Almost Innocent (16 page)

I was the man who always had a plan, a backup mapped out, an answer for every problem that might come up. I was the one who had the answers. I didn’t call my sister and beg for advice because I didn’t fucking need it. Until now. “What do I do, Fi?”

“Other than firing the douchebag and never mentioning him again?”

And there it was. Mark getting blamed for something that hadn’t been entirely his fault.

“I’m not firing him.” I turned again, making sure Gabby was still asleep. She didn’t need to wake up and hear me talking about him.

“Of course you’re not,” Fiona snapped, her impatience and anger clear. “And why would you? He’s only the man who continues to terrorize your family fifteen fucking years after he started.”

“Fi, Mark is our family.”

“No,” she snapped. “I don’t want to fucking hear a word you’re going to say about that monster. You’ve never been able to see him for what he really is. He isn’t family, Declan, because family doesn’t tear your loved ones away from you. Family doesn’t try to destroy you.”

I forced out a quiet laugh. “Because no one else in this family does shit like that, huh?”

“You wanna help Gabby? Get her to sleep, then you go see Mom.”

“Why in the hell would I do that?”

“Because you were gone for too long, little brother. It’s time you stopped seeing things through your rose-colored glasses and started living in the real world again.”

I ignored her tone, focusing instead on the woman behind me. “I can’t leave Gabby.”

Fi chortled disgustedly. “You already did. More than once, if you think about it. The damage is already done. She’s already broken.”

I grit my teeth so hard that my jaw ached. Fucking Fiona.

“All you can do now is try to find all the pieces so you can put them back together again.”

M
y dreams were
a jumble of bright flashes and blurry images, leaving me more exhausted than I had been before I’d fallen asleep. I stretched and yawned before forcing my eyes open. The corner lamp was on, the one I used solely for reading, and it bathed the bedroom in the soft yellow glow I had wrongly assumed was the morning sun coming through the window.

It took a moment, but the events from the day oozed back into my mind, painfully reminding me of why I was tucked in bed and not downstairs, watching a movie with Declan.

In the midst of my breakdown, he’d brought me up here. He’d held me, cried with me, and tried to make everything better. Just like always, Dec took care of me.

Humiliation fought to climb to the surface, ready to shame me for my behavior. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and forced myself to remember that I had no reason to be embarrassed. I was not being overly dramatic or putting on a show—I couldn’t control my reaction.

I knew that, of course. I also knew it could have been so much worse. I could have woken up wishing I was dead because that would put an end to the memories. God knew I’d felt that way before.

I wondered if Dec was still in the house or if he’d realized how insane I was and tucked tail and run. I wouldn’t blame him if he had. I’d never been a bystander to a full-blown PTSD flashback, but I’d studied them enough to know they were scarier for the helpless people on the sidelines than the person actually experiencing it. And as someone who had gone through one, I knew they were pretty fucking terrifying. I couldn’t imagine having to sit and watch helplessly as someone I cared about relived a horrid time from their past.

I half hoped Declan had left, that he was gone for good. It would be easier. The pain of him leaving me again was probably less painful than what was about to happen.

Because if he hadn’t disappeared, we had to talk about something I had never wanted to discuss. It was a conversation that wouldn’t be easy for either of us. A topic I was positive he would not handle well and a confrontation that I would probably never recover from.

Years ago, I’d somehow convinced myself that Mark was never coming back, that his fear of Declan’s retribution would keep him away. I’d been wrong. Not only was Mark not hiding from Dec, he was fucking working for him. And in Declan’s own words, Mark had been his right-hand man for years.

Everyone had hated Mark after Dustin died. They’d blamed him. I’d just assumed Dec felt the same way.

Declan had been angry with Mark. Not because he felt Dustin’s death was Mark’s fault, but because Mark hadn’t stopped Dusty from hurting me that day. It had been a dark time in my life, with so many things happening at once, and my memories meshed together in a way that made it hard to keep the timeline straight. Yet I would never forget how Dec had screamed at his cousin, telling him they were done and ordering Mark to get out of his face.

When Mark disappeared, I was so sure that it was for good. I never imagined that Dec would forgive him. Or use him to help run the business. It was a complete shock.

I’d underestimated Declan’s loyalty. Not his loyalty toward me, because I would never doubt that. I had overlooked the blinding love he had for his cousin.

As much as I’d depended on Declan after that day, I’d never told him the truth. I could tell myself that it was because I couldn’t bear the idea of causing him any more pain than I already had. Because of me, he’d lost his brother long before Dustin died, and if I had been honest about what had really happened after he left for college, Declan would have lost the memory of his best friend too.

