Brutal Love

Chapter One

Cara

Death has a way of making the world seem a little quieter. Lights seem a little dimmer, the sun a little grayer in the sky, and even the orange and hibiscus shower gel I’m rubbing into my skin seems to smell a little blander than before. Maybe it’s always been a mild scent and I’ve just never noticed.

Who pays attention to that anyway? Who steps into their shower and truly appreciates the scent of their shower gel in case it’s the last time they ever smell it?

Who even cares about that Cara?

I don’t. Not really. The gel tingles over my skin as I run my loofah over my arms, across my shoulders, and down my chest, washing away all the sweat and grime from another restless, sleepless night. 

It’s been two days since my father was murdered and it still doesn’t seem real. No matter how often I replay the scene in my head, it doesn’t feel like it happened. In truth, I don’t even remember all the details. The blazing fire is scarred into my mind, overruling anything else from the rest of that night, except for Killian holding me so tight I was certain I would shatter into a million pieces the moment he let me go. That and his voice, deep and furious about where I had been and how reckless I was for scaring him.

He’d thought I’d died. Killian had existed for twenty minutes thinking I was dead in my car.

I direct my face into the powerful stream of water and let the shower wash away all the soap suds clinging to my body. Cotton clogs my throat and I swallow hard, trying to shift the lump as warmth stings behind my eyelids and another round of heartbreak threatens to spill forth.

It wasn’t me in the car. It was my father because I was across town confronting Blair about her inability to leave Killian and me alone.

Her face flickering into my mind pulls back the urge to cry and I shift my shoulders, hot water skittering down my back as I move.

Fucking Blair. Fucking Blair and her lies about a child.

It’s easier to breathe when I focus on her, my mind desperately scrambles to lock onto a distraction from the pain that’s nestled in my chest. It doesn’t hurt as much when I pour all my energy into her as if I’m still there in the parking lot, facing her down.

As if the past two days haven’t happened.

I close my eyes as the shower droplets pound into my skin and the heat seeps deep, trying to reach and fill this new cavern that’s been torn into my chest. If I stay like this, exactly like this, nothing else matters.

I’m suspended in warmth, the world drowned out by the beat of water pressure.

A knock at the door breaks me out of my trance and I dip my head, letting the water cascade through my hair and splash into the tub below.

“Cara?” Sadie’s warm voice drifts through the locked door, dragging me back to reality and the crushing grief creeps back into my chest.

“Cara?” Sadie calls again, worry lacing her tone. Killian has been kind enough to let her and Kimmy stay here while I plan the funeral although I don’t remember giving him much of a choice. It’s a bit of a blur but he’s giving me the space I asked for.

Asked may be a softened version. I more so screamed at him.

If he was here, I would spend my days wrapped up in his arms crying my heart out and nothing would get done, and my father at least deserves a proper funeral. 

Action first, feelings later.

“Yeah?” I call back, working to make myself sound as strong as possible. The cotton lump in my throat doesn’t ease, catching on my words as I force them out.

“Are you okay?” Sadie asks softly, “the pizza’s here and I—well I just wanted to let you know.”

Huh. I must have been hiding longer than I thought.

“I’m nearly done!” I call out to her.

“Okay well…” She pauses and I glance at the door. I can picture her hovering outside, unsure what to say or do. Everyone around me has the same look in their eyes, the same cautiousness when approaching me, like I’m made of crystal glass teetering on the edge of a chasm.

It feels like that even in my dreams sometimes.

“We’ll be downstairs,” Sadie finishes after her pause. I nod–not that she can see me–and turn my face back into the hot stream of water. How simple it would be to remain here forever.

Come on girl, buck up. You can do this. You can get this out the way, and then you can breathe.

As I step out of the shower, Blair’s face swims back into my mind and the grief in my chest once again hardens. My mind is clearer when I focus on Blair and her claims, the anger keeping me above the foggy grief settling into my heart.

I grab a towel and step into the bedroom, running the cotton roughly over my heat-stung skin with little thought to comfort as my mind runs.

She claims she is the mother to Killian’s child. That she gave birth after they broke up all those years ago.

I don’t believe it. 

I can’t believe it. 

Too much of it doesn’t make sense but as I rummage through my drawers in search of clothes, I know I’m not exactly in the best mindset to work through something like this. 

I haven’t even told Killian yet.

I don’t know how. Breaking it to him will be like giving bad news and there’s been enough of that already. I dress in a pair of black cotton lounge pants and one of Killian’s gray t-shirts. He might not be here right now but I want to feel close to him, and wrapping up in his scent is the best way to do so.

I bunch the fabric up in one hand and press it to my nose, closing my eyes as I breathe him in. For a split second, the urge to be with him rises again. How desperately I want to sink into his arms and have that strength gather me close but I know as soon as I do, I will become useless. I won’t be able to think clearly, never mind plan a funeral.

Smoothing the t-shirt back down against my body, I gather my hair into a wet knot and head downstairs to where Sadie and Kimmy are seated around the counter with the pizza box between them. They speak in hushed whispers, gentle words I can’t decipher as I walk closer until Sadie catches sight of me over Kimmy’s shoulder and her face breaks into a soft smile.

“Cara…”

There it is. That voice people use when you’ve lost someone. That soft, sort of sickly sympathetic voice smothers me almost as much as the pain does. It grates on my ears but I can’t snap at them. They’re here for me and I’m grateful. I just wish they didn’t look at me like that.

