Almost Innocent (17 page)

While she was an amazing dog and had never even snapped at Grady, she was a large boxer, and I wouldn’t put it past her to bite someone if she felt I was being threatened. I ran down behind her, screaming her name, hoping to get to her before she mauled the man I loved.

There were practically no lights on downstairs, and as I hit the bottom stair, I realized the only sound I could hear was Zahira. She wasn’t barking anymore though. No, the noise coming from her wasn’t even a growl. It was more of an intense warning. She was crouched, belly to the floor, and crawling back and forth in front of the front door, snarling. The hair on the back of my neck rose.

Something was very wrong.

Then I heard a car door slam in the driveway. Zahira’s ears pinned back as she listened, but she didn’t leave her post. I was frozen, unsure of what was happening. Headlights danced across my wall as a vehicle backed out of the drive, and without thinking, I rushed toward the window, trying to figure out who was there and what was going on.

A black car, one I’d never seen before, had stopped at the edge of my lawn, by my mailbox, and for what felt like forever, it sat there. As if the driver was watching the house. Looking for something.

Then it pulled onto the road and disappeared.

My breath was ragged as possibilities ran through my mind. It wasn’t Dec’s beat-up pickup, but was it someone who worked for him? Was it the car that had followed us last night? Or worse?

Maybe it was something completely innocent, like Jehovah’s Witnesses coming to preach, and I was overreacting. Maybe it was one of Declan’s men checking on me while he was gone. I stood where I was, staring at the road, waiting anxiously to see if they were coming back, until Zahira calmed down and stood up.

Once I was sure it was clear, I opened the door to double check the porch. As I did, a large manila envelope fell into the house. I snatched it and slammed the door then flipped the bolt.

The package was thick, obviously full of papers, but it was unaddressed. With shaking fingers, I broke the seal and lifted the flap. And my world stopped.

Someone had been watching me. Walking along the college campus. Sitting at my desk in my office. Lecturing my students. Running along the boulevard. Laughing at dinner with Grady. Sitting in the arena for one of his hockey games.

Picture after picture, I saw myself the way someone else did.

The last page was the worst. In plain, large block text, words taunted me. Fear gripped me, squeezing every ounce of breath from my lungs.

I WANT WHAT’S MINE.

This was from Mark. I knew it. He’d finally come.

I’d built a life here believing that as long as he was gone, we were safe. Fear was always in the back of my mind of course, the way a child worried about what was lurking in the dark. Even yesterday, when I realized that Declan knew where I lived, I’d been afraid that the evil bastard could find me. Now I had no doubt that he already had.

Declan had brought him here.

My mind whirled, searching for a way out. I could call Dec, tell him everything, and hope to God he was the man I needed him to be. But fear made me forget I was a rational and intelligent individual.

What if you can’t trust him? He was gone for a long time. He may not be the same.
That thought came out of nowhere, planting the seed of doubt. What if I couldn’t trust Declan? Could I honestly trust anyone at this point? Was I part of the family Dec told me the Callaghans would do anything to protect? What in the hell was I supposed to do?

The answer hit me like a ton of bricks. There was only one way out. There was only one person left I could trust.

I hurried into the kitchen and grabbed the landline phone I never used. This call was too important to put off, and I didn’t want to waste time searching for my cell.

“Litt’l One?” the deep voice answered on the second ring, just as he always did, no matter what time of day I called him.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. Each and every time I talked to Conall Callaghan, it made me miss Colin. The Irish “uncle” Dustin had once admitted he feared was the one person Colin had told me I could trust. While I’d kept in constant contact with Conall over the years, I had hoped I would never have to make this call.

“Conall?” My voice broke, and I barely kept the sob away. “I need—”

He didn’t let me finish. “I’m scheduling a flight right now,” the older man assured me. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. You and Grady are safe right now, yeah?”

Just like Colin, his distant cousin always seemed to know what I needed before I could say. And he always got right to the point. I knew that if I told him we weren’t safe, a car would be here to pick us up within ten minutes.

“I think so,” I squeaked, “but I don’t know for how long.”

“Moira? Fiona?” His Irish lilt usually made me smile, but tonight it only brought dread.

“I don’t know,” I admitted sadly.

A few hours ago, I would have sworn on a Bible that Declan was someone I could trust. That he would never let Mark get close to us. Now I felt like a fool.