I’d wanted to protect him. He’d already lost his brother, in more ways than one. He hated Dustin so much that he couldn’t even mourn the loss of his flesh and blood. The only solace I had was that Dec hadn’t been the one to pull the trigger. But I couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t hunt Mark down.

I could also blame the fact that I’d struggled with uncertainty for years, terrified Declan would choose his brother over me if it came down to it. Completely gullible, I’d listened to Dustin’s taunts and believed that Dec could never love someone like me. His love for Dusty was nothing compared to his love of Mark though, and in the back of my mind, I thought that he might think I was lying, or side with Mark. Either would have destroyed me.

While there were many underlying reasons I had never told Declan what had really happened, the biggest reason was that if I admitted it to him, it was real. If I said it out loud, if someone found out, then it had really happened and I couldn’t live in my little bubble of make believe anymore.

I’d never told anyone the complete truth. My therapist had heard what little I needed to get off my chest, Fi had figured out bits and pieces of it, and Colin had guessed, but I’d never actually said the words or told anyone what had happened in the months leading up to Dustin’s death. I could have, but to what end? There was so much pain in our pasts, so many bad memories, and I already had too much blood on my hands. I didn’t want more.

Now I could see what a colossal mistake that had been. Maybe the truth didn’t set us free, but neither did avoiding it. I needed to face the truth and trust that those who loved me would still be there in the end.

I sighed and turned to slide out of bed, my eye catching the framed snapshot of Colin and Grady on my nightstand. It was one of the only pictures I had of Colin. He didn’t allow them, said that his refusal was to protect his family “in case.” He never did tell me what “in case,” meant, but I knew it had something to do with his business.

His outlook changed after Grady was born though. Maybe it was the cancer eating him alive from the inside. Or maybe it was because he was just tired of hiding and wanted his grandson to have something tangible of him. Whatever the reason, once my son was born, Colin let me take his picture.

God, I missed that man. I loved the memories I had of my dad. I’d always wonder what my life would have been like if he hadn’t died so young. Yet there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t miss Colin or wish he was still here. He’d know how to talk to Declan and how to help me get it all out.

As I stared at that picture, willing the tears to stay at bay, I was transported back to that day. The last one we had together.

“I can’t be here anymore, Little One,” he told me as he fought a cough that racked his frail body. “I need to know that you and Grady will be okay. Promise me, if you need anything…”

I clutched his hand tightly, glanced quickly at the baby sleeping in the bassinet a few feet away, and forced a smile onto my lips as I looked back at the man I’d grown to love. “We’ll be okay. Don’t you waste energy worrying about us.”

I knew what he was going to say because he’d been telling me for months. Like the planner he was, he had ensured his uncle would watch out for Grady, Fi, and me. If anything went wrong before Declan got out of prison, I was to call Conall immediately. It was Colin’s way of ensuring that his family would be protected long after he was gone.

He lifted a thin hand and slid a bony finger down my nose. I didn’t know if the gesture was meant to comfort him or me, but tears stung my eyes. He nodded once, settling back onto his mountain of pillows, and gripped my hand with both of his.

“I know you will.” He swallowed roughly. “I want you to know that one of my biggest mistakes is not seeing what was happening. I’ll go to my grave regretting not looking harder. Not stopping my son from—”

“No,” I snapped, shaking my head wildly. “Don’t you dare! I didn’t want anyone to know. I hid what was happening as much as Dusty did. It’s my fault, not yours.”

“Do not ever say those words again,” he hissed. “What happened was not your fault.”

I’d never forget the look of pure horror on Colin’s face when he walked into the hospital room that night. One look at me and his entire body deflated, yet his eyes burned with the need to resurrect the dead just to kill him again.

“You could not have helped me.” I stared hard into his eyes as I spoke.

Colin Callaghan was not a man that most people looked in the eye. Half the time I avoided it simply because I felt as if he could see straight into my soul and read my darkest fears. But I needed him to pay attention to the words I was saying—to really hear me.

“I didn’t know how to ask for help. For a long time, it was a slap here, a punch there, and I really thought that one day he’d realize what he was doing and stop. I thought that once his life got less stressful, once Declan had moved away, he’d stop. Then…” I bit my lip, my thoughts drifting to Mark. “Then things changed, and Dustin…” I couldn’t find the words to explain that Dustin had suddenly turned into a monster I’d never expected him to be. “I didn’t want you to know. So I did what I could to hide it. That’s on me.”

