What she didn’t add was that if I didn’t want to end up like my dad, like David Kavanagh, and like Brock, I needed to mend the pieces I broke in Sam’s life when I killed his father.
He doesn’t know what happened, not yet, but it isn’t a secret either. When the time comes, he’ll know who pulled the trigger on Brock. And I don’t want him to live with the hate that rattled in my gut, the hate that drove his father to lose everything. It eats you alive, consumes you from the inside, burns a hole in your chest, a void you fill with dark desires, with revenge that haunts you. The kid doesn’t deserve it. One day, this kid will be a man. That version of him doesn’t deserve it either.
I will tell this man that I didn’t kill his father to avenge mine. I killed his father to protect the beautiful woman who makes him pancakes every now and then and has sunshine in her laugh, even when she faces the storm. Even when it was the coldest summer ever recorded in Boston.
So now I see Sam every other weekend. We go to fast food joints (all Sparrow’s fault), Patriots games, and we even decided to take this trip to Miami while Cat stayed in Boston to look for a new apartment, just for her and Sam.
Red rolls on the sand until her shoulder bumps into mine. She is laughing hysterically, and even though I keep a stoic face, I’m anything but. God, I fucking love this girl.
“So…” She nuzzles into the crook of my neck, her arms flung over me. “Are you taking me to that fancy restaurant you booked for us last time we were in Miami?”
“Hell no,” I snort. “That was before I realized you’re a McMeal kind of girl. I can treat you to a hot, sexy dinner date at Wendy’s if you’re up for it.”
“Make it IHOP and you’re on. They have pancakes and hot chocolate.”
“Classy girl. And I bet you’ll still put out afterwards.”
“Damn right I will. I’m only using you for your body, Mr. Brennan.”
“And for the cash. Don’t forget the cash.”
“Nah, I make my own money, thank you very much.” She plants a kiss on my jaw, and I beam like an idiot, because she’s right. Red’s rolling in it nowadays. Her business won’t make us millionaires, but her pancake business is pretty solid.
I lean on one elbow, diving in for a deep kiss. I snake one hand to her taut stomach, still flat and gloriously pale despite the Miami sun.
“How is my little guy doing?”
“Could be a girl.” She cocks one eyebrow.
“I kind of wish it is. Boys are such a headache. You should know.” I’m just messing around with her, though. I have no preference either way. All I know is that I wasn’t ready to be a dad until she told me I would be, and now? I can’t fucking wait.
Even villains have a happy ending every now and again.
“Sparrow Raynes, anything you’ll give me, I will happily take.” I sound like a sappy dipshit, but sometimes you gotta pour some of the love in your heart out to make room for the next wave of joy. Ours is coming next fall. October 11th is the due date, by the way.
“I’m Sparrow Brennan now,” she corrects. “I was only Sparrow Raynes when I used to be your nightmare.”
“You were never a nightmare. At first, you were business…” I smirk, my fingers spreading wide on her stomach. “And then, at some point, you became my pleasure.”
“And what am I now?” She covers my hand in hers over her stomach, squeezing it hard.
“Now, my lovebird, you’re my home.”
THE END