Then he pulled a knife.
I danced out of his way, wishing I’d waited until later in the morning to go for my run. As it was, it was only six on a Sunday morning. Most people wouldn’t be up for church for another hour.
We dodged each other for a few minutes. He caught my forearm, a sting, but nothing serious. And then he went for my chest. I managed to dodge that one and land another blow to his jaw. Unfortunately, he saw it coming. He grabbed my wrist and twisted my arm behind my back, slicing that knife across my side as he slammed me down onto the asphalt. If he’d been able to reach his gun, I might have been killed right there and then. But he wasn’t, and I twisted, breaking his nose with the heel of my hand. Blood burst over the front of my sweatshirt. He was stunned long enough for me to slide out from under him. I dove for his gun and turned, aiming as I moved, but he was already running down the street, too far away for the shot to be accurate with the silencer on the gun.
I lay there a long moment, trying to catch my breath. My wounds were superficial, but I looked like I’d been the perpetrator in an assassination. I climbed to my feet and tugged my jacket over my chest, hiding the blood. Then I ran, tucking the gun into the back of my pants as I made my way back to the house.
And straight up to the master bedroom.
What the hell had he meant when he said it was a gift from my wife?
“Stacy!”
She rolled over, her hair falling into her eyes as she took me in.
“Did you go for a run?”
“Yeah. And I ran into our friend.”
“What friend?”
I unzipped my jacket, and she was suddenly wide awake, sitting up so quickly that her pillow fell to the floor.
“What happened?” she asked, touching the front of my shirt where it was still wet with his blood.
I grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands away from me.
“Did you hire him?”
Everything rested on her next words. And I was afraid they wouldn’t be the ones I wanted to hear.
Chapter 21
Stacy
He was covered in blood.
I touched him and some of the blood came away on my fingers. I stared at it, so confused that it didn’t really register what it was. And then he blew everything else out of my head when he asked the question I’d been dreading.
“Did you hire him?”
“Killian,” I said softly, my eyes falling to the blood on my fingers again, “I…”
“Tell me the truth. Please.”
What was I supposed to do?
No secrets.
“When I thought…I know you’re the one who killed Davis. And I was so heartbroken that I wanted to set you up, make you fall in love, and then take everything away from you as you’d done to me. But then you slept with Sara and she told me you were in love with me…I thought I could do it, but I fell in love with you.”
The words tumbled out of my mouth like a landslide. He stared at me, his eyes only growing wider and wider as he listened.
“But I changed my mind. I called it off.”
“You hired this man?”
“I wanted to hurt you and Brian for everything you’d done. But then I realized that you were only doing what you were told. It wasn’t your fault.”
His eyes narrowed. “What makes you think I had anything to do with Davis’ murder?”
“I got the call, and I went to the window. You weren’t there. For a week, you were always there, but then you weren’t.”
“Stacy…”
“Why else would you have left?”
“Because I was in love with you,” he said, his voice little more than a growl. “You were getting married the next day, and I had to stand back and watch the whole thing happen. Do you think that was easy for me?”
“You killed him.”
“No, Stacy. I was in a bar getting drunk.”
I shook my head. “No, you never left until that night. Why would you…”
“Because you were in your apartment, safe and sound. What did I need to be there for?”
“You were always there.”
“You put on your wedding dress. You were standing in front of the mirror, smiling this smile like nothing I’d ever seen before. I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t just stand there and know you were going to be someone else’s wife. I had to go.”
“You were in a bar?”
“I was. I didn’t know about Davis until Ian called me.”
“No…”
I couldn’t…that couldn’t be right. I did this because I believed he’d killed Davis. If he didn’t, then everything I’d believed all these months was wrong. And it meant that someone else…
“But who would have something against Davis? He was a college professor, a math teacher! He’d never hurt anyone!”
Something about the look in Killian’s eyes made my blood freeze.
“You know something.”
He turned his back on me, walked to the bathroom, and stripped out of his shirt. The blood stained his chest, but the only wound I saw was on his side. I walked up behind him, as he twisted to see it in the mirror. There was another cut on his arm, but it was already clotting.
“Let me.”
He met my eyes in the mirror, anger jumping in his own.
“You hired someone to kill me.”
“I thought you killed my fiancé.”
“Then it was all a lie?”
“No, of course not!” I touched his back, but he stiffened and tried to pull away. “It wasn’t a lie. None of it was.”
“You said yourself, you wanted me to fall in love so you could take it all away.”
“I did. And I thought Sara would be the perfect candidate. You seemed to like her, and she definitely liked you. But when I saw her coming out of your building, I was so jealous I couldn’t see straight.” I touched his arm. “Killian, you have to believe me. None of this was a lie, except for the lies I told myself.”
“I wouldn’t have done that to you.”
“I know that. Now, I know that. I just…I let my anger and my grief get in the way of the truth.”
