Page 141 of King of Pain

He looks down at my hand covering his, and my heart sinks when he moves—until I realize he’s shifting his hand so he can squeeze mine. Just holds it there, grounding me. My heart jumps into my throat, and for a moment, I just stare at our connected hands. His fingers aren’t linked with mine, but after three years, I’ll take it.

I inhale and press on. “The leader of the Black Crows, Ronan Kelly, was very close with my dad. He wasn’t just going to let this go.”

Ant’s brows pull together as he searches my face. “But he killed your mother, Chance. How could this Ronan guy fault you?”

I scoff, a humorless sound. “He’s old guard Irish mob, Ant. If he cared at all about my mother, he would’ve put my father in the ground himself years ago. There are a lot of organizational heads that draw the line at violence against women. Ronan? He cared more about the men in his organization. They could do whatever they wanted. Now, if someone outside of the organization touched her, he’d have their blood. But his men could beat their wives, and he turned a blind eye.”

A flicker of understanding crosses Ant’s face, but I can still see the residual anger burning in his eyes. He doesn’t press, just nods once.

“It wasn’t just Ronan I had to worry about either,” I tell him. “By the time I got back to Boston, the cops under his command had already covered up what he’d done. I knew that when I made John Sullivan disappear, they’d be after me too.” I exhale, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “A lot of the guys in his precinct are Crows, Ant. I wasn’t just up against one man—I was up against an entire network.”

“Jesus, Chance.”

I shake my head, running a hand through my hair. “After meeting with Murph and working out all the details, well, you know what happened next.”

Ant gulps, nodding slowly. “Go on.”

I close my eyes for a second, steadying myself. When I open them again, I meet his gaze. “All you need to know is I watched that miserable fuck gasp his last breath.”

Ant’s fingers tighten around my hand.

I force myself to keep my expression neutral. “I’m not ready to share the details of that night with you. I don’t know if I ever will be. I’ve had to relive it in my head every night since. I don’t want you to see the monster inside me.”

That’s the thought that makes me break.

The weight of everything crashes down at once. Three years of guilt, grief, and exhaustion pressing so hard on my chest I can’t breathe. My shoulders shake, and before I can manage to hold it in, I let out a guttural sob.

Ant scrambles closer, pulling me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me. He grips me tight, his hand running up and down my back, his breath warm against my hair.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs. “You’re okay now. Let it out.” His arms squeeze around me, anchoring me to him. “You’re not a monster, Chance.”

I reluctantly release from his hold and grab my drink from the coffee table. “I do feel like a monster, Ant,” I admit softly. “The pain that man inflicted on me as a child came roaring back after Ma’s murder—it awakened something in me. A darkness I never knew I was capable of.” I shake my head, staring at the tequila in my glass like it will save me from what I have to say next. “And on top of that, I abandoned you. I abandoned Guinness. I left you to grieve alone, and that… that’s something I don’t know if I can ever make up for.”

Ant shifts closer, his hand coming to rest on my knee again, his thumb rubbing slow, comforting circles over my jeans. “You are not a monster,” he repeats firmly, his hazel eyes looking straight through mine. “You did what you had to do. You survived. You protected me. And you made sure your mother got justice when no one else would. None of that makes you a monster, Chance.” His voice softens. “And I don’t see you any differently.”

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment, letting his words settle in a place deep inside me that’s been frozen for three years. I don’t deserve his kindness. I don’t deserve his touch. And yet, here he is.

Ant sighs. “Tell me the rest.”

I take another drink and nod. “My assessment that Ronan and the cops would suspect me as soon as my father went missing was right. Word had already gotten around that I was back in town, even though I’d been careful.” I let out a bitter laugh. “Not careful enough, I guess.”

“They moved quickly to get you out of there?” Ant asks.

“Yeah,” I nod. “Murph and the others arranged for me to disappear to an undisclosed location.”

Ant studies me. “Where did they take you?”

“A cabin. It’s one of our safe houses,” I say simply.

He swallows thickly. “And you didn’t get another phone?”

I shake my head. “I only had a burner. It was strictly for receiving messages about drop-offs—food, essentials… art supplies.”

Ant flinches slightly, his fingers tightening around his own glass. His voice is quiet when he asks, “So you painted all those in the cabin?”

I nod. “Aside from working on upkeep of the place, that’s all I did.” I laugh through a sniffle. “And those aren’t even all ofthem. Painting your beautiful face was the only thing that kept me sane.”

A tear slides down Ant’s cheek, but he quickly wipes it away. “How were you able to leave the cabin?”