Fearless (Broken Love Book 5) (23 page)

“I’m sorry.”

It was the first apology of the night. It seemed like I would be adopting them a lot before the night finally ended.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. “I guess I’ll never know for myself because she’s gone again.”

I considered my next words carefully. “I know you’re curious about your mother, but she’ll hurt you, Di, and I can promise it will hurt much worse than when you didn’t know her.”

“I already told you,” she laughed dryly. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Can you go please?” I sat there for another minute, but she wouldn’t meet my gaze. She appeared lost as she fixated on a spot on the wall. I reluctantly left the room and crossed the hall to enter my own. The room was completely dark as I shed my shirt and searched out Lake through the darkness. She sat against the headboard with her knees to her chest.

“Hey,” she greeted softly,

“You waited.” I flicked on the lamp by the bed and her eyes immediately found my bare chest and traveled down to where I was unbuckling my belt. I heard her suck in a breath and hid the grin that pulled at my lips. I needed to remain serious for this.

“You told me to.”

“I did, but I think you and I both know following directions is no longer something you can do.”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” she whispered, and I saw what she refused to show down the street with the police. I didn’t want to scare her, and the slight shiver that wracked her body told me I did exactly that.

“Then what do you want?”

“What do you mean?”

“You keep running away from me every time we have a problem. I’m not… going… to hurt you,” I gritted.

“Maybe not.” She looked away, and I didn’t like that shit. “But I’m starting to think we can’t trust each other.”

My heart skipped a beat and then began a pounding rhythm that created an ache in my chest.

“You don’t trust me?”

“I—” She started to answer, but then her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know.”

I couldn’t rely on my legs to hold me up anymore, so I shed my jeans and positioned myself against the headboard beside her. “You’ve been lying to me for almost a year.”

“You lied to me for five,” she defended before I could finish.

“My point is, I still trust you more than anyone.”

She replied, “I don’t know what I feel, Keiran. I’m pissed at you for manipulating me and causing my best friend to leave, but I can’t deny this last month has been hell. I don’t think I can be without you.”

“I know I couldn’t let you. You may see it as controlling and maybe it is, but it’s what you do to me.” She shook her head and turned her body to face me, giving me a full view of how serious she was about her next words.

“You make me feel things I’m not always proud of either, but it doesn’t excuse the decisions we make. I don’t want you to ever manipulate my life like that. We have to do what’s right for each other.
Together
,” she added. 

“As you wish,” I answered and grinned when she flinched with surprise.

“You’ve been watching Princess Bride,” she accused.

“I’ve been living with a four-year-old for the last month so I could be close to you. Kennedy convinced me to do a lot of things I’m not proud of.”

“You know she practically owns your ass, right?”

I snorted. “Keenan’s got it worse. He let her put Sheldon’s lip gloss on him.”

“No way!” She doubled over and clenched her stomach as she laughed. “She has totally turned you into pussies!”

My eyes narrowed which she caught just as I lunged. I flipped her over and flattened her on the mattress before bringing my fingers to her ribs and tickling her.

“Wait,” she gasped and screamed.

“I couldn’t quite hear you before. I’m a what?”

“A pussy,” she blurted and wiggled to get away.

“I see you think you’re too tough. I’ll have to show no mercy.”

“No mercy! No mercy!” she mocked and screeched.

“As you wish.” Her t-shirt had risen to reveal her lace panties. My mouth salivated when I lowered my face and kissed her through the material. Her breath caught and back bowed as I kissed her again, using my lips and tongue to coax her arousal to a fever pitch.

“Mercy, please! Mercy!” she begged but then lifted her hips for more. I used my teeth to nudge aside her panties and flicked her hot pussy with my tongue.

Fuck yeah.

I stood to push my boxer shorts down, slid her own panties down her amazingly long legs, and climbed on top of her. Her legs spread to accommodate me as I settled between them.

“You want relief, baby?” I pushed inside her before she could answer, but it didn’t matter because she gripped me tight and pleaded with her gaze for me to fuck her.

For too long, I’ve waited to get close to her like this. The initial withdrawal drove me crazy, and lonely, cold nights I spent with my dick in my hand pissed me off. 

When I thrust deeper at the reminder, her hands flew above her head to grip the sheets. My attention fixated on her hard nipples poking through her t-shirt. With a groan, I tore her shirt from her body, leaned down to suck her right nipple in my mouth, and slammed inside her. Her body slid up the bed from the force, and I followed, pounding out my past frustration on her body.

