Brutal Kiss

I turn away and walk to the door. Rian comes after me, limping fast. The dog is still in the dining room, and he whines slightly, tail wagging. Poor guy, none of this is his fault.

“Daley.” Shane’s there, following. “Wait, Daley.”

Rian opens the door and steps out, but doesn’t go farther.

I face my brother one last time.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to tell anyone. Your secret is safe. Unlike you, I really don’t want anything to do with the clan or the mafia or any of these fucking people ever again. So go back to your life and do whatever the hell you want.”

Shane looks relieved and guilty. He really was going to ask if I planned on telling anyone, that selfish piece of trash.

The brother I knew and loved is dead and gone, replaced by this man, this total stranger.

This murderer.

“It was good seeing you,” he says, trying to smile, but it fades. “Even if everything’s so fucked up.”

“Go to hell, Shane. As far as I’m concerned, you’re still dead, and I hope you stay that way.”

I turn and leave. Rian shuts the door behind me as I walk back to the truck and climb in. He gets in next, settles into the passenger seat, and turns to me.

“I love you,” he says. “What you just did in there took so much bravery, and I’m proud of you for facing it. I love you, Daley.”

“I love you, too.” I smile tightly and lean over to kiss him, lips gently pressed against his. “Now, I’m going to start this car, and I’m going to drive west. I’m going to keep on driving until I’m too tired to drive. Then I’m gonna do it again tomorrow.”

“Yeah? And where are we headed?”

“I have no clue. Want to find out?”

“I really do.” He squeezes my hand and kisses my fingers. “I won’t live without you, Daley.”

I start the engine.

Chapter 33

Daley

One Year Later

I step out onto the back porch, stretch my aching back, hold my cup of coffee in both hands, soaking up the warmth, and watch the rain drizzle down over the grass.

It smells like fresh wet dirt and tree pollen. I smile to myself, breathing it deep. The high fence cuts me off from the neighbors, but I catch drifting conversation, the sound of music pulsing, cars starting, kids laughing. Life happening all around. I sip my decaf and wish it were the real thing, but if that’s my only problem, then life is pretty good.

“You’re gonna get wet, you know.”

Rian steps outside and wraps his arms around me, hugging me against his massive body. I twist slightly to kiss him over my shoulder. “I’m under the awning.”

“Still, I don’t want you to get a chill.”

“I’m pregnant, Rian, not stuck in the city in eighteenth-century London. I’m not going to get consumption from the cold and wither away.”

He scowls at me. “It’s not funny. I want to make sure you’re safe and taken care of.”

I pat his face. Big, protective Rian. He’s been like this for the last year, ever since we drove away from Shane’s house and just kept on going, hour after hour, day after day. We spent a few weeks on the road, doing nothing but drifting from town to town. I ditched my phone and got a burner, and he did the same. We bought new clothes with our meager savings. We broke off whatever ties we had left back in Delco, however few of them were left, and kept on going. Through the Midwest, down into Texas, up into Phoenix, Arizona, and on into California. We thought about settling somewhere quiet and warm and dry but decided to go as far from home as we could.

That’s how we found ourselves driving along a sleepy Seattle street only to find a house for sale. A cute house, not too big, not too small, with some plants around the front. A house that needs work and love, but a house with good bones.

Rian made an offer that week and took me to the courthouse to get married the day after it was accepted. We settled as fast as we could and moved in with nothing but a suitcase and a car. That was six months ago.

He got me pregnant a week after we got our first real bed, and now I’m speeding along into the final trimester, feeling more tired each day, feeling like all I want to do is sit down and let Rian rub my feet, but even with the physical toll carrying this baby’s taking—I still love it. Every second of every day, I love waking up with my husband by my side and not thinking about the clan, not worrying about violence or pain, not doing anything but living.

“I should get going soon if I don’t want to be late.” I lean back against him, sighing. He kisses my neck.