Did I even know if this was Mark, or could it be one of Moira’s control tactics? If it was Mark, were Fi and Moira involved? Had they known how much power Declan had given that monster? I just didn’t know. I couldn’t tell if they were targets as well or if I was being played.

“Sit tight, Litt’l One. I’ll be there before you know it.”

After I hung up, I stared at the phone, half surprised I’d made the call and half worried that it was the wrong choice. Sliding my gaze around the room, I remembered again how much I loved this house and the life Grady and I had.

Everything paled in comparison to how much I loved my son though. These were just things. We could start over in a place where no one would find us. I’d been prepared to do it before.

But then, everything had changed. Dustin died, Dec went to prison, and Mark had disappeared. I’d been so sure that Grady and I were free. That we didn’t have to face my mistakes. I’d been wrong.

I
hadn’t been
to my mother’s new house, but Fi had given me the address right after I was released, hoping that I’d go make amends. I hadn’t needed her to give me the information though. Niall hadn’t just watched Gabby for me—he’d kept an eye on my entire family. I hadn’t worried about Moira—God knew she had enough protection of her own, not to mention that she was more than capable of taking care of herself—but it was nice to have some assurances in place.

After what had happened with Gabby and Dustin, I needed to know the people I loved were safe when I couldn’t be there.

Her new place wasn’t as large or as flashy as the home I’d grown up in. There wasn’t a gate at the end of the drive or a metal fence surrounding the property. The one-story wood-sided ranch, with attached garage, was abnormally low-key for Moira Callaghan’s tastes.

I couldn’t see a single light on, and as I got out of my truck and walked to the door, I found myself hoping she wasn’t home. I rang the bell, telling myself I’d give it thirty seconds before I turned around and booked it back to Gabby’s. Unfortunately, I didn’t even get ten.

The man who opened the door wasn’t overly large—he couldn’t rival me in size—yet he was serious. “Can I help you?” His baritone voice barked the question in a way that told he wanted me to say no and walk away.

I leaned backward slightly, taking him all in. His lower arms were coated with tattoos, some of which reminded me of mine. He’d obviously done time too. I could have laughed as his eyes scanned down my body and back up to my face. He scowled the entire time, challenging me.

It was a challenge I had to accept. “I’m here to see Moira.”

His eyes narrowed, but before he could turn me away, my mother appeared next to him. “Declan?”

The disbelief in her voice should have made me feel guilty for refusing to see her, or return her calls, before now. And if that didn’t, seeing how much she’d aged should have.

Neither did. That was what a piece-of-shit son I was.

“Moira.” I nodded, entering the small foyer when her bodyguard moved out of my way.

I could tell from the way she shifted that she wanted to hug me, but I didn’t move toward her. She was still the woman who manipulated everyone around her to get her own way. She was the woman who had loved one son so much that she’d overlooked everything he did. She was the woman I’d never been good enough for. And she was the woman who had almost cost me the love of my life. I stood where I was, watching her closely.

Her gaze moved slowly over me, from head to toe and back to my face. Her forehead wrinkled. “You look tired. Are you taking care of yourself?”

I almost snorted at the absurdity of that question. Glancing out of the corner of my eye at the bodyguard, I wondered if she was putting on the concerned mother act for him. Moira didn’t have a maternal gene in her body, and she’d never been one to coddle.

“You look old. You taking care of yourself?”

To my surprise, instead of being insulted, the corners of her mouth turned up and the old bat chuckled. Cackled really, but it was a laugh just the same. My eyebrows shot up before I could stop them, and I had all I could do not to gape. Who was this woman, and what in the hell had she done with my mother?

When her shoulders stopped shaking, she pointed toward the man behind me. “Tank, this is my son Declan.”

Tank? I shifted my attention back to him, realizing then that something was very wrong. My mother was always guarded, yes, but those men usually wore suits and had names like Kristof. Men like that were easy to control. Wildcards like this asshole? Not so much.

This guy was more thug than bodyguard, dressed in worn, faded jeans, a black T-shirt, and black work boots. A chain curved down one thigh and rings covered his fingers. There was no denying this guy had seen the inside of a cell, and probably not too long ago.

I nodded at him before turning back to her, feeling as though I’d missed something big. Niall had never said anything about my mother having an ex-con as her hired muscle. Fucker. I’d beat him bloody for leaving that out.

