He grunts and turns off the water. We get out together and begin to towel off.
“We were at a club of mine speaking with some associates from the Hayle family.” He doesn’t look at me as he talks. He’s telling the story in a low tone like he’s trying his best to relate what happened without any emotions in his voice to color the story. “It was a routine meeting. I was getting a feel for what some of the captains and lieutenants were thinking. Things were going fine, we were having a productive discussion, when six gunmen kicked in the door and started shooting.” He grimaces and closes his eyes.
I get out gauze and tape from the first aid kit and cover his wound. When that’s finished, we head into the bedroom and get dressed. I help him into bed and he collapses against the pillow, face-first. I turn off the lights and curl up beside him, running my fingers down his spine.
“We lost men tonight,” he says, voice muffled. “The Hayle family and my own crew.”
“Finn? Rory?”
“Both of them are fine, but we lost others you haven’t met.” He rolls onto his back and stares at the ceiling. “This is the price of leadership. When something goes wrong, it falls on me. There’s nobody else to blame for what happened. I should’ve had more muscle at that club. We fought them back, but more lives could’ve been spared if I was ready.”
“It’s not your fault. You can’t predict the future.”
“But I should try anyway.” He closes his eyes and lets out a low, rumbling sigh. “I didn’t think Hugh would start moving on me this early, and I absolutely didn’t think he’d do it when his own men were in the room. But as soon as that door opened, those bastards were already on the floor like they knew it was coming.”
“What are you going to do?” My heart races quickly thinking about what retribution Kellen’s got planned.
But he only shakes his head. “Violence,” he says and doesn’t elaborate.
We drift into silence. His breathing steadies, and soon I’m sure he’s asleep. The man must be exhausted from what happened, and I can feel his tension even in his sleep.
The guilt won’t leave me alone though, and closing my eyes does nothing but let my mind wander.
The notebook on his bedside table is full of things I know about the family. Details, relationships, names and addresses.
But it’s missing one crucial detail.
I’ve kept this close to my heart, hidden down beneath layers of denial and disassociation. Memories are malleable and they can be molded and tricked if you try hard enough.
There’s one memory I’ve kept locked away.
One fact I didn’t tell Kellen.
And now I wonder if I should tell him what I know about his father’s death.