by Vi Carter
I nod. “Davy was there and your father.” I hate saying it, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget that moment when Liam blocked me from leaving. The memory of his coldness sends shivers racing down my spine.
Richard’s jaw clenches. “That’s right. Do you remember Leonard?”
I stop drinking as my throat closes. I nod again. “He’s dead?” I want him to be dead.
“Yes.” Richard doesn’t sound happy.
I’m confused.
Maybe he sees my confusion. I’m not exactly sure what prompts him, but he speaks.
“He’s dead. I just wish he wasn’t so I could kill him slowly.”
His words should terrify me, but they don’t. I should feel something for my brother, but all I can think about is how he dragged the knife down my arm, how he killed our parents, how most of my childhood memories are tainted by his cruelty.
My fingers touch the bandage that covers most of my arm.
“You lost so much blood.” Richard’s voice is strained. “I thought I was going to lose you.” Fear clouds his eyes.
“I’m still here.” My heart starts to dance in my chest. My brain is trying to process everything that has happened.
“Connor?” I already know he’s dead.
Richard’s eyes light up. “He’s alive.” A slow smile graces his handsome face.
Thank God.
“He’s at home making a full recovery. He misses you.” Richard’s words heat up my cheeks and my heart.
Home. He called it home.
Richard shifts closer, and when he takes my hand, I lie deeper into the pillows with a sense of contentment.
“I miss him too,” I say.
I can sense Richard’s gaze on my face, and I look at him.
He smiles. “It’s been three very long days.” He brings my hand up to his lips and presses a kiss on my fingers. His own hands are tattered and battered. I’m ready to ask what happened, but I remember him in the box, beating the wall.
“How did you end up in the box?” It’s ironic that I had once been captured in the box, and that’s where he ended up.
“They tricked me. Made it look like you were in the bed.”
The hairs rise along my body. “They dragged my arm along the walls leaving a path of blood.”
Richard’s eyes turn hard, and a coldness seeps into my veins.
“They won’t hurt you again.” His words are growled.
My heart starts to beat wildly in my chest.
Richard glances at the monitor and leans into me. He brushes the hair off my forehead. “I promise you. I will keep you safe.”
I reach up and stroke Richard’s face. Touching him is like a salve on my frazzled nerves.
“My brother is dead.” I come back full circle as I keep allowing that knowledge to sink in.
Richard’s jaw is clenched, but his face relaxes as the room door opens and a guy I have never seen before steps in with a coffee in each hand.
“You’re awake.” He smiles.
I glance at Richard. “This is my brother Jack. He stayed with you for a while.”
I try to give a smile to Jack. I don’t see the resemblance, but he’s extremely good looking, and I’m very aware of my appearance. I’m tempted to drag the blanket up higher, but I tighten my hands in my lap.
“Thank you for staying with me.”
His smile grows wider, and he hands the coffee to Richard. Some silent conversation passes between the brothers, and Richard smiles.
“How do you feel?” Jack asks. He doesn’t sit but stands at the foot of my bed. He has an air to him that would make you believe he is someone. Someone you should listen to. Richard possesses that air too.
“Like I’ve woken up from a dream,” I say honestly.
Jack nods his head and sips his coffee. “It will take time, but you’re in good hands.” Jack’s words are said with humor, and he gives Richard a quick glance.
I love the feel of Richard’s fingers as he twines them with mine. The intimate act feels strange in front of someone else, but I don’t pull away from his touch.
“You are coming home with me?” He asks.
I pretend to consider it, like I had any other option in the world. Jack’s gaze is heavy on us, and when I meet his eyes, they’ve hardened. My stomach twists for all the wrong reasons.
I refocus on the softness of Richard at this moment. “Yes.”
One word and it changes the atmosphere in the room. I push away the thought that maybe saying no isn’t an option.
“That’s good. We’ve been moving all your stuff into Richard’s,” Jack says.
“You were that certain I’d say yes?” I ask Richard.
“I was hopeful.” His deep voice and dark eyes have me quivering.
When he raises my hand to his lips, I feel the kiss searing all the way down to my soul.
I love you.
The words are there on my lips, but I don’t voice those words. The truth of what Richard means to me is deeper than love or lust. What we are is two damaged souls healing each other.
“I’d never say no to you,” I find myself saying instead.
His smile warms me all over again, and I know everything will be okay, that we won the war, that I have nothing more to fear, and that I can finally live my life.
***
Two more days I spend in the hospital before I’m discharged. Going home with Richard is exciting, but there is also that small amount of fear.
He hasn’t mentioned anything about his father, and I don’t ask. The moment he opens the door, Mario and Connor are there to greet me. Connor walks to me, his movements stiff, but he’s alive, just like me. I kneel down and take his face in my hands and rub mine against his.
“Good to see you, boy.”
Richard stands patiently, and when I’m ready to get up, he helps me.
“It is great to see you home.” Mario’s sweet words have me reaching out and gripping his hand. His eyes widen. The bandage on his head tells me he didn’t come out of this unscathed.
“Thank you.” Richard had told me that Mario called Jack, that’s how we got out of the basement. Otherwise, I am pretty sure I would have bled to death.