He didn’t touch me; he didn’t acknowledge what I’d just said. But he let me dampen a cloth and clean the blood from his chest and his wounds. His shoulder was still bright red and puffy, still healing. And now this.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I tried to call it off.”
“What exactly did he say when you called it off?”
“That you were a popular guy because someone else had hired him at twice my price to continue on the contract when I changed my mind. He said this other guy knew that I would change my mind.”
“He said it was a man?”
I nodded. “He was pretty clear about it.”
“I’m going to have to call Ian and get the family involved in this.”
I nodded. “I’m sorry.”
He touched me, his hand just as gentle as ever on my face. “You were hurting.”
“I was stupid.”
“How did you know how to contact this guy?”
I shrugged. “I called Kevin. He said he got the guy’s number from Jack.”
“Kevin? How would he know how to get that sort of number?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t going to ask him, but we were talking, and he drew it out of me. I didn’t tell him it was you, of course, but I told him I thought I knew who’d killed Davis. And he volunteered to get the number.”
Killian’s expression tightened. “Pops’ not going to like that.”
“Then don’t tell him.”
He looked at me as if I was an idiot. “No secrets, Stacy. Once you start keeping them, things tend to fall apart. I won’t…” He stopped, his eyes sliding over my face. “But there is something you should know.”
“What?”
He took my arms and pushed me backward, back into the bedroom, setting me down on the bottom edge of the bed. He knelt in front of me so that I was looking dow
n at him instead of him looking down at me.
“This guy who keeps coming after me? I have reason to believe he’s the same guy who killed Davis.”
I shook my head. “That’s not possible. This guy is a pro.”
“There were witnesses to Davis’ murder. They helped create a composite sketch of the guy.”
“You’ve seen it?”
He nodded. “It looks almost exactly like the guy who attacked me.”
“Almost. But that’s not definitive.”
His eyes dropped to the floor for a second. “No, it’s not definitive. But what are the chances that there are two killers out there who look that much alike?”
He took my hands between his, but I pulled away. I stood and began to pace, moving between the bed and the loveseat tucked over in the corner.
“If that was true, it would mean that someone either was out to make me awfully miserable, or that Davis was someone other than the man he told me he was.”
“It would.”
“You think Davis was lying to me?”
“Pops checked him out, Stace. He didn’t even exist until three months before you met him.”
I shook my head. I couldn’t believe it.
“I know it seems impossible—”
“It doesn’t just seem impossible. It is.”
“People lie, Stacy. What’s important now is that we find out why he lied to you. What was he after?”
He came over to me and pulled me against his chest. I tried to resist for a moment, but then moved into him, comforted by his touch. We stood like that for a long time.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Me, too.”
He lifted my chin and kissed me gently. How could he kiss me like that after what he’d just learned that I’d done? Why was he so good to me?
How stupid could I have been to think I loved Davis when I had this waiting for me?
Chapter 22
Killian
She didn’t want to come with me, but I talked her into it. We needed to put our cards on the table so that we could get as much help as we could from the family. She seemed to understand that.
I had to admit to a little wariness. Ian would understand, but I wasn’t sure Pops would. And Jack? I didn’t like the fact that Pops insisted that Jack sit in on this meeting. I understood that it was his people who were affected by our ability to provide protection, but this was a family matter.
I reached over and took Stacy’s hand.
“Are you okay?”
“I should be asking you that.” She brushed her hand over the bandage that covered the lower half of my arm. “It kills me, knowing you’re hurt because of me.”
I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Don’t let it consume you, love. I can take care of myself.”
“I know, I just…”
“It’s okay. I’m okay.”
We kissed gently, lingering close to each other. I couldn’t blame her for what she’d done. If it’d been me, if someone had killed her, I would have done the same. I would have destroyed everyone and everything that stood in my way. She loved Davis. As much as that hurt me, I understood.
“We have to go inside.”
With a deep breath, she nodded. I got out of the car, walked around, took her hand, and pulled her out, holding her close against my side. Pops and Ian, Sean and Kyle, and Jack were all waiting for us in the living room of Pops’ house. It was the same house we’d all grown up in, the only house my brothers and Stacy knew. I had vague memories of the apartment my parents shared in Dorchester. I was seven or eight when we moved here. But it was home, and it seemed odd to have this conversation here. When Mom was alive, this never would have happened.
Ian smiled as we walked through the door. Sean glanced over at us from where he stood by the glass doors, isolated despite all the other people in the room. Sean always seemed sort of alone in a crowd these days. Pops was sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning forward, like a king surveying his kingdom. And Kyle was next to Ian, a similar smile on his boyish face.
Jack came forward, his hands extended.
“Stacy, it’s so wonderful to have you home again!” He took her hands and pulled her close, kissing her cheek warmly. “Marriage agrees with you.”
She smiled even as she shuffled her feet somewhat uncomfortably. “Thanks, Mr. McGuire.”
“Jack, you know you can call me Jack.”