She came shortly after. The aftershock of her orgasm caused her pussy to spasm around me. I didn’t want to come yet. I wanted this to last. Her top half rose from the bed so she could dig her nails into my throat and kiss my lips softly. I groaned in response.

So. Fucking. Good.

It was the last cognizant thought I had before I forced myself from her hot pussy and came on her belly. She stared up at me with confusion marring her beautiful face.

“Mine.” It was all the answer I had given before I rubbed my come into her skin, marking her.

“So barbaric,” she mumbled. I dropped beside her, already feeling sleep trying to overcome me when I noticed my belt lying on the bed. I leaned away to remove it but then hesitated.

“Why are you still holding your belt?” she asked curiously.

“I was going to tie your hands together so you couldn’t leave in the middle of the night again.” She shifted, ready to run, but I caught her hand and threaded my fingers through hers and pulled her close. Her entire body was tense, and I couldn’t stand the thought of my touch being the cause. “But I have a better idea.” She turned her head enough to look me in the eye.

“What?”

“If you can stay the night without running, then I’ll know I can trust you and vice versa.” I gave in to my body’s demand for sleep. My last conscious thought was that I hoped she wouldn’t run.

LAKE

I was the
first to wake up the next morning and used the few moments alone to watch Keiran sleep. I’d become accustomed to stealing moments like this, and it started with the first night in our apartment together. He had a nightmare that night and almost every night since. Over time, the nightmares decreased until he no longer had them. I still liked to watch him sleep—to see his guard down and peace replace his demons.

Maybe they were gone.

Or maybe there was one left that wasn’t rightfully his…

“You didn’t run.” His deep voice rumbled above me. I shook my head because emotions stronger than me clogged my throat. He seemed to sense it and pulled me closer for comfort, and it worked but not how he meant it to. The white sheets were around our waist, exposing his naked chest and my breast. The feel of our naked skin together was beginning to redirect my thoughts. He kissed me deeply until I writhed against him.

He abruptly pulled away with a groan and grabbed his phone from his jeans. “We should get going. Di’s already gone back to her apartment.” We had a five-hour drive back to Stanford.

“Before we go back and try to make sense of our lives again, I think there’s something you should know.”

“What is that?”

I figured out a long time ago there was no right time or way to tell him what I learned the day Mitch died, so I decided to just say it.

“You didn’t kill your mother.”

He stared at me, unmoving, and then his expression turned savage as he ripped away from me and left the bed, leaving me feeling cold.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your father—he told me how your mother really died.”

“Well then, he lied, Lake. I had the gun. I pointed it at her. I killed her!” His roar shook my core, and I instinctually wanted to huddle into a ball and make myself as small as possible.

But I couldn’t do that.

He was falling apart right before my eyes, and it was up to me to keep him together and see the truth.

“Baby, listen to me.” I got up and chanced walking closer. I felt as if I were sticking my head in a lion’s mouth and hoping he didn’t bite it off. “Listen to yourself—you had the gun, you pointed it at her, and then she was dead, but did you pull the trigger?”

“I don’t remember, but I guess I had to since she died,” he snarled sarcastically and moved away from me like a skittish kitten.

I followed after him, refusing to back down. “Your father had a gun, too. He pulled the trigger because he didn’t think you could do it. You didn’t kill her. I know you didn’t and you know, too. You question that day. I know you do.”

He barked a short, dry laugh and clutched his hair. “He’s doing it. He’s fucking with me from the grave and he’s using your gullible ass to do it.”

I didn’t feel myself move or my fist as it connected with his jaw as hard as I could. His head jerked and he cursed before returning his enraged glare on me. My hand throbbed as I pulled it back.

“You’re not going to make this go away by trying to hurt me.”

“Why are you doing this?” He shook his head and hissed when he clenched his teeth.

“Because you deserve to know. You don’t have to accept it today or even tomorrow. The only living person who knows about your mother’s death now is you. You can either make sense of it or continue to suffer as you have, but I thought you should know.

And because I had nothing else to say, I retreated into the bathroom, locked the door, and slid down the length of it until my naked bottom touched the cold tile.

How would I ever be able to fix my broken love when he was still afraid of the dark?

KEIRAN

SIXTEEN YEARS AGO

“You’ve already done
this many times. What’s one more?”

The gun felt much too large for the hand I held it in. I’d only begun to practice with them before the life I knew changed drastically. It was loud, and my arm would always be sore after they made me shoot it. Each time I held one didn’t do anything to diminish the foreign and uncomfortable feelings.

The last time I used one was still fresh in my memories. It was the first time I’d ever used one on my own, and unfortunately, I remembered my training too well.

Lily was gone.