I release Mario, only to have Richard’s fingers intertwine with mine. “I want to show you something.”
Mario takes Connor into the kitchen, and Richard leads me down the hall. I’m ready to pull back when he stops at the basement door.
“Trust me.” He looks over his shoulder, and when he releases my hand and walks down the steps, I know he’s really giving me my freedom.
I do trust him. I follow him into the basement.
“It took a few days, but it’s all gone.”
I step up beside Richard. The space is clear, with no glass box, no dead bodies. No traces that my prison ever existed.
He doesn’t turn to me as we stand shoulder to shoulder. His fingers intertwined with mine. “I’m sorry I ever put you in the box.”
His fingers squeeze mine, and when I look up at the side of his face, I smile. He can’t see my face as he’s staring forward. The apology strains his jaw.
“I’m not, Richard.” He looks down at me. “Honestly, I’ve never felt so free.”
His lips are warm on mine, and I want so much of him, but he breaks the kiss, much to my disappointment. He keeps his face close to mine, our breaths mingling together.
“I’m not sorry I took you.” He grins.
My stomach squirms and I touch his handsome face. To think how much my life would change in one moment, one single terrifying moment, and it turned into such a defining moment.
It has been a long time since I felt like any place was home, but in Richard’s arms, I know I am finally home.
EPILOGUE
RICHARD
I like to leave the house only when she’s asleep. Otherwise, I find myself making excuses of why I should stay. Nothing has been easy since everything went down. Every corner of the house is covered by cameras
, and security guards have been doubled. I hate making Claire carry a panic button, but my father is still alive and kicking. The fear that knowledge caused has sparked fear in her eyes and made my stomach twist. I need to protect her.
The sad reality is that my father will always be a threat to us. I know myself or Jack won’t actually kill him, but we need to confront him. That’s where I am going today. To my parents’ home with the backing of Jack, to first call off the hit on Shay and also call a truce for now.
It may be a panel of four Kings, but we would be stupid fuckers to really believe that. The panel is one King, my father, and his three princes. That’s how I like to see the situation. It means one of us will become the King, and I personally think any of us are far more fitting than my father.
The gates to Jack’s house open, and I pull up outside his door; I don’t go in but blow the horn. Minutes pass before the door opens, and Jack steps out of the house. He’s wearing a dark suit, just like me. I’m proud of the man he has become, and I hope he’s proud of me, too. I’ve never yearned for anything so badly with how I yearn for this to work, for us to have more than a circle of men who control everything. I want us to be a legacy.
Jack gets into my car and glances back up at the window of his home.
“How is she?” I ask.
He buckles his belt. “She’s guilty over Dana. She blames herself.”
So she should feel guilty.
“It will all work out,” I say.
“Any word from Shay?” Jack asks once we hit the main road.
“No. The last time I spoke, he was pretty pissed, and I’ve heard nothing from Cillian.” That’s a serious concern. He could have contacted Shay, but Shay isn’t answering me. So our sister is missing.
“Mother has started to ask questions. I don’t think she believes Dana is off with friends,” Jack says.
I want to laugh. “That’s a first. She believed I was on holiday for three years. Dana’s only been gone a few days.” I can’t stop the bitterness that slips into my words.
“Dana and Mother talk every day, that’s why. She did question where you were, Richard. We all did.”
I didn’t want a fucking pity party. I turn to business. “So, how do we play this?”
“Like what we agreed. He has to call the hit off Shay as he’s the only one who Cillian will be in contact with.”
I nod. We had discussed this. I just hope when the hit is lifted off Shay’s head that he will return.
“If Shay doesn’t come back?” I say what I fear.
“He will. Shay wants what you want, Richard. He’s loyal almost to a fault. He’ll come back.”
I wish I had the same amount of faith in Shay as Jack does.
We are close to our parents’ estate. “Are you sure Mother is not here?” I ask.
“I told you already, she’s out. I made sure of it.” Jack sounds irritated.
I keep asking the same questions, but I don’t want to deal with my mother. I hate lying to her about Dana.
I’m about to ask Jack if he is sure that Father is here. That’s what I had him do this morning before we agreed to this meeting or ambush. It depends on how you look at it, to make sure Father was home and Mother was gone.
It’s like Jack reads my mind. “Father is there in case you were going to ask.”
“I wasn’t.”
We pull up at the house. I have to roll down my windows and show my face before the gates are opened. I know my father is alerted to our arrival. You can’t creep up on him. So fucking annoying.
I don’t pull up at the front door but park around the back. Old habits die hard. Getting out, I clock three security guards making a path towards us. I bend back down and look in at Jack, who’s checking his gun. I shake my head at him, and he stuffs the weapon in the glove compartment. I straighten as the first security guard reaches me.
“Hands in the air.” His gruff voice suits his face. He’s a face on him like a butcher’s dog.
I raise my hands and cooperate. He removes my gun and two knives. Jack is being patted down across from me. Once we are checked, they stand back.
“Go ahead, Mr. O’ Reagan is in his study waiting for you both.”
