Chapter 23

I continued to grip Killian’s shoulders, rocking my hips as we both finished. Our bodies shuddered, our eyes locked, and the heat between us surged. Beads of perspiration formed between my breasts. We’d spent the last few hours in a tangled mess of limbs. And I wasn’t sure either of us was ready for it to end.

As our lips met in a deep sensual kiss, he lifted us from the cushioned chair we’d used and lowered us onto the bed. “I’m going to pull out. Okay?” he rasped.

“Okay.”

Although he’d given it time, we groaned as he separated us. He’d taken the day off from training just to be with me. We’d gone up to Allentown for the afternoon to see Lety and Brody, and returned for a nice dinner out alone. Our time today was an effort to make up for the hours apart he’d spent training. Twenty days. That was all he had left before his championship match in Vegas.

Killian kissed the tip of my nose. “What are you thinking about?” He laughed when I didn’t answer. “I’m going to be okay. You worry too much.”

“It’s hard for me to see you hurt.”

“I know,” he said quietly.

“Will this be the last…for sure?”

“Yeah. I’m ready.”

I lowered my gaze. “Even if you lose?”

“You think I’ll lose?”

I shook my head. “It’s not that I don’t believe in you. I just know, in that Octagon, anything can happen. One wrong move’s enough to change things up.”

“Yeah. You’re right. For as much as I’m training, anything’s possible.”

“So if it happens—I mean, if you don’t manage to win. Will you still retire?”

“You want me to, don’t you?”

“I’ll never make you do anything you don’t want to do, Killian. But I won’t lie to you. I don’t want you to keep fighting.” I bit my lower lip. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I do.” He stroked back my hair, thinking things through. “It will be harder to walk away if I lose—I’d rather go out on top. But I know this isn’t my future. A lot of veteran fighters aren’t doing too hot. Their brains are busted, and their bodies are hurtin’ all the time. I don’t want that for me. I still have a lot of life left.” He smiled. “I want to enjoy it.”

I returned his grin. “I want you to enjoy it, too.”

He pulled me to him for another long kiss. The April rain pattered gently against the roof. But it was the flashing red and blue lights against our walls that had us sitting up.

Killian swore and rushed to his feet, yanking on a pair of sweats. He pulled back the curtain. “It’s Curran. He’s got Finn.”

I already had on my panties and was hooking my bra. “He’s in trouble?”

He kissed my head. “If Curran’s got him, he for sure is.”

He rushed out as I pulled on a tight long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants. I shoved my feet into an old pair of canvas sneakers when I heard Curran’s angry voice, worried I’d have to run outside.

“I’m sick of this shit!” Curran yelled. “It’s time you grew the fuck up.”

“Fuck you, Curran!” Finn shot back.

I raced out of the room in time to see Killian shove his way between his brothers. He pushed Finn back. It wasn’t hard, but Finn was clearly wasted and it threw him off balance. He fell back and crashed against the steps.

Curran motioned at him. “Christ, do you see him? He’s a goddamn mess.”

“You don’t know what I am. And you don’t know shit about what I’ve been through.” Finn’s voice cracked; he was seconds from losing it.

I lowered myself beside him and rubbed his shoulder, trying to draw his attention away from Curran. Finn’s gray T-shirt was torn and his eye was swollen and bruised. He’d been in another fight, and I could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Shhh,” I cooed. “You’ve had a rough night. Let’s go upstairs, okay?”

Finn looked at me when my hand trailed behind his back. He nodded, but stumbled when he tried to stand. I held out my hand when his brothers moved forward. “It’s okay, I’ve got him.”

I led him upstairs, but Curran continued to yell. “This shit can’t continue.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Killian said.

“You’ve talked to him before,” Curran snapped. “It’s not enough. He’s screwed in the head, Kill.” He swore. “I’m new to the force, and I’m sticking my neck out for him. You know what would’ve happened to him if I hadn’t shown—or if the other cops there hadn’t had my back?”

