed took up most of the room, but she had still managed to shove a desk into one corner, a bookshelf in the other and a wooden chest sat at the foot. On the other side of the dresser, was the door to her own personal bathroom. As bedrooms went, it was every teenagers dream. But Juliette hadn’t been a teenage in years, nor had she had enough money to upgrade to something more … adult. Instead, she’d removed most of the girly pictures and posters and had tossed the stuffed animals she’d collected over the years. It no longer resembled a young girls room, but it wasn’t glaring.

  Killian wandered to her bed and sat, making her thankful she tidied up that morning, like a part of her had been expecting his visit. There wasn’t a stray pair of pantries in sight.

  “Tell me about your sister,” he said, surprising her.

  “Vi? Why?”

  “Well, you said that’s not normally how she is, so tell me what she’s normally like.”

  The question was a reasonable one, maybe even expected, but Juliette had nothing. She stared at him while her mind raced with all the things she ought to know of her own sister, but didn’t. Vi was a stranger.

  “I don’t know,” she admitted, ashamed. “I don’t know anything about her. I never wanted to.” Dropping her gaze, she walked over and claimed the spot next to him. Her shoulder bumped his as she studied the knotted fingers in her lap. “I was seven when she was born. I was the only girl on both sides of the family and I was spoiled rotten and I loved it. I never wanted a sister. In my mind, she took away all that love and attention that had been mine from the beginning. I hated her. That hate never went away, not even after Mom died. It just turned into a sort of selfish need to protect the only person I had left. I never took time to see if she was okay. I hadn’t cared that she’d lost her parents as well and was as alone as I was. I stuck her in school or with Mrs. Tompkins and considered my duties complete so long as she had food and a roof over her head.”

  “You didn’t let Arlo have her,” Killian pointed out softly. “It would have made your job easier if you had.”

  “No.” She pushed a lock of hair behind her e
ar. “No matter what, she’s still my sister. I would never have done that. I just abandoned and neglected her instead.” She drew in a breath. “We might never be friends, but I have to fix some of the damage I’ve caused. Right now, that seems to be Phil. He’s helped her way more than I’ve ever done. He didn’t chalk her up as hopeless and … she has changed so much in the last few months. I honestly don’t even recognize her anymore.” She fixed her eyes on the man sitting shoulder to shoulder with her. “I know he’s a bodyguard and this isn’t part of his job description, but she needs him.”

  Prodding black eyes searched hers with a quiet contemplation. “She needs you, love. She needs her sister.”

  “I don’t know how to be that.”

  The bedsprings jingled with the shift of his weight as he reached over and lightly brushed the side of her face.

  “You’ve got one of the kindest hearts I’ve seen in a long time, Juliette. You’ll figure it out.” He rose. “Get dressed. I’ll wait downstairs.”

  He walked out and shut the door behind him. Juliette remained seated on her bed, thinking over what he’d said about Vi needing her and coming up empty; there was no way to right sixteen years of wrong. How could there be?

  Heavy hearted, Juliette got to her feet and padded to her closet. She pulled out a pair of jeans and a sweater. Both were tossed down on the bed when the door opened. She expected it to be Killian, but Vi poked her head in.

  “You needed to see me?”

  Juliette frowned. “I did?”

  Vi walked in. “Killian said you needed help picking out something to wear.”

  It wasn’t exactly spelled out, but she understood what Killian was telling her: no time like the present to mend bridges.

  She offered Vi her best smile. Even then, it felt horribly tight.

  “Yeah.” She motioned to the set she’d picked out. “What do you think?”

  Vi frowned. “Where are you going?”

  “Killian owns a club, Ice—”