I blinked away the tears, afraid my father would mistake them for something else. I managed to keep it steadily trained on the woman who knelt in the corner. She was much too pretty for the tears streaming down her face. Her eyes were much too bright for the sadness it held. I knew she must have been afraid to die, but why didn’t she beg and plead for her life like everyone else?

“Gabriel, my sweet boy,” she whispered soothingly, finally finding her voice. Her voice held an unnatural quality to it, and her eyes wide when I entered had drooped. Her whole appearance just seemed to fade. “It’s okay, my little boy. Do it.”

Why was she telling me it would be okay? She was the one who would die. She must have thought I was someone else. Maybe she was looking for her son.

Suddenly, I wished she were my mom.

A strange, beautiful woman who I’d never met before but felt a connection to.

“Why are you calling me Gabriel?” I lowered the gun to study her. I couldn’t shake the familiar feelings and the feeling that hurting this woman would be a mistake.

I looked to my father for guidance. “Dad?”

“It doesn’t matter what the bitch calls you. Do you want your freedom, boy?”

“Yes.”

“Then kill her,” he sneered. He took my hand and lifted the gun again, pressing my finger on the trigger. All I had to do was squeeze a little more, but for some reason, I didn’t want her to die.

I shouldn’t do this.

I couldn’t do this.

“It’s okay, Gabriel.” She nodded her head weakly. The tears were endless as they fell from her eyes.

You’re not Gabriel. Just kill her. You’ll be free.

“I will always love you.”

What?

The gun went off.

The blast was loud, but I didn’t feel the pain in my arm. It reached far beyond the physical. I didn’t remember squeezing the trigger. I didn’t remember killing her, but there was one thing I would always remember hearing…

“Good job, son.” My father’s evil chuckled echoed behind me. “You just killed your mother.”

* * *

I sat in
the corner of our bedroom and watched her chest rise and fall. The soft sound of contentment was music to my ears. My lips twitched when I remembered the day she made me stop accusing her of snoring.

She shifted in her sleep and my entire body tensed. When she rolled onto her back and settled into sleep once more, I felt my body relax. I didn’t want her to awaken and find me watching her.

She’d ask questions that I didn’t have the answers to.

I just couldn’t sleep. The nightmare of my mother’s murder—when I killed her—played over and over each time I tried. I would wake up in a cold sweat.  

A long time ago, I welcomed the nightmares just so I could have a chance to see her face and hear her voice. Her pain and suffering were the only memory I had of her.

“You didn’t kill your mother.”

Now, I kept hearing Lake’s voice tell me over and over that I didn’t kill my mother. I had lashed out at her in what she thought was anger, but what she didn’t know was that it was real fear that made me push her away. It was fear that she was wrong, and Mitch had only planted the seed in my head to destroy her.

But as she had guessed, I had questioned that night over and over. Each time I had the nightmare, it would become clearer.

I didn’t pull the trigger.

But my mother had died.

Because
Mitch
pulled the trigger.

“Keiran?”

My gaze tore away and found Lake sitting up in the middle of our bed with our sheets wrapped around her body. I could tell she was looking directly at me, but I couldn’t see her face.

My vision was blurry and I couldn’t figure out why until she said, “Ar–are you crying?”

I lifted trembling fingers to my cheek in time to catch the first tear fall. I didn’t understand it.

Monsters don’t cry.

She was out of bed and on her knees in front of me by the time the second one fell. I could see her face a little easier now since she was so close. She lifted a shy hand to my face, and I forced myself not to flinch. She touched the second teardrop and brought her hand back to study it with wonder.

“Keiran.” She exhaled. I gripped the arms of the chair when the room began to spin. “Keiran, look at me.” My heart followed her command even when my head continued to question everything. I looked into her blue-green eyes and didn’t find deceit. “What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t kill her,” I choked.

“Who? Esmerelda?”

“Sophia. My… My mother.”

“Oh, baby.” She stood up and slid into my lap and then slid her hands up my bare chest until they rested on my tear-streaked face. “No. You didn’t kill her.”

I shook my head, dislodging her hands and roughly dried my face with my hands. “But I didn’t save her either.” I gritted my teeth when I felt a sharp pain in my chest near my black hole where my heart should have been.

“You were only a child.”

“I could have done something. My father was right that day. I killed so many, so what was one more? It should have been him.”

“You were born among monsters,” she lifted my face when I hid in her shoulder, “but you were not meant to walk with them.”

“What am I supposed to do now? Knowing I didn’t kill my mother doesn’t change what I’ve done.”

“Keiran Masters, my dark prince,” she touched my face again, “you find out who you really are.”