The Villain

A shiver that felt awfully like Kaminski’s finger ran down my backbone.

Belle’s hold on me tightened. Aisling held her breath, and Sailor stared at me with open horror. I turned to my sister.

“It was the time I told you I got mugged. I didn’t want to ask Hunter, Sailor, or Aisling for the money. It wasn’t a small sum. It was a straight up fortune.”

“We wouldn’t have minded!” Aisling cried out.

“Don’t be stupid.” Sailor rolled her eyes. “Of course you could’ve asked us for it. You’re family.”

I shook my head. It didn’t matter that I almost did. All that mattered was that I hadn’t.

“When things went from bad to worse with the creditors, I went to Cillian’s office and asked for a loan. He said no. A few days later, he came back with the marriage proposal. He said all my problems would go away if I said yes, and…well, he kept his promise.”

I told them about our contract. About my hesitation, stemming from how much I’d always liked him. How my crush on him never fully wore off. How I convinced myself marriage would come first, but that he would grow into loving me back as time went by.

I took a shovel, dug into the ugly parts, and dumped them on the coffee table for my friends and sister to dissect and interpret. By the time I was done, there was only one more confession to make in order to feel completely liberated.

“Wanna know what the worst part is?” I grabbed the cheap bottle of wine—was it our fourth or fifth?—pouring a generous helping into my glass. “That I still love him. I’ve always loved him. The first time I saw him at that charity ball Sailor dragged us to because she didn’t want to be alone with Hunter and I set my sight on Cillian, I knew. I knew one day he would take my soul, set it on fire, and walk all over my ashes when it was all done and dealt with. I’d known it from the very moment I found myself staring at him while he was watching Emmabelle from across the room. He was lost in my sister, but I found myself—everything I’d ever wanted—in him.”

“Kill never looks directly at the things he wants.” Ash squeezed my hand. “He says desire is a weakness. If he wanted Belle, he wouldn’t have looked at her.”

“I don’t know what to do.” I dropped my head to me knees, sighing. “I told him I want a divorce after the Green Living lawsuit is over. I need to leave. Leave before he breaks whatever’s still left in me. Leave before he leaves me.”

The last sentence robbed me of my breath. There was a good chance Cillian was going to come to the conclusion I wasn’t worth the drama. Cut his losses and move on to the next wife on the list. Nothing went smoothly between us. I wasn’t pregnant yet. I was working for his enemy, still keeping in touch with my ex-husband’s grandmother…

It was not what he wanted, and Kill Fitzpatrick always got what he wanted.

Not to mention, I couldn’t live like this anymore, either. Straddling the line between real and fake.

Belle was the first to speak.

“My mind and my heart are at war right now. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m about to give you my heart’s advice. Remember at the cabin, all those months ago? When Cillian bet his ass in poker and left the money for Sailor and me to take? The only thing he asked was for us not to badmouth him to you. It was very telling, mostly because Kill’s name is being dragged through the mud on a daily basis in the news and he doesn’t seem to give a shit. I think he cares for you. I think he doesn’t want to care for you, but he does. He doesn’t want your loved ones to tell you not to be with him. I lost a bet, and I intend to respect it. I can’t tell you to leave him, Pers. Not now. Not yet.”

My gut twisted.

“Sam always says, a child who is not loved by his village will burn it down to feel its warmth,” Sailor said quietly. She took a seat on the edge of the coffee table, raking her fingers through her fire-red hair. “I think Cillian has been watching everything around him burn for far too long. The Fitzpatrick men are wounded, but they hide it very well, and from what I gather, very differently. If anyone can stop him from destroying the rest of the world, it’s you. Give him time,” Sailor whispered. “It’s the most precious gift of all.”

I turned to Aisling. She was the only person to remain quiet. She was also the only person who didn’t lose the bet with Kill.

“I think”—she bit her lower lip—“my brother wants you. I think he cares for you. But I also know he was the same man who blackmailed you into marrying him. He knew your life was in danger, and he took advantage of you. I don’t know if this is the kind of environment you want to raise your child in.” She rubbed at her forehead, struggling to let the words out. “I grew up in a dysfunctional family, and I don’t have it in me to recommend you go the same route. I don’t think you should stay.”

We were split down the middle now.

Stay or walk away?

My heart said one thing; my brain said another.

In the end, it was my body that won.

I fell asleep in the arms of my best friends.

My estranged husband did not contact me for two weeks.

I’d spent every single day with Tinder and Tree, ignoring Cillian right back. Just because I didn’t truly leave him, didn’t mean I was going to actively seek him out. Something had been broken the day I’d found out he had me followed—maybe even cheated on me—and I needed time.

I moved back to the apartment he’d set up for me. Just a little F-you to my husband, letting him know I intended to make use of all the plush amenities he’d offered me.

When Saturday rolled around, I showed up to my tutoring session with Tinder and Tree bearing gifts. I wasn’t Gerald Fitzpatrick. I couldn’t fault the two nuggets for their father’s sins, and I’d grown to love and care for them.

Especially Tinder, who needed every ounce of love he could get.

“Guess who is here, and with presents!” Joelle announced when she opened the door for me that morning. I marched in carrying bags of goods. Tinder and Tree descended the stairway, squealing in delight. Tree slid down the bannisters making pirate noises while Tinder bounced on his toes all the way down. They both tackle-hugged me. We fell on the floor in a heap of breathless giggles.

“Auntie Persy, look what I made for you.” Tinder shoved a drawing in my face. The title gave me pause. He thought of me as family, and I wasn’t family. I was, in fact, just the opposite. Still, I plucked the paper between his pudgy fingers, gasping and asking questions.