She nodded, her eyes flashing to mine.
“I’d like to talk to you for a moment when this is over,” Jack told her. “A little gift, you might say.”
I touched her shoulder as Jack let her go. She immediately moved into my side, her confidence shaken by everything that had been happening. I kissed the top of her head and led the way to the loveseat.
Jack walked to the bar and poured himself a glass of water while the rest of us sort of stared each other down. I knew they all knew what was happening because I’d told Ian most of the story over the phone. His reaction had been mixed—incredulous and sympathetic. The look on Pops face suggested he was less sympathetic and more incredulous. And just plain mad.
“What were you thinking?” he suddenly demanded. “Why would you think that it would be okay to put a hit out on a member of the family?”
Stacy stiffened.
“Do you think this is all fun and games? That it would somehow be okay to do what you did?”
“Pops,” I said, slipping my arm around her waist, “she knows what she did.”
“Does she?”
He glared at her, his eyes narrowed the way he used to do when we were children and we did something bad enough that Mom told us to wait for Pops to get home. He would always stare at us that way and demand to know if we thought it was funny to make Mom so upset.
“I know what I did,” Stacy said, her voice low.
“Why would you hire a hitman? How did you even know how to do that?”
She stared at her hands. Everyone else just watched, aware that crossing Pops was never a good idea.
“You answer me, child,” Pops said.
She looked up. I felt a shiver run through her body. “I wanted to hurt you for what I thought you’d done to me.”
“Me?” Pops touched the center of his chest with one finger. “What did you think I’d done to you?”
“I thought you sent Killian to New York to kill Davis.”
Pops sat back, the color draining from his face. “You really think I’d be capable of such a thing?”
She shrugged. “You took Mom’s last month away from us. And you didn’t like Davis. What was I supposed to think?”
Pops surprised us all by falling to his knees between the couch and the loveseat. Stacy stiffened again, pressing back against me as she stared at him. Pops reached over and took her hands between both of his, tugging her hands so that she was forced to lean forward just a bit.
“I’m sorry,” he said so softly that I almost didn’t hear him. “I never meant to hurt you. If I’d known…”
There was pain in Pops’ voice.
Stacy just stared at him for a long moment. Tears began to run down her cheeks. She brushed them away and left the room. I started to get up and follow, but Jack grabbed my arm.
“Give her space, son. Let her figure things out for herself.”
Ian cleared his throat, moving forward.
“We need to find this guy. We need to know who paid him to keep going on Stacy’s contract.”
Jack pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. “This is his contact information.”
I took the paper. “How do you know who he is?”
Jack shrugged, clearly not in much of a mood to elaborate. Then he left the room, following my wife. I wanted to go after him, but Pops was on his feet by then and he took my arm.
“We need to deal with this.”
“We find him and make him tell us the truth,” Ian said.
“How do we do that?”
Kyle smiled. “We use you as ba
it, obviously.”
“Did you injure him this morning?” Sean asked.
“Broke his nose,” I said with a little more pride than I intended.
“We’ll check the local hospitals. He’ll need help resetting it.”
“What if he goes to a vet like I did?”
“We check vet offices, too. And clinics. Anyone who might be capable of helping him.”
Ian nodded. “You’re a natural at this.”
Sean turned away, that distant, moody look that had been the norm since Mom’s death back on his face.
“You find him, you take him to one of the warehouses,” Pops said. “We need to find out who this other person is.”
“Do you think it’s all connected?” I asked, realizing how stupid a question it was as I said it.
“I think that someone has a beef with the family and he’s doing all he can to get to us.” Pops glanced at Ian. “Have you been keeping up-to-date on everything?”
“Not everything.”
Pops crossed his arms and studied my face for a long second. “People are disappearing. People who were on the lists that Cassidy sent the kidnappers. People who work for Jack are getting caught by the police doing things they’ve done for years without problem. They’re getting shot down in the streets. Someone’s feeding information to the Italians. They show up places they have no business showing up, sometimes places only the people in this room are aware we’re going to be. The police are everywhere, suddenly watching warehouses and apartments they shouldn’t know about.” Pops shook his head. “Someone’s trying to take us down. I don’t know who, and I don’t know why, but we’ve got to start watching our backs a little closer.”
“And if this guy reveals who hired him—?”
“We could finally get an advantage in this game he’s playing with us.”
Chapter 23
Stacy
I couldn’t sit there and listen to his apology. How could he apologize to me like that? In front of all those people, he apologized to me. How could he do that? How could he even pretend that he was sorry for any of the things he’d done? How could he get on his knees like that, those tears in his eyes?
I was so angry, and I didn’t know why. I wanted to scream and I wanted to cry all at once. I stormed through the hallway that led to the back of house to where our playroom used to be. I needed to think. I needed a few minutes alone to figure out why my chest felt as though it was about to explode.
KILLIAN: A Mafia Romance (The Callahans Book 2) Page 12