Having spent so much time homeless and people watching, I know a good-hearted person starved for affection. I clear my throat.
“Oh, yeah, his little sister. Kier said you liked . . .” I glance her over, searching for another tell, and my eyes stop on her slender fingers. A charm bracelet embellishes her thin wrist. A diamond-studded musical note flashes in the scarce sunrays, catching my eye.
I snap my fingers. “You like the piano. So, did he tell you about me?” I quip, wondering why I feel the need to rebuff her bruised heart.
A bubble of laughter bursts from her mouth. “Ava, you’ve a knack for dishonesty. It’s refreshing, though. My brother wouldn’t mention me. Not many people know I exis—oh, no.”
“Come again?” I softly question. At the horror in her face, I whip around.
A middle-aged man and woman are on their knees. They’re in business-class attire, wool coats. Something about them would be amicable were they not dropping their faces to the ground, away from the assault rifle in Kieran’s hands. He’s got an audience of his men. Only one of them is weaponless. I assume the guy gave Kieran his piece.
“Rain check on the chat, Ava.” Kiera smiles again, this one for my benefit before she darts to them. A deep scarlet flushing her cheeks, she places herself in front of the crouched couple.
“Brother!” Kiera gasps.
“Move.” Kieran’s brogue becomes so heavy, she flinches.
Hands clenched at her sides, Kiera snaps. “Aren’t these theparentsyou gave me?”
He offers a stiff nod, the barrel of his assault rifle pointed away from her. “Aye. But you forget one crucial aspect. They’rereplaceable,sister.”
“Ava, help me,” Kiera calls out, her round eyes searching across the grounds until our gazes clash. “Tellhimto see reason.”
“Me?” Dropping my hands on my chest, I gawk at her. I’m standing in a sandy puddle of ocean water with my hair matted and drying to my skin.
Kiera’s arms wrap around the woman’s neck, and she hugs the lady with all her might. Her brother thrusts the gun into his unarmed henchman’s hand. He takes a Glock from another one.
He grips the hair of the man on the ground, thrusting the barrel into his mouth.
“You promised to keep my sister safe, aye?”
Blood and saliva stream down the man’s face while he nods.
Oye.While my lips tremble and a chilly breeze brushes against my stiff clothes, it . . . all . . . connects. Since Kieran’s parents’ death, these two poor, unfortunate souls crouched on their knees are his teenage sister’s caretakers.
“Brother, please,” Kiera cries as the other woman also begs for the man’s safety. “Benson and Pearla have done everything you ask of them.”
“We had a letter,” Pearla says. “My husband and I had a letter. It requested her arrival at once.”
“Not from me!” Kieran pistol whips the side of Benson’s face. Kieran wipes the back of his hand over his snarl then demands, “Where’s Marty!” Kieran dispatches two men to retrieve him.
“Um . . .” Kiera removes her arms from a shuddering Pearla. He stalks back and forth in front of luxury cars. The confidence Kiera had when running toward us no longer exists. Lips hardly moving, she mutters, “Kier . . .”
Kieran ceases his pacing of the driveway to attend to his sister.
“If something happens to you . . .” His stony voice vanishes. Kieran’s hands run through his little sister’s hair, and the first sign of affection moves my entire soul.
The moment is fleeting as Kieran lifts his hand over Kiera’s shoulder, fisting the silenced gun. I just set sights on Marty when the guy has a bullet lodged between his eyes.
The caregivers hold onto each other while Kieran pats his sister’s shoulder. “Now, see. You’ve always said I don’t listen, little sister. This is me attending to your needs. You’ve a fondness for your caregivers, aye.”
She sniffles, and he runs a tender hand over her tears. “Unlike my mate, Marty, here,” he gestures toward the slain man, who’s slumped next to a super car, “I’m prepared to spare them. God willing. I just require an explanation. Someone,anyone,explain it to me.How my sister camehere.”
I notice that, when referring to this place, he doesn’t call it home, not in connection to Kiera. It’s Kieran’s home. If I’m bat-shit crazy enough to believe him, it’smyhome. Nevertheless, this fortress doesn’t belong to Kiera.
“I did it,” Kiera replies, voice muffled.
Kieran shakes his head, and dried sand rains over his broad shoulders. “Not possible. Try something else.”