My mother, either sensing my confusion or just to fill the silence, pointed at me. “Declan, this is Tank.”

Tank took that moment to clear his throat and make his exit, explaining that he’d be in the garage if Moira needed him.

After he disappeared, I returned my attention to her. “Where are the rest of your goons?”

Moira leveled me with her eyes. “Did you come here to kill me, Declan?”

What the fuck? I stared at her, trying to figure out what in the hell her game was.

She smirked, raising a single brow. “I didn’t think so.” She headed straight for the bar across the room, and I followed. “My men were needed elsewhere. Jonathan didn’t want me alone and insisted on sending someone up from Boston to stay with me.”

Greenwood knew some sleazy people and quite a few truly dangerous ones. If he was calling in favors for my mom, something was wrong. But whatever it was, she didn’t want me to know.

Wasting no time once she reached her liquor cabinet, she flipped a tumbler right side up and poured two fingers then offered it to me before pouring her own. I took mine and wandered around the open-concept space. I stopped to stare at the pictures lining one wall, photographs I hadn’t seen in over a decade.

Everyone was up there, from Dustin, Fiona, and me to Gabby and Grady. Even my aunt and uncle were featured. Yet there wasn’t a single shot of my dad. I shouldn’t be surprised. There hadn’t been any of him in the old house either.

I knew why he was missing—I’d heard him explain it enough as a kid. Family was first. If something happened to him, if a business deal went south or if he never came home, Moira was to take us and disappear. He’d thought that we’d be safe, or that it would be easier for us to start over, if there was no evidence linking him to us.

Yet we had pictures of my uncle who looked almost just like my dad. Wasn’t that enough of a link to him? It didn’t make sense to me.

I’d never understood it as a kid, but my dad was paranoid and had more contingencies in place than the secret service had for the president. For every emergency, he had an out. He had back-up plans for back-up plans. Extraction plans to get mom and us kids out. He claimed it was what you did when you loved your family more than life itself.

I had found my “second” birth certificate when I was six—a forged document that would be used to give me a new identity if my family had to leave. It had been hidden in the back of the safe, with one for Fi, Dusty, and my mom. There wasn’t one for my dad. I’d cried, reading the name I didn’t recognize, seeing parents’ names I didn’t know, and thinking I’d been adopted.

God, life would have been much easier if I had been.

My parents had explained it all to me, of course. I saw the logic in it. The need to be able to leave our life behind and start again. But I didn’t understand why my father had never planned to go with us.

If I was ever blessed with a family, I’d take them and leave. Get the hell out of the business. Go somewhere warm, tropical maybe, and spend my life with them. That was what you did when you loved your family

“Why are you here, Declan?”

I turned toward her, forcing the memories away, and downed my Jamison in one gulp. “I don’t know.”

She pursed her lips, staring at the amber liquid in her glass as she swirled it before joining me at the wall of memories.

“You were always my good boy.” Her voice filled with pride as she pointed out a photo of me holding up my Pinewood Derby car. I barely recognized that boy. She moved a painted fingernail and tapped on a photo of my uncle Logan, Dustin, Mark, and me that I hadn’t seen in years. We were sitting at the table in our summer camp, our trout catch on the table behind us. “Sometimes I wonder when I lost you, when that good boy turned into an angry man.”

I chuckled angrily. “Come on, Moira. It can’t be that hard to figure out. I’m sure if you really thought about it, you can pinpoint the exact day.” I glanced at her, feigning surprise. “Oh, that’s right! You wouldn’t be able to do that because you were never around.”

Deep red painted lips, the same shade she’d always worn, twisted in amused annoyance as she raised an eyebrow in challenge. “You’d be surprised.”

“Let me guess,” I shot back before I could stop myself, “you’re going to say it was linked to Gabby. In your mind, she ruined me.”

Moira frowned slightly. “Gabby was Dustin’s ruin, not yours.”

“Of course she was,” I snapped. “’Cause Dusty couldn’t have possibly destroyed his own life.”

Moira inhaled sharply, forcing her shoulders back. “Your brother had problems long before he started dating Gabriella.” Dark eyes turned on me, invading my soul. “But if you must know, yes. Your change was linked to her.”

I didn’t want to hear a thing she had to say, but I had come here seeking answers. I glared, almost daring her to say something that would piss me off. “Fine, Moira. When did it happen? When did I change so dramatically?”

