Page 59

Six months later …

“Fuck. My ‘sister’ looks good filled with my baby.”

Her breath hitches as I band my arm around her waist.

“Shh, they might hear you!” she hisses.

I glance over my shoulder. “They’re not even here yet.”

She spins around to face me. The healthy glow in her cheeks has become a permanent fixture on her pretty face, and the thought makes my heart soar. “How do you know? You’ve spent the entire afternoon in here watching me cook.” She throws a kitchen towel over her shoulder and props a hand on her hip, emphasizing those delectable tits and her swollen stomach. At five months pregnant, she’s much bigger than predicted. The doctors have done repeat scans multiple times to be sure the dates were right, and until last week, we thought we only had one baby. Turns out, baby number two was hiding.

Twins.

I swear to Christ, I wanted a baby so much that I somehow managed to will two into play.

“I offered to help.” I shrug, and she swats at me playfully, and a loud chuckle rumbles from my chest.

“You’ve been ogling me all day.”

My lip twitches. “And filling you with my cum.”

Her cheeks glow and she nods. “And that.”

Car doors slamming have my body tightening—my family has arrived, my blood family.

“They’re here.” She releases a panicked breath, and I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. Sienna insisted on shutting the little café we run in a small village in Italy to accommodate my family visiting for the first time.

Oscar came through good with his promises. Our deaths will never be discovered, allowing us to be reborn into what we always should have been.

Using Eli’s money, I purchased us a small holding, complete with a little café on the Italian coast, a place full of local people and far enough away from tourists for me not to be worried about being seen. Oscar maintains our protection just in case suspicion is ever raised, and it allows Sienna to continue her passion in the kitchen. On days I don’t follow her around like a lost puppy, I hold boxing classes for troublesome kids at a local youth center, knowing the importance of having someone to look up to in your life, even if that is the local boxing coach.

She swipes her hands on the towel and straightens her top as she stares down at her stomach and edible tits. “Do I look big?”

“You’re pregnant.”

Her eyes narrow. “You’re not helping.”

I grin widely at her. “You’re hot. So fucking hot my cock is getting hard.” Then I place her hand on the swell of my jeans.

Eyes widening, she shakes her head. “Your mother is out there. We need to make a good impression.” She points toward the door, and I roll my eyes.

It’s not like I know the woman. I’m just following through on my promise to Oscar. I feel sure among the numerous paperwork for our new identity Mr. Personality had me sign a damn contract promising visitation rights to family in return to keeping us secret. Overbearing prick.

We head toward the door, and as we step out into the sun, I have no choice but to hold my hand up to stop the blinding light. Only when I lower my hand do I see her.

Her.

Her bright-blue eyes are full of unshed tears. Her lip wobbles and her body stills, rendering me powerless. When a choked sound comes from the man holding her hand, my gaze snaps to him.

Con.

My breath is stolen from me.

I grab onto the wall to steady my footing as my legs threaten to give way and, like a tsunami, memories hit me. One after the fucking other.

“Look, Da! Con made Keenan a boat outta wood.” Finn smiles.

“Did you draw this? It’s fucking amazing, Keenan.” Bren beams down at me.

“Look at those dimples. You’re going to break some hearts. Just like me.” Con winks.

Da turns toward Oscar and pats me on the head. “He’s as smart as you are already.”

Each memory is as brutally heart wrenching as the last.

Cal tips my chin up as a tear slides down my face. “You might be the youngest, Keenan, but you’re just as important as the oldest.”

Pain lances down my face as I struggle to comprehend the memories assaulting me.

“If you eat all your greens, you’re going to be big and strong like Bren and your da.” Ma smiles, her bright-blue eyes lighting up with pride.

“You’re a man now, you have the family insignia on you.” Da grins down at the tattoo on my bicep, and I beam back at him as my chest swells.

“So, where to once we get your wallet? I need food!” I joke toward Con, and he turns the SUV into the family warehouse.

The memory from the night I was shot has pain surging through my chest, and I stumble back, hitting the wall. My chest tightens and my vision clouds as I fall to the floor, desperately sucking in sharp breaths of air, but it’s futile. I feel like my lungs are caving in on me.