They continued to argue as Finn and I stepped into the guest room. His visits were becoming so frequent, Killian had ended up buying him a bed. Although he lived with Wren, when he was this upset, Finn would only talk to Killian. Now that I knew what had happened to Finn, I understood why.

I pressed my palms against his chest, encouraging him to sit on the bed. “I’m going to take off your shirt, okay?”

His head swiveled back and forth slowly. “I don’t want to piss Kill off,” he said.

“It’s okay, Finn. He’ll understand.”

He lifted his arms, allowing me to remove his shirt, swaying a little when I finished pulling it over his head. I tossed it on the floor and helped him out of his socks and sneakers, then pushed against his shoulders until he lay back. His feet weren’t fully on the bed, so I lifted them and covered him with a sheet.

I placed an empty garbage can near the head of the bed. “In case you feel sick, use the wastebasket, okay? I’ll be right back.”

“You’re going to take care of me?” he slurred.

“Of course I will, Finn.”

I hurried into the guest bathroom and moistened a few washcloths under warm water. I then wrung them out and wrapped them up between two dry ones before rushing back to Finn’s side. He lay on his back, blinking at the ceiling. Based on his pallor, he seemed seconds from either passing out or hurling.

He grimaced as I washed off his bruised and blood-smeared face. “Who’d you fight with?” I asked.

“Three guys. I kicked their asses.”

I crinkled my nose. “It shows.”

He laughed. “I kicked their asses,” he said again, leaving his mouth open while I continued to pass the moist cloth against his skin.

“Three’s a lot,” I told him. “Even for someone as tough as you.”

“I had to. They were bothering your cousin Sal.”

I stopped with the cloth just below his swollen eye. “You mean Sol—she was there?” I reached for the land line next to the bed. I needed to make sure she was okay.

As out of it as Finn appeared, he seemed to know what I was trying to do and clasped my elbow. “It’s okay. I took care of it. Took care of her.”

My eyes scanned his face and the rest of his slumped form. I wasn’t so sure Finn could take care of anything in his state. “Where is she, Finn?”

“She went home with a friend of hers. I tried to kiss her good night.” He grinned. “She told me that I was cute and to call her…said she’d kiss me when I was sober.” His brows knitted. “You have her number, right?”

“Ah, yeah.” I was still trying to process what he said. “You tried to kiss Sol?”

His grin widened. “She’s pretty—nice. I like her pink hair.” He grimaced when I wiped his jaw. That was bruised, too. “I couldn’t let those assholes treat her that way.”

I frowned. “Who was bothering her?”

“Some dicks she went to school with. They were saying shit about her mom. They called her mom crazy—told Sol she was going to end up the same way. She tried to be all tough and stand up to them—even kicked one of the guys in the balls. It was a good kick, too. But I can tell…what they said…hurt…her…”

I thought he’d passed out. In his silence, I heard Curran’s sharp tone echo in the foyer. “It messed him up—what was done to him. He needs professional help.”

“Maybe,” Killian said. “But he’s not ready to take it.”

“Kill, he’s getting worse.”

“I’ll take care of him,” Killian said quietly.

“Kill’s going to take care of me,” Finn mumbled. “But he can’t. Can’t change the past. Can’t change what happened.”

Knowing why Finn hurt like he did made his actions more heartbreaking. I’ve been there, I wanted to say. We love you…. Please stop risking your life. But he wasn’t aware that I’d learned of his past, and the alcohol was probably making him babble. So instead I stroked his ginger curls and spoke softly. “Killian wants to help you any way he can, Finn. But ultimately, it’s up to you.”

“He couldn’t help me before—couldn’t stop it.” His expression shattered. “Just like he couldn’t stop what happened to you…even after he promised your brother.”

My hand froze over his soft hair. I tried to tell myself that he was wasted—that he didn’t know what he was talking about. But there was something behind what he said. Something that caused a chill to barrel down my spine. “What did you say?”