Like I’m seconds away from breaking down into hysterics. I swallow hard, the lump in my throat growing so I force my thoughts back onto Blair. I have to stay focused. I have to stay in control.

“Hi.” My voice sounds alien to my ears, small and rough from sobbing into my pillow where no one is watching. 

“Come here.” Kimmy pulls a stool closer to her and pats the seat so I hop into it as Sadie slides a pizza slice in front of me.

The smell of cheese and grease makes my stomach flip but I force a smile as we sit in prolonged silence.

Kimmy and Sadie exchange a look they think I don’t see.

Sadie takes a breath. “More flowers came, from people your father worked with I think? I didn’t know he knew so many people.”

“He was clearly well-loved,” Kimmy agrees as she raises a brow at Sadie.

I can’t hold back my scoff. 

Well-loved?

Sadie turns to the counter behind her and grabs the bottle of red wine resting there, then three glasses. 

So many people died because of him, I nearly died because of him. Those aren’t flowers of love. My gaze fixes on the counter and I run my thumb along the scratch torn into the countertop before I notice that they’ve both gone silent.

Right.

They don’t know. They don’t know my father was the Captain of the Irish Mafia for my entire life.

“I’m sorry.” I lift my head and force an apologetic smile, “I didn’t mean that. I just… he worked with a lot of people that only knew him by name y’know? They send flowers because they think they should, not because they care.”

Kimmy rests her hand on my shoulder, stroking warmth down my back and it takes every ounce of my will not to recoil from her touch.

“I know,” Kimmy replies softly as Sadie also sparks back to life and begins pouring the wine. “What happened to your father was… awful. Random acts like that have been happening all over these past few months. But don’t you worry, I know my parents are taking this very seriously.”

Of course. Kimmy’s parents are detectives and my father was an important name even outside of the mafia. I manage to swallow down the next scoff that rises uninvited. They can look for the culprit all they want.

Killian will get there first. I know that for a fact.

The floorboards creak and we all turn to see Archer Arco in the doorway, his face as stoic as ever. For some reason that comforts me more than Kimmy and Sadie. It’s as if his unwavering calmness is the only normal thing to exist here right now. 

“Does Killian not get jealous of someone that gorgeous following you around all the time? Or does his work require everyone to be the sexy, strong and silent type,” Kimmy murmurs under her breath and her lips curl into a sly smirk I know so well. It’s the smirk she carries into clubs when she decides to turn what she sees as eye candy into a target, only there’s no party boys to distract her now.

Archer hasn’t left my side since the explosion that killed my father, by order of Killian. I didn’t fight this request, not when he knows I wasn’t on site when the explosion occurred. 

That’s a heavy conversation waiting to happen.

“Archer!” Kimmy exclaims and she grabs the wine bottle, holding it aloft and wiggling it. “Do you want some wine?”

“No.”

His blunt answer causes a bubble of laughter to rise in my chest and I can’t smother it. I slap a hand over my mouth, alarmed as the humor escapes, turning back to Kimmy and Sadie with wide eyes.

Kimmy rolls her eyes, disappointed as she turns back to the counter. 

“I’m sorry,” I giggle, “he’s just so…”

“No,” Sadie and Kimmy mock in their most serious voices. Somehow that tickles me further and the laughter explodes once more, worse when they join me. I don’t understand what’s wrong with me, Archer’s apathetic approach to everything surrounding Killian isn’t new and yet it amuses me like the funniest comedy I’ve ever seen.

As the laughter calms, I grab my wine glass and take a large gulp as Kimmy settles into eating a pizza slice and Sadie leans against the table, dabbing at her lip gloss. 

“So,” I breathe out, regaining my composure after another sip. “I heard from the caterers this morning when I woke up, so all of that is set, and since we can’t do an open casket as per tradition, I’ve picked out the shroud I want him wrapped in and I’ve chosen ribbon as the decoration.”

Kimmy reaches out and closes one of her hands over mine, gripping tightly. I squeeze back gratefully as my voice begins to waver.

“Because of how… quickly things are moving, we’ll have the wake in the morning and that will lead into the funeral in the late afternoon and that’ll be it. Done and dusted.” My heart stutters painfully and I bury a hiccup of emotion into my wine glass, taking several large gulps as Sadie nods. 

“Everything is set,” Sadie replies softly.

“Honestly Cara, you shouldn’t focus too much on the details. We’re taking care of everything. And Sienna? She’s been amazing,” Kimmy smiles strongly at me but it doesn’t quite meet her eyes.

Of course Sienna is taking care of things. My debt to her is growing in the back of my mind, one I don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay.

“You need to focus on yourself,” Sadie agrees, sliding from her stool and moving around to settle on the other side of me. The moment their warmth settles around me, the knot in my throat swells painfully.

“I’m fine,” I smile but the words crack in my mouth.

Keep it together Cara! Think of Blair. 

This time thinking of Blair and her poisonous words doesn’t stabilize me as much as it did before, not with my best friends this close. My lower lip wobbles and I swallow again, choking faintly around the lump nestled deep in my throat as Sadie’s arms wind around my shoulders and Kimmy’s slide around my waist.

“I am focused,” I manage shakily as my eyes swim and blur and heat prickles up my spine. They pull me close and I’m trapped between them, hands brushing over my body in soothing touches as their words fade to nothing more than comforting sounds, and I waver.

My eyes close and tears spill, silent and hot down my cheeks as Blair fades from my mind and the grief cracks open my chest.

I’m not fine.