Bad Seed

At one time, yes. I used to think my dad would have done anything for me. At one time, I believed he would have paid any amount to get me back and keep me safe – just as I would have done for him. Now though, it was clear that he only wanted to protect himself. That I was on my own. He left town, without a warning, knowing there were people after him.

He left me behind to fend for myself against people like Killian and perhaps even the Italian mafia. What kind of father would do such a thing to their little girl? One who stopped caring about anything other than saving their own ass – no matter the cost to those around him.

“You're probably wasting your time,” I muttered, resting my head against the table and closing my eyes. “Even if my father had the cash he owed you, he would rather snort it than save me. Believe me about that. I've seen his priorities up close and personal for a long time now.”

“I guess we'll just have to wait and see,” Killian said. “Not like we have anything to lose by waiting, do we?”

I turned my head slightly to see Killian standing in my periphery. “And what if he doesn't come through, huh?” I ask. “What's that mean for me?”

Killian stared at me long and hard, a serious look etched upon his handsome face. He stared at me in a way that didn't seem nearly as ominous. That dead look in his eyes that had chilled me to the core had somehow vanished. Had I met him on the street randomly, looking at me like he was right then, I never would have pegged him as a dangerous man. He looked like an accountant or a businessman, someone with a family in the suburbs. Not a cold-blooded killer. Yet, the emptiness he had in his eyes told me otherwise.

The fact that he could seemingly flip a switch though, was more than a little disturbing. It told me that Killian was a chameleon, a man who could blend into any set of surroundings and operate behind the scenes with impunity. He could look so – normal – he'd probably be last on anybody's list of suspects.

It also left me wondering – which one was the real Killian? Accountant or sociopath?

“We'll do whatever we have to do,” he said, his voice soft, but not in the least bit reassuring. “Family comes first, Kara. I'll do whatever it takes to protect my own family, to keep them all safe, and more importantly, free. And since you know who we are now – well, I think you can figure out the rest.”

With that, he turned to Declan. “Keep her safe, for now. I'll set you both up with a place to stay, and in the meantime, we can take care of Jack for you,” he said. “Remember, if she gets out – there are others more dangerous than us are out there. They're all probably looking for her, and they likely won't be as nice as you are. Keep your head up, brother.”

Great. So Declan here was my only chance at remaining safe and in one piece. He turned and when our eyes met, I felt a breath catch in my throat. While part of me wanted to believe the good I saw in him, and he seemed to hold some sympathy in those eyes as he looked at me, I had to balance it out against who he was. What he did. The fact of the matter was, he still worked for a ruthless son of a bitch like Killian. He couldn't be a good guy working for someone like that. It just wasn't possible – and if what Killian said is true, family likely came first for him too.

Which meant nothing good was going to come out of this for me.

CHAPTER FIVE

DECLAN

Kara sat in the backseat of the car Killian loaned me as I drove. The doors in the back couldn't be opened from the inside – some sort of safety feature. Childproof locks or something, I supposed. Either way, she wasn't getting out, especially since her hands were still tied, something she wasn't happy about and made sure to remind me of anytime I tried to talk to her.

“You know, I don't like this either,” I grumbled.

“Well you're not the one with your hands tied,” she answered.

The windows in the black were tinted so dark, she could barely see out and no one could see in. Yet, she stared at the black window as if she could watch the world passing her by without a problem at all. Killian told me to blindfold her, but I refused. She was still a human being, and this little babysitting job felt shitty enough as it was. If Killian hadn't made it a point to remind me she'd be in worse danger if we let her go, well, I wouldn't be doing this at all. As shitty as I felt, at least I could take some small comfort in knowing I could keep her safe.

Also, he had my son. Not that I thought Killian would hurt his own nephew, but I had no desire to take that chance if I did something to piss him off. I knew my brother wasn't what he appeared to be most of the time, but I'd seen sides of my brother that still surprised me. If it wasn't for the life of his family, I might suspect he was a sociopath. Hell, maybe he was. Maybe the love he had for his wife and kids was fake – emotions that weren't real and were designed simply to make him appear normal. Maybe, having a family and a nice, suburban kind of life helped him blend into society and the world around him better. Maybe he was that good of an actor after all.

The idea that both of my brothers were scumbags didn't sit well with me. I remember that at one point in our lives, we'd been normal kids. We played together. We enjoyed movies and action figures and working on cars. We talked about girls and what we wanted to be when we grew up.

Of the three of us, I was the only one who actually set out to live my dream. I'd always wanted to be a fighter. Even as a kid, I was incredibly interested in MMA. But, somewhere along the lines, my brothers gave up their dreams. Killian had wanted to be a surgeon. Rory had wanted to be a race car driver. Typical dreams for boys, maybe, that are easily discarded as we grow and mature. But, to think that my brothers were both criminal masterminds, possibly even killers, who had no sense of right or wrong filled me with remorse and guilt – and plenty of sadness and loss. They hadn't always been that way.

“Where are we going?” Kara asked.

Her brown eyes were the largest thing on her face. Her skin was pale, contrasting with the rich darkness of her hair. She looked young to me and innocence shone from her in ways I hadn't seen in myself in years. Then again, I was probably pretty jaded growing up the way I had.

Not that it sounded like her life had been any better or easier than mine.

“I don't know,” I muttered as I stared at the GPS that Killian had programmed for me. “But wherever we're going, we'll apparently be there in a couple of minutes.”

We were outside the city of Chicago and had been for a while. Skyscrapers and car-packed streets had long been replaced by corn fields and empty roads that stretched out as far as the eye could see. That was the thing about Chicago – it was a major, metropolitan city in the middle of flyover country. Outside of Chicago, there really isn't much to see other than a lot of lonely roads and farms.

The GPS told me to turn down a one-lane road that was paved – though, just barely. Gravel still coated the road in spots, shooting upward and clanking against the wheel well as the car jostled while we drove over the many bumps and through the even more numerous holes. I squinted to see what was up ahead, but there was nothing. There was nothing but trees as far as the eye could see.

I kept driving for what felt like an eternity, especially at the speed we were going – which was snail's pace slow, to hopefully avoid damaging the tires on the car. My brother had loaned me a black BMW, the nicest car I'd ever personally driven before, and it made me nervous. The last thing I wanted to do was return it with dents, dings, or any sort of mechanical issue.

Finally, the road opened up to a large driveway, and we pulled up to a house at the very end of it. It was set back behind some trees, hidden from easy view. You really had to be looking for the place to actually find it.

I parked and stared at the house for a good, long while. It felt familiar for some reason, but I couldn't place it. It was a nice cabin. Small, but well-maintained. A tall privacy fence circled most of the house, and around the driveway we were parked in. A gate could be closed and locked, keeping us inside the fenced in area. It felt claustrophobic and made it seem almost prison-like even to think about that.