Finn sniffed. He seemed so young then. More like a little kid than the man he was trying to become. “When Teo left for the Army, Kill promised to look out for you…keep you safe…But he didn’t keep his word,” he muttered. “Couldn’t keep his word…he left with that girl…that girl who wasn’t you…”

Reality seemed to drift away as I struggled to make sense of what he’d said. I didn’t realize how fast I was breathing until I tried to speak. “Finn?” I shook his shoulder. “Finn, what did Killian promise Mateo?”

He opened his mouth but didn’t talk. “Finn,” I pleaded just above a whisper. “Finn, please answer me.”

He kept his eyes closed, but managed to respond, his words slurred. “He promised he’d walk you home from school. Every day. He told him that nothing would happen to you. Swore to watch over you…but he didn’t walk you home that day…the day that guy hurt you…he went with that girl…the girl who was with all the boys…”

Finn’s last words were barely audible. I watched him for several long seconds, waiting for more, but when his deep breaths turned into snores, I rose. My body trembled as the impact of his confession seeped in and threatened to eat me alive.

My knees buckled as I headed down the steps. I had to grip the banister to keep from falling over. Through my burning eyes I watched Killian shut the front door. He leaned against it with his forearm and sighed, turning as I reached the bottom level.

He lunged at me when he caught sight of my face, clasping my shoulders. “What is it? Is it Finnie?” He tore up the steps when I didn’t answer.

I waited downstairs. It didn’t take him long to return once he saw that Finn was okay. But he knew, he knew something was wrong. He took the steps slowly, pausing in the middle of the staircase when I glanced up, my cheeks already soaked from my tears. “You promised Mateo you’d watch over me?”

Killian’s jaw slackened and the color drained from his face. Oh, Jesus. No…

My head lowered. This couldn’t be happening. But it was. I watched my tears splatter against the wood floor and Killian’s feet stop directly in front of me.

I waited for him to tell me that Finn was just drunk. That he’d never promised Teo anything. That he hadn’t gone back on his word to be with someone else. Instead, “Sofia” was all he’d say.

I raised my chin. “All this time…all these years, you’ve kept this from me.” I could barely swallow. “How could you not tell me?” I motioned around when he wouldn’t answer me. “What has all this been, Killian—guilt?”

He tightened his jaw, remaining silent and barely moving except for the rise and fall of his chest.

Fury found its way into my voice. “Is that it? You couldn’t keep me safe then—so you owe it to yourself to keep me safe now?”

His head snapped up. “That wasn’t supposed to happen to you. I wasn’t supposed to let anything happen to you.” His breaths turned ragged. “Had I been a real man and kept my word I could have spared you from everything.”

I struggled to hold back my sobs. He hadn’t saved Finn by stepping up and telling Father Flanagan about Norman. So now he cared for him when he hurt—watched over him when his pain became too much. Was that the reason I was here, too? The only reason?

My hands balled into fists when I lowered them to my sides and met his face. “Tell me I’m not here to appease your guilt. Tell me I mean more to you than that.” By now I was screaming. “Tell me I’m something more than a chance at redemption!”

A single tear streaked down his cheek, his rough voice lowering. “I live in shame because of what happened to you. Not a fucking day has gone by that I haven’t felt regret. I’d give my life—I’d give my soul—to go back and change what happened that day.”

But he couldn’t.

No one could.

It was done and there was no going back.

My focus lowered to stare at his chest. “You pity me, don’t you?”

Everything quieted. In the silence that stretched between us, Killian answered by not answering.

I stumbled forward, toward the end table where I’d left my purse and where we kept our keys. My purse slapped against my thigh as I lifted it by the strap. My keys; those I clenched tight within my grip.

Killian’s grasp on my elbow snapped me out of my numbness. I wrenched away from him, my voice cracking. “You were supposed to be different,” I sobbed at him. “I was supposed to mean more to you than this!”

I flung open the door, the cold rain slapping against my face as I stormed out to my car. As I peeled out of the driveway and accelerated ahead, I caught Killian racing out of the house. But I couldn’t stop.

I meant what I said. Killian was supposed to be different. Instead, he was just like the rest.