She didn’t blink at my attitude, didn’t let my agitation phase her. Her face did fall slightly, as though whatever thought crossed her mind was devastating to her, and I knew I wouldn’t like what she said.

“Fiona’s engagement dinner.” Her face scrunched in pain. “That’s when I lost both my boys.”

For once, I didn’t have a comeback. I didn’t have an argument because she was right. That was one of the most defining moments of my life.

As soon as I had walked out of school on the last day of my sophomore year, I made it a point to never be home. Dustin’s bruises may have healed, but his words were fresh wounds for me. Gabby was his girlfriend, and she may never love me, but that didn’t mean I didn’t love her. Whenever I was around him, it was all I could do to keep myself from punching the stupid smug expression off his face.

Uncle Logan had let me crash at his place even though Mark spent most of the summer at his mom’s. It was a sweet setup—Logan and Erin didn’t care what I did as long as I was home before they locked up. They also didn’t care if I was alone once I was tucked safely inside the house.

Bree spent most nights with me, helping me pass the time. My days were filled with whatever I could do to keep busy and keep myself from calling Gabby. That summer was the longest I’d gone without seeing her. It was hell.

I couldn’t avoid her forever though. In early August, my parents threw Fiona and her fiancé an engagement dinner. Ezra’s parents drove up from Philadelphia to meet our family, and my attendance was mandatory.

I stared at the pictures in front of me until they became a blur. Clenching my jaw, I tried to keep myself from remembering that night. Against my wishes, memories darted in.

The house smelled fantastic and looked even better, and I knew my mother had spent hours preparing for this night.

Fi, glowing in a tasteful black cocktail dress, beamed at me as soon as Bree and I walked through the door, then she rushed toward us and yanked me into a bear hug. “You made it!”

Her excited surprise hit me hard. “Of course,” I whispered into her ear. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” I needed to see the family she was marrying into, just to make sure they were everything she deserved.

Pulling back, Fi glanced at my date, doing her best to keep her face neutral. I hadn’t told anyone I was bringing Bree, but I didn’t think they’d care. Ah, who was I kidding? I just didn’t give two fucks if they cared. To make it through the next few hours, I needed Bree as a distraction.

After a quick greeting to the attractive brunette next to me, Fi shooed us into the dining room and introduced us to her soon-to-be in-laws. Before I could mumble a hello, the front door opened and I made the mistake of looking up.

Gabby was suddenly all I could see. It had only been a few weeks since I’d seen her, but it felt like years. Could she have gotten more beautiful in such a short time?

The simple cotton dress she wore was more modest than anything someone our age would normally wear, yet somehow it left very little to the imagination. She was tan, darker than I remembered her skin being, which made the blonde hair she had pinned back appear even lighter. The smile she sent me was enough to stop a man’s heart, even if it didn’t reach her eyes.

By some cruel twist of fate, or Dusty’s warped intentions, Bree and I sat directly across from him and Gabs. I didn’t remember most of dinner or the conversation the two sets of parents had, but I did know I barely pulled my eyes off her.

The deep dip that appeared in her collarbone when she moved her arms, the way she kept tucking an invisible strand of hair behind her ear, the way her eyes darted my way when she thought I wasn’t looking—all of it captivated me. Even Dustin’s scowl, or the way he blatantly laid his arm across the back of her chair as if claiming her, or the stink eye he sent me every now and then, wasn’t enough to get me to pull my eyes away.

I’d been suffocating, and Gabby was my air.

Ezra’s parents asked Dusty about college and pulled him into a conversation about what he wanted from his future. While they talked, Gabby stayed silent, her eyes locked with mine. For the first time, I had no idea what she was thinking.

Bree nudged me under the table.

I turned toward her, unsure of what she wanted, and found most of the adults staring at me. I forced a smile. “Sorry, what?”

Fi rolled her eyes before her future father-in-law asked if I’d started thinking about college yet. I answered with humor in my voice, telling him about the schools I had looked at and the major I hoped to pursue. Before I could finish, Ezra’s father braced his forearms on the table and stared at me.

“Those are some huge aspirations, son.” He looked at me as though he doubted I would ever live up to them.

I didn’t blame him for his skepticism. I’d barely said two words all night, staring at the girl across from me as if I was high, and my big brother had just bragged about getting a B-minus in community college level intro to biology.