“You’re so strong, Little One. Always have been. My grandson is lucky to have you.” His eyes moved to the baby before moving back to me. “I see so much of your dad in you.”

The words made me sit a little taller and meet his bright blues straight on again. “Really?”

The corners of his lips turned up slightly. “Yes, really. I know we don’t ever talk about him, but he was my first friend, the best friend I’ve ever had. He called me the day he found out that he was having a little girl, scared out of his mind. Said he didn’t know the first thing about being a da.” Colin smiled, glancing over my shoulder into a time and place I couldn’t see.

“I promised him that day”—his hand tightened over mine once more—“that I would be the best godfather I could be. That I would do whatever I could to help him raise you. I knew how great being a father was, and I knew that it would change his life. He loved you more than anything.” His eyes moved back to mine. “He’d be so proud of the woman you’ve become.”

“I doubt that,” I mumbled, dropping my gaze to the bed. “I’m a worthless mess now. Nothing much to be proud of.”

“Gabriella!”

Colin barely raised his voice. He didn’t have to, because his presence, even in his current state of decay, was large enough to speak volumes. When he spoke, you stopped what you were doing and listened. Now was no different. I snapped my eyes back to his face.

“Don’t!” he sneered. “Don’t you ever think you are less than you are. When I look at you, Little One, all I see is strength.”

A tear escaped down my cheek and dropped onto our combined hands. I bit my lip to hold in the sob. “There’s nothing strong about me anymore, Colin. Maybe there used to be, but…” I shrugged, not knowing how to explain how lost I truly was. “I’m broken.”

“If that were the case, you’d have told the truth.”

I assumed he meant about Dustin’s death. “I let him go to jail for me. That’s not strength. That’s being a coward.”

“That’s not the truth I meant.” He cleared his throat. “A great man once told me that I would never know true strength until I became a parent. He was right. He also told me that loving a child who isn’t yours as much as you love the child who is is the hardest thing a parent could ever do.”

He looked toward Grady again. “I disagree. I think the hardest thing a parent will ever do is love a baby they didn’t want, a baby that was created not from love but from hatred, control, and pain. To look at that baby every day and not see the face of the man who hurt you, but instead see an innocent child who didn’t do anything wrong?

“I’ve watched you with him, Little One. You love him as much as you would if he were Declan’s. You don’t see anyone but Grady when you pick him up. That is the true sign of an amazing mother. And that is the epitome of strength.

“If you were weak, you would never have made it through what you did. And you would hate that baby. You would blame him. You would have let that piece of shit control you, and we wouldn’t be where we are today. Or you would have told the truth long ago, and Grady would have paid the price.”

Silence descended over us as I let his words sink in. I didn’t know what to say because I completely disagreed. I was a mess, yet I also knew that I would do whatever it took to be the mom Grady needed. A woman who Declan didn’t hate.

“I miss Dec,” I mumbled, changing the subject.

“Some day, Declan is going to come to claim his family.” Colin watched me thoughtfully. “You don’t have to tell anyone what happened. You can go on pretending it never did. But Declan should know the truth. You need to tell him before someone else does. Until you do, it’ll be a weight hanging over your head. I don’t want that fucker to have any control over my family. As long as Declan is in the dark, he will.”

I would have argued, explained that I knew Declan was never coming back for me, that Grady and I weren’t Dec’s responsibility. Even if, by some miracle, Declan did come home, I could never tell him. Yet I didn’t want to waste what little time we had left or break a dying man’s heart, so I stayed silent.

As if he could read my mind, Colin continued. “I guarantee it won’t change how my son feels. He will love you just as much as I love you. He will love Grady just as much as I love my grandson. You’ve been hurt enough, Little One. Trust Declan. He won’t let you down.”

Zahira’s growl jerked me back to the present. She’d picked her head up and was sniffing the air as if she was trying to figure out what was wrong. Then her ears pinned back, and she gave another low bark.

She probably smelled Declan. I didn’t think she’d given him any trouble earlier, but now that I was stressed, I was making her anxious. Poor thing.

“It’s okay, girl. It’s okay.”

Colin, as usual, had been right. Ten years ago I might not have seen it, but it was obvious now. I’d never wanted to tell Dec because it would turn his world upside down. This truth would break him. He would hate himself and maybe me. But he needed to know.

I pushed off the bed and forced myself out of my room. Zahira, taking it as a sign that it was time to investigate, jumped up and surged down the stairs in a fit of energy, barking all the way.
Shit!