“Oh fuck, is he okay?” Footsteps race toward me, and the next thing I know, strong arms band around me, pulling me against a solid, warm chest. “Breathe. We’re here for you, brother, and we’re never letting you go. Never.” Con’s voice trembles against my ear, and I choke on emotion and a deep, harrowing sound leaves my throat. The beat of his heart against mine and his tight hold on me are feelings I never want to leave me. It feels like home.

My chest previously being crushed is now being given life again. “You’re our brother, Keenan and, fuck, we never stopped loving you.” He takes my face in his hands as we kneel on the ground and rests his forehead against mine. “A part of me died that day.” Tears spill from him openly, and his emotions bleed onto the concrete, crumbling my stone walls. “I’m sorry I let you down.” Tears stream down his reddened face. “I’m sorry I made you go into the warehouse.” He sniffles and shakes his head. “If I’d have known, I-I’d have never sent you in there to get my wallet. I swear it.” His desperate eyes search mine, imploring me with the truth.

My gut clenches at the thought of the weight of guilt he’s been carrying around with him, and I shake my head. “It’s not your fault.” I shake my head as I imagine how the course of those actions placed me right here. Where I was always meant to be, with Sienna by my side. “Don’t be sorry. I have everything I need right here. I have my family.”

He chokes and clears his throat, then swipes away the tears and snot, and looks at me with confidence oozing from him. “Today, you make us whole again, little brother. You make our family complete.”

Hearing the words I always wished for, to finally belong somewhere and feel it deep in my soul, has my mind whirling with possibilities. Or maybe they’re memories.

Our time together at a mansion.

Family dinners around a large table, with laughter filling the air.

We are all together.

As if unable to help himself, he pulls me against him until our chests collide. It’s clear I’m taller and broader than him, but in this moment, he feels like the strongest man in the world. Then he raises me up to stand beside him.

The familiar scent of my mother’s perfume has me tilting my head to see the woman who appeared in my dreams, chasing away my nightmares and filling me with hope without realizing it.

Her features are older than I remember. There’s nervousness in her eyes, more silver streaks in her signature bun, but there’s comfort there too. There always was.

“Son?” Her soft hand grazes my cheek while the other clutches her heart, as if it pains her to do so, and tears stream down her face onto the gravel. I close my eyes at the force behind her gentle touch as it strikes me in the chest, rendering me breathless.

“I’ll always help take away the pain, son,” she whispers as she tenderly lays a Band-Aid on my torn-up knee.

“Is he okay?” Con peeks his head around the doorframe, guilt coating his features. He pushed the skateboard too hard, and I flew off, hitting the ground with a nasty thud.

Ma turns to face him, and she smiles softly, then ruffles his hair. “He’ll be fine. He has his big brothers to protect him.”

Con steps into the kitchen, widens his stance, and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’ll never let anyone hurt him. Ever.”

The memory twists in my stomach, knowing how they failed so miserably, and when I find the strength to reopen my eyes, her face is full of wonderment, and her bottom lip trembles. “You’re here,” she whispers in disbelief, and I can only nod in response.

I want to tell them I was hurt, and they never came. I want to tell them I was in pain and screaming for mercy, but I see the pain reflected in their eyes. I see it and embrace it, swallowing back my own. My family are good, caring people who mourned me, and ultimately, they want me.

My dry throat is scratchy, and I clear it to speak. “I’m here, Ma.” Relief. Her face floods with relief as if she was ready to be rejected, and I hate that. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Calling her ma is familiar and natural to me, and reassurance spreads through me as my brothers create a circle around us. Their clear sign of support and protection encompasses me, creating a shudder. Her small hand entwines with mine, anchoring me with their strength.

Oscar was right; I can trust them. They’re here for me.

They’re family.

Every ounce of feeling like never belonging slips from me in the blink of an eye.

And like that, I’m home.

Their light has led me through the darkness, bringing us together.

The hell, the torture, every nightmare I ever endured, has brought me to this moment.

But as Sienna’s teary smile catches my eye, I know I wouldