I was getting there.
“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you get anywhere near my wife!”
“Can’t stop me if you’re dead.”
He punched me a few times in the ribs. I wasn’t sure how that was supposed to kill me, but it seemed to help him with the rage that was building in his chest. I managed to connect with his upper back when he let me go, sending him sprawling again. I had exactly two seconds to pull at the rope again. The pain was excruciating, but I could feel my thumbs giving way.
And then he had a gun in his hands.
“Not the way I wanted to do it, but I’m done playing games. Maybe your wife will be more accommodating.”
“Unlikely.”
He stood and aimed, his eyes a little crossed as he struggled to focus despite the swelling and the pain. I waited, still tugging at the rope. When the gun went off, I was pretty sure it was over for me. At least there wouldn’t be any more pain.
But then he fell. Not me.
He fell, the top of his head missing.
Chapter 29
Stacy
I’d never fired a weapon before. Never. I wasn’t even sure what to do beyond the whole pull the trigger part. I didn’t expect the kickback. And I wasn’t prepared for the sight of his head exploding in front of me.
I don’t know what was more disturbing, the fact that I’d just killed a man, or the sight of my husband, bloody and bruised, hanging from a rope in the center of the room.
He was staring at me as if he’d never seen me before.
“Stacy?”
I dropped the gun and ran to him. He groaned when I threw my arms around his waist, pressing my head to the center of his chest.
“I thought I’d never see you again.”
“I’m okay.”
But he wasn’t. There was blood. Everywhere there was blood. I couldn’t move, couldn’t think. I had to get him down, but I couldn’t begin to figure out how. But then there were gentle hands pulling me back. Ian and Kyle carefully cut Killian down and helped him to one of the tarp-covered couches. There was some discussion about who should go where, who should do what. I didn’t hear any of it. I couldn’t stop looking at Killian.
He was alive.
They took us home and said something about sending a doctor around. They wanted to help clean him up, but I took my husband upstairs alone, taking the steps one at a time. What a symbolic moment for our marriage! In the master bedroom, I guided him to the bathtub, carefully undressed him and helped him inside. I wet a washcloth, lathered it with soap, and washed away the blood that stained his chest. I washed the wounds on his hands. I carefully moved my hand as gently around his bruises and cuts as I could.
“Stacy,” he whispered, catching the side of my face, “are you okay?”
“I did this.”
He shook his head, but I wouldn’t let him talk me down.
“I did this. I created this situation, and I nearly lost you.”
“I told you, I’m not going anywhere.”
Tears began to roll down my cheeks. “I love you.” I kissed him, softly. “I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. But I do love you. I’ve always loved you. I’m so sorry for what I did.”
“I believe you.”
He couldn’t have said anything better. I knew he loved me. I knew he would have stayed with me no matter what I’d done. But to hear him say that, to know that he believed the things that came out of my mouth after all the lies and secrets…that was everything.
He was everything.
Chapter 30
Killian
My ankle was broken. Three ribs on my right side were broken. My left thumb was broken. My thigh was not broken, but the bruise he’d given me was so deep that it might as well have been. Pain medication was a godsend the first few days, but the pain was growing more tolerable now.
It’d been two weeks. Despite my injuries, it was the best two weeks of my life. Stacy was at my side day and night, refusing to leave me on my own. I’d never enjoyed lying in bed watching reality television so much in all my life.
“His name was Stephen Wallace,” I said one night.
“Stephen. How did you find that out?”
“Ian did his computer thing and figured it out. He was born in New Orleans, but lived in New York until fifteen years ago.”
“Did he have a family?”
“No.”
“No kids?”
“No, babe.”
She crawled into my lap, careful of my injuries. “Do you think I’ll go to hell for killing him?”
“No.”
She kissed my jaw lightly. “Do you think he’ll go to hell for killing Davis and all the others?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away. I’m sorry that I hired him in the first place.”
“Can I ask you something?”
She pulled back slightly. “Uh, oh. It’s never good when you ask that.”
“He said that you called him the night he first attacked me and gave him the go-ahead.”
She climbed off my lap and curled into the chair beside mine. She was quiet for a long moment, staring at her hands, at her fingers pressing into her own flesh.
“It was the night you told me you had to come back to Boston. You said you wanted to marry me, and it just seemed…I thought you’d killed Davis the night before our wedding, so I thought it would be appropriate if you died the night you asked me to marry you.”
“Why?”
“Because you refused to commit for years before that. Because you were happy. Because he was supposed to tell you that I was the one who hired him.”
“You wanted me to know it was you.”
“I wanted you to hurt.”
“That would have done it.”
“But you know that things have changed. I changed. I called him that night.”
“I know.”
“I tried to call him off.”
“I know.”
“Killian…”
“My only problem is, I can’t figure out what changed in those few hours.”
She shrugged. “I realized that I didn’t want you dead.”
“Before you knew that I didn’t have anything to do with Davis’ death?”
“Yeah.” She dragged her fingers through her hair. “I was stupid. I thought…I thought I was punishing Pops, but I was only punishing myself.”
I held out my hand to her. “You have to talk to Pops.”
She shook her head, standing and pacing along the edge of the back deck. I watched her, not in so much pain that I couldn’t appreciate the way her curves moved under her thin dress. She paced for a long few minutes, then she turned and looked at me.
“I wouldn’t know what to say.”
“It’ll probably come to you.”
She shook her head again, but then she came and climbed into my lap. I pulled her close against me, running my hand slowly down the length of her back.
“No more secrets.”
“Well, I have one more little thing I need to tell you then.”
“Oh?”
I steeled myself, wondering what more I could take. But then she took my hand and pressed it to the lower bit of her belly.
“You’re going to be a daddy.”
I pushed her back so that I could see her face.
“Say that again?”
“I’m pregnant. You’re going to be a daddy.”
I couldn’t even begin to describe the feelings that rushed through me in that moment. I cupped her face in my hands and drew her close.
“I love you.”
She sighed. “I wasn’t sure you would want kids now.”
“Of course, I do. Stace…that is fantastic!”
She sighed, her lips sliding over my chin. “I love you….”
***
Ian stopped by a couple of days later.
“Things have settled down again. No one’s disappeared in a few days, no one’
s had the cops called on them. In fact, the cops have backed off a little on most of our properties.”
“Good.”
“It’s like whoever was behind all this has decided to go on vacation for a while.”
“Let’s hope it’s a permanent vacation.”
“Pops thinks that this hitman, this Stephen Wallace, was behind it all somehow.”
That was an optimistic thought. But I could tell by the look on Ian’s face that it wasn’t reality.
“I’ve checked all his assets, everything I could find out about him. This guy…he couldn’t have known some of the things that this mole knows. And he was out of the country when Brianna was kidnapped.”
“He could have had accomplices.”
“Could have, but there’s just too many things against the idea. He couldn’t have been the mole.”
So we were back to square one.
Fantastic.
Chapter 31
Stacy
Mom had pancreatic cancer. She lay in a hospital bed the day Pops told her about it, an IV in her arm and a good forty pounds lighter than she’d been two weeks ago when they told us they were going out of town on vacation. They weren’t on vacation, though. They were getting second opinions.
“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”
Pops didn’t say anything. He was staring at his hands, his face pale. “We wanted to be sure before we told you kids.”
“You’re sure?” Kevin asked. “There’s nothing they can do?”
“Nothing but make her comfortable. She doesn’t want the chemo and all the other stuff. She wants to just be with you kids until the end comes.”
“Is she in pain?”
They both looked at me, Pops’ eyes filled with tears, Kevin’s with grief.
“They’re making her as comfortable as they can,” Pops said again.
Kevin couldn’t handle it. He ran from the room. And I…I didn’t know what to do.
Then we went to see her. She was so frail…
“Finish school, Stacy,” she said to me as she held my hand, hers so small and frail, so cold, that my heart broke. “Go to college. Have a good life.”
Tears rolled down my cheeks. “I can’t do it without you, Mom.”
“You can. You’re stronger than you think you are. And you have your brothers, especially Killian.”
Pain still ripped through my chest whenever I thought about it.
I hated that I missed those few weeks when we could have had our long talks, we could have discussed what came next. But she was so weak by the time Pops told us.
And now I was supposed to forgive him for that.
I went to his office because I knew that Cassidy wouldn’t be there to interrupt. He had a new assistant, a young woman with glasses, a severe ponytail, and no color in her cheeks. She was quiet, but her eyes suggested that if I kept him longer than the ten minutes she had allotted me, she might cut my head off.
Pops brought me a bottle of water as he joined me on the couch.
“This is a nice surprise.” He smiled as he sat back and regarded me. “How’s Killian?”
“Doing better. Doctor says he should be able to lose the cast on his ankle in another month.”
“That’s good. We could really use him back here at the office.”
“He’s getting a little stir crazy. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”
“Good.”
I studied his face, noticing for the first time all the things that had changed in him in these last few years. There were new wrinkles beside his eyes, less hair on the crown of his head. His red hair was whiter than it’d been five years ago. But he was still Pops, still the man who stepped in where my drunk father had failed. He was still the man who played Santa Claus on Christmas morning, the man who watched proudly as I had my First Communion, the man who held my hand as I waited for my prom date to arrive.
“Are you happy?”
