Owen, the man standing in as Irish Captain until Killian and I produce an heir, appears in front of me with a sad yet warm smile on his face.
“Yes?”
“It’s time,” he says softly and pressure hits my chest like a freight train.
Of course. It’s funeral time.
A driver takes us from the wake to the church but it’s a blur for me. Faces and words brush past me and over my head as the only thing I can focus on is the warmth of Killian’s supportive hand in mine. It’s there as we enter the church and take our seats. And it’s there as the priest gives his speech.
I hear none of it.
A roaring settles in my ears and drowns everything out the moment I lock eyes with my father’s coffin and I can’t tear my gaze away. The gleaming mahogany glints back at me.
We kept the spirits at bay, dad.
I clutch at Killian’s hand so tightly that my wrist starts to ache but I can’t look away, not even when it’s Owen’s turn to stand up and deliver a speech as my father’s most loyal friend and confidant. His voice buzzes around me, echoing around the church as Irish and Italians alike laugh at the stories delivered and the memories shared.
Then it’s my turn.
Killian whispers something in my ear but I barely register it as I stand on autopilot, smooth my dress and wobble the path up the altar to deliver my speech. I have it written on small pink cards that I pull from my pocket and place in front of me as my heart threatens to split in my chest and spray crimson over the sea of eyes staring up at me.
“My father—,” I begin but the words don’t feel like mine. Nausea swirls in my gut and I grip the lectern hard, scoring the edges into my palm, and the world before me blurs behind a few more tears that escape the dam.
Please.Just let me get through this.
Then, ever my savior, Killian appears at my side.
His strong arm encircles my waist and his words boom out around the church, delivering the speech I could not. My limbs are numb, my ears deaf and my heart is pounding sluggishly in my chest as Killian finishes and whisks me away from all prying eyes and thoughts.
The world doesn’t stop swimming until Killian is in front of me, gently cupping my face and I finally blink away the blur in my eyes.
We’re home?When did we get home?
Killian’s mouth is moving but the words don’t penetrate the cloud of grief I’m lost in, not until his thumbs swipe under my eyelashes, catching the tears clinging there.
“Cara? Baby, talk to me,” Killian says in a voice so thick, so deep that I’m being swept up in it.
I surge forward, crashing our mouths together in a desperate plea for him to take me, use me, make me forget.
He doesn’t. His hands close on my shoulders and he pushes me away, holding me at arm’s length
“Cara, no,” he says and a spark of fury ignites in my chest.
How dare he push me away?!
I open my mouth to speak, to snap and yell but he draws me into his body, wrapping his arms tight around me in an all-consuming hug and the words in my throat turn into a wail of pain.
The dam breaks, the walls crumble and I collapse against Killian as grief cracks me wide open like a celestial punch. He clutches me close to him, sinking down onto the floor and cradling me to his chest like a baby.
I sob desperately, tears pouring so fast I’m drowning.
My father is dead and I am adrift.
6
KILLIAN
Blood sprays over my hands and up the wall to my left, painting a delightful pattern as the man in my grasp takes his last gurgling breath. These kinds of men never take the easy route but it doesn’t phase me, I’ve never shied away from hard work.