Total pages in book: 183
Estimated words: 178343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 892(@200wpm)___ 713(@250wpm)___ 594(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 178343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 892(@200wpm)___ 713(@250wpm)___ 594(@300wpm)
“My mother’s murderer,” he says, finally, then loosens his grip on me.
My heart trips over itself, but honestly, this doesn’t totally surprise me.
He stares right into my eyes. “It happened a month after I found her dead.”
“How?” I ask. “How did he die?”
Our faces are mere inches apart. He closes his eyes and anguish slashes across his face before he looks at me again.
“First time I held a gun, I put it directly to his forehead and immediately pulled that trigger. No hesitation. Seventeen years old and it was that easy for me.” He takes another swig of beer, but as he swallows his expression makes it look like he tastes something foul.
I suddenly feel like I wish I could have alcohol, too. And that’s not typically my go-to when I’m stressed or shocked. Having your husband admit cold-blooded murder while looking directly into your eyes can do that, I guess.
His gaze moves to the window. “The men who were with me at the time told me if I wanted to give up the bookie game, I could easily rake in the dough being a contract killer.”
And now I’ve got a little bit of vertigo. I shiver and he notices, gets pulled out of wherever he’s gone to in his head. Wherever that murder took place, I’m guessing. Or back to his home where he found his mother.
He tightens the blanket around me, then continues. “I didn’t want that life. Hey? I don’t want you to feel stressed. This is too much.”
I shake my head. Will the truth set me free of the stress or will it make it worse? I don’t know. But I feel like I have to hear this.
“I need to know everything,” I say. “So I…” I clear my throat.
“So you can decide whether or not you wanna be tied to me for the rest of your life?”
I search his face and say nothing. His jaw ticks for a minute before he moistens his lips and continues.
“Because you are tied to me. And I’m not giving up on fixing what I broke. Not ever, Violet. That’s not me trying to scare you or upset you. That’s me letting you know how much I love you, how much I want you. I know we can fix what I broke.”
I say, “I’m listening. Is there more?”
“So yeah,” he continues, “I ended him. And then for a long time, for fucking years – it messed with me, the regret that it was over so quick. That I didn’t make it hurt more. That after the years of pain he inflicted on her and my kid brother, I let him off so quick, so easy.”
My throat is a desert right now and my heart feels like it’s beating in my throat. Killian’s gaze is pointed at the window and his eyes are green icebergs. He’s stone-cold right now.
And the chill moves straight through me in slow-motion.
This is why Ray’s still alive.
This is why he’s taken his time hurting him.
Killian is deeply damaged because of his mom’s abuser, because of finding her dead. Because of feeling like he had to commit murder. And at such a young age.
“Did he… hurt you, too?” I ask.
Killian’s eyes move to my face and warmth seeps in.
“Not really. Grew up in a rough neighborhood. Grew up with her for a mother, so I was tough. Hard as nails. He couldn’t penetrate that and he didn’t push his luck with me too often. Not that he didn’t on occasion try to push my buttons. Got into it physically a couple times but I was a match so he backed off. Not like he did with her and Will. She was broken. Never a great mother. Practically raised myself and my kid brother myself, especially after Nan died. But things didn’t truly escalate with the bullshit revolving around her choice in men until I hit my mid-teens. She just wanted him to love her, so she did whatever she could to hold onto him. No matter that he took and never gave. No matter that he cheated, called her worthless, and slapped her around. And she was beautiful. Didn’t know how pretty she was. Didn’t know her life could’ve been different if she would’ve tried. She got hooked on booze. Addicted to the numbness, I’d say. And hooked on his approval, I guess. Did whatever he wanted her to do. He had Willie so scared shitless the kid pissed the bed at ten, eleven years old, had nightmares until he started sleeping in my room. After she was murdered, after I pulled that trigger, I started havin’ the nightmares. But Willie didn’t have them anymore. He started flourishing.”
“That’s why you keep hurting Ray. So you won’t regret letting him off easy.”
“He can go to Porto Campo. Then I can move on, stop taking my anger out on him but I can sleep at night knowing he’s still suffering.”