His eyebrows rose. “Am I? Yes, I am.”
“You’re happy with Cassidy and Brianna?”
“I’m happy that all my children are safe and sound. I’m happy that the business is doing well. I’m happy that my wife and daughter are safe in my home. And I’m happy that you and Killian are back in Boston.”
“Why didn’t you object to our marriage?”
He shrugged. “Because I knew that the only way I was going to be a part of your life was if I didn’t stand in the way of your happiness.” He studied me a moment. “Are you happy?”
“Yes.”
“That’s all I want for my children.”
I touched my belly, thinking absently about how complicated having a child can make things.
“Stacy, I realize that keeping Abigail’s diagnosis from you seemed harsh. But it was what she wanted. She knew that the end would not be pleasant, and she wanted to keep you guys from it for as long as possible.”
I was beginning to see that. It would have been just like Mom to try to protect us until the very end.
I stood up and curled up on the loveseat beside him. I could remember coming here when I was kid, sitting next to him as he worked, pretending I was working too by drawing pictures or doing my homework. I wanted to be just like my dad when I grew up.
“I’m sorry, Pops. I never should have blamed you for everything.”
“Who else could you blame? Mom was gone.”
I nodded, tears suddenly filling my eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
He slipped his arm around me. “It’s okay, darling. You’re fine. We’re fine.”
“Thank you for being my dad.”
He groaned, tears coming into his eyes, too.
“I love you, Stacy. Nothing you can say or do will ever change that.”
I believed him. I believed that he loved me. I believed that he would always love me.
I was stupid, running away. Family was all that mattered.
Chapter 32
Killian
Stacy came home late, long after I was already in bed. It was normally the other way around, but she was taking classes at Boston College now. This class had something to do with journalism and she often went out for coffee with her classmates afterward. She stripped and crawled into bed beside me, pressing the length of her body against me. She was almost five months pregnant now, her belly swollen and gorgeous. I loved it. She thought she looked lumpy and less than beautiful, but I did everything I could to prove to her that that wasn’t true.
She moved against me and began kissing my neck, her fingers moving slowly over my chest. She had my tats memorized now. She could find her favorites in the dark. I knew her touch like I knew the back of my hand. I pulled her close and pulled her lips up to mine.
We made love slowly, coming together with the familiarity of our nearly six month’s old marriage. She moaned as I entered her, moving her hips back against mine.
“I love you,” she whispered softly.
“Not as much as I love you.”
It was sappy and syrupy, the kind of thing I swore I would never say. But there are a lot of things that go flying out the window when you find the happiness you never thought you would find.
I pressed my hand to her belly as we moved, whispering more words that were almost too intimate to repeat. And then she cried out and I knew, knew that her body was responding to my touch in the most amazing way possible. And then I…it was always something of a surprise, this pleasure that ripped through my body.
We were curled up together afterward, my hand still against her belly when I felt this sudden little quiver.
“What is that?”
She laughed, leaning back against my shoulder. “That’s your son or daughter.”
“That’s the baby?”
“It is.”
I ran my hand slowly over her belly, waiting to feel it again. When it came, I laughed, unable to hold the excitement back.
“That’s the baby? How can something so small make such a big movement?”
“You should fe
el it from this side.”
“Wish I could.”
She leaned back against me and kissed my neck. “I know.”
“How long has he been doing this?”
“He?”
I smiled against her shoulder. “A man can hope, right?”
“Of course, but I didn’t know you wanted a boy.”
“A girl would be great, too. One who looks exactly like you.”
She pushed back against me, chuckling a little.
“You are a charmer.”
“How long has he been moving?”
“It started yesterday. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think it would be strong enough for you to feel. I guess I was wrong.”
“He’s strong, this one.”
“Just like his father.”
***
I settled behind my desk, setting the phone in its cradle. Pops walked in—a surprise all in its own. He never came to my office when he could call me up to his. “Cassidy wants to buy something for the baby, but she doesn’t want to offend Stacy.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “What kind of something?”
“Furniture. Clothes. Blankets and stuff.”
“We don’t need much in the way of furniture. Stacy’s already bought everything she thinks we need.”
“Yeah?”
“But she might need help putting the nursery together. Do you think Cassidy would be interested in doing that?”
“Sure. She loves doing stuff like that.”
Stacy had forgiven Pops, but she was still struggling with Cassidy living in Mom’s house. I wasn’t sure how much she’d like having Cassidy doing something so motherly with her. But it was worth the chance.
“I’ll arrange it.”
Chapter 33
Cassidy
“I should be doing this for you, you know.”
“Soon,” Brianna said as she finished adjusting my veil. “I just have to meet the guy.”
“You will.”
She stepped back and smiled, her eyes dancing with joy.
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