Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 154728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
I shook my head. “That’s on him.”
Knox’s lips were a thin line. He didn’t agree.
I sighed. I wasn’t going to convince him.
“We don’t need more attention,” I said finally, decision made. I was willfully deciding to break the law Acquiescing to be an accomplice to murder. I’d go to jail if this was ever discovered. Mabel would be without me. I was trusting Knox with not only my life but with Mabel’s. It should’ve scared me more, but I trusted him, implicitly.
He nodded once, head tilting to the sound of a motorcycle in the drive.
Mabel shrieked, knowing that sound.
The thump of Kane’s boots sounded as he bounded through the door. “Chef—”
He halted as soon as he could see into the kitchen. Horrified, his eyes went to me, to the body, to Mabel in her play center then finally to Knox.
“I’m taking care of it,” were Knox’s words.
And he did.
Our wedding present from Kane’s brother included body disposal and crime scene cleanup, apparently.
And that was our ending.
Kind of.
Epilogue
Just because the villain was dead and the family was saved didn’t mean we got a happily ever after.
After murder in our kitchen, life went on.
It had to.
My restaurant opened to glowing reviews. Each night, every table was filled, the reviewers, food bloggers and ‘influencers’ raving about it. Kiera had come for the grand opening then stayed for a little while longer. Both to bask in the joy that Mabel was and to recharge herself. I could see that my friend was burning out. Her social media life had catapulted, so she featured in a constant stream of posts, events, videos. Though she pretended that this was all she’d ever wanted, I knew my friend, and she was fraying at the seams.
Not that she admitted that to me. Which wasn’t a surprise since I knew she was watching me for signs of unraveling. She didn’t know about the big secret, no one except Kane and Knox did, but she saw me, saw the results of it.
Which was part of my not so happy ending.
I had a thriving business, was back in the kitchen, was married to a man I loved, and most of all, I had an amazing, healthy baby girl and a family I’d reconnected with.
And I’d only just started recovering from postpartum anxiety when a former enemy came into our home, armed, and threatening to steal my baby. Brax had been ready to kill me before my brother-in-law shot him and dragged his body away somewhere it, presumably, would never be found.
A counterbalance to our happy ending.
It turned out that almost dying in front of your infant daughter, having the prospect of her being in the hands of a madman and seeing that madman die was pretty traumatic.
I knew in theory that I was dealing with heavy stuff. But I expected to be able to compartmentalize the event, to tuck it away somewhere deep, where it wouldn’t affect me.
I’d excelled at that, organizing things neatly in my mind to ensure that they never leaked into other parts of me.
Yet my mind was not organized.
Before the event, and most certainly after, my mind was muddled. Was any mother in possession of a stable mind, even on her best day?
Although Mabel had finally started to sleep in her crib in her nursery, I could no longer stand her to be even a room away from me. I’d watch the monitor obsessively until my eyes could no longer stay open. Then I’d wake up in a cold sweat, scrambling to her room in order to make sure she was still there, still breathing.
Kane was there during all of this, rubbing my back, murmuring that he’d watch over her so I could get some sleep.
I trusted him with my life, with Mabel’s, but I still couldn’t let go.
I’d begun to bring her into bed with us, aware of the controversy surrounding such things, but I couldn’t sleep, could barely breathe without feeling her warm body next to mine, my hand on her chest, feeling it rise and fall.
Kane didn’t protest; he was willing to do anything and everything to get me sleeping. To help. I knew he felt powerless, that he was battling his own demons about the event.
Blame.
He carried a lot of it.
For not being there.
For not killing Brax in the first place.
He needed Mabel next to him just as much as I did.
My doctor prescribed me pills to help with the anxiety. I didn’t take the pills. Not solely because I didn’t think I needed them, but because a warped part of me felt that was letting Brax win.
Mabel still slept in bed with us. I still struggled with working the kitchen at Tides every night. I had the control I craved. Got to work in a space where I was sure, certain. An expert.