I meet Jack’s eye, asking him if he’s ready. A curt nod of his head, and he leads us into the kitchen. We walk down the hall and pass four more security men. My father has really upped the security here. I wonder fucking why.
I grin in hopes it’s because of me, that I am a threat to him.
Jack knocks, but I turn the handle and step into his office. My father isn’t alone. He rises from behind his desk, his face stoic. He’s polished like always, but I see the fucking glint in his eyes. He’s smiling at us.
“Come in.”
The second man turns and faces us from his chair.
“Meet Cillian O’Hara. Cillian, this is my oldest son, Jack.”
Cillian gets out of the chair and walks up to Jack, who looks at me like I know what the fuck is happening.
“This is Richard, my youngest son.” My father continues the introductions like we knew about this.
“What’s going on?” I ask my father as he returns to his desk. I take Cillian’s hand and size him up. He’s the same height as me, his build is not far off mine, but I’m not sure what would happen in a fight with him.
I still have no idea why Cillian is here. This is what would save Shay. The fucking person who is here. We had nothing to bargain with. I release his hand, but he doesn’t stand back. His green eyes are hard, and they dance across my face in what feels like a challenge.
“Where is Dana?” Jack asks, pulling Cillian’s gaze from me.
“Everyone sit down.” My father points to the three chairs in front of his desk. Cillian returns to his seat, and Jack sits down too.
“I think I’ll stand.”
“There is no need to be hostile.” My father says and waves me off. “Suit yourself.” He sits down like he hasn’t a care in the world.
“I was working with Cillian’s father, helping him to find his daughter who was trafficked.”
My father speaks to me, and sitting down seems like a good idea, but I remain standing. My father’s words are a case of deja vu. Everything is familiar, and the final conversation I had with Davy springs to mind. Before killing Davy, he had said my father was helping him track down his daughter. I didn’t care at that moment, but now I’m thinking I should have asked some questions.
“Eight days ago, we got word that Davy’s house was burnt to the ground, with him in it.”
“Davy’s your father?” I have to clarify what I’m hearing. Davy’s second name is Markey, so it made no sense.
Cillian turns toward me, but I catch the look of pure glee in my father’s eyes. When Cillian finds out in the next thirty seconds that I killed his father, what would stop him from killing me? All our weapons were removed. I’m starting to bet Cillian’s weapons weren’t taken from him.
“Yes, he's my father. We didn’t have a good relationship.” Cillian seems somewhat uncomfortable, but that same hardness is in his eyes. It’s a look that a lot of Mafia men carry. I think his weight is a little heavier.
“Cillian uses his mother’s maiden name, O’Hara, so I’m not surprised no one made the connection.” My father chimes in.
Jack hasn’t spoken. His shoulders are stiff. He knows I killed Davy. He knows what this means.
“The Russian’s who run the trafficking rings must have found out that Davy was looking for his daughter. He was getting too close to the truth, so they killed him. But I have promised Cillian that he will have his revenge, and I will help him find his sister, and in return, he has agreed to keep Dana safe.”
My father is a fucking snake. He’s looking at me, daring me to say anything. How easily this could all swing back to me. He was giving me an out right now, and I wasn’t stupid enough not to take it.
“Since Shay no longer wants to be a King, I have offered the position to Cillian.”
“Shay will return,” I state, getting everyone’s attention. We can’t let someone like Cillian on board with us. He is too tied up with the RA. This is getting messier by the second.
“Can I have a moment with my father?” I ask, staring at my father, who looks too fucking comfortable.
“There will be no secrets among the Kings. Say what you need, son, in front of everyone.”
I run my hand along my jaw, wanting to rip it off with the irritation that claws at me. He really screwed us all.
“No offense, Cillian,” I say first. “But isn’t he tied to the RA?” I direct the second part toward my father.
My father stands up from the desk. “I have always searched for a bridge to help bring the North and the East together. I had thought we had found that in Shay, but I was wrong. Cillian is that bridge now.”
I’m looking at Cillian. He isn’t afraid or intimated. He sits back, not with arrogance but self-worth. I don’t like it. I don’t like him.
He’s dangerous.
“I don’t take part in the RA anymore. But yes, Lucian is like a brother to me. I still work for them. I’m more of a freelancer nowadays.” His words carry more weight than he is telling.
Jack turns and meets my eye. Of course, Lucian is like a brother to Cillian, the man we had wanted to take down along with my father, and now my father had thrown everything out the window by bringing Cillian into the mix.
“I like to think of you as a lone ranger, but I hope that day has come to an end, Cillian. We can do great things,” my father says.
“So, where is Dana?” Jack asks, and right now, I don’t fucking care. All I see is a mess that I’m not sure I can clean up.
“She’s safe. Cillian is going to make sure no harm comes to her. I will speak to Dana soon when she calms down.”
“Let me talk to her.” I find myself saying. I had given the go-ahead to hand her over to Cillian. I should at least make sure she is okay.
“No. I think you and Jack have done enough damage.”
My father gets back up and takes out four glasses, along with a bottle of brandy. He pours out each glass and hands it to us. Jack and Cillian get up too and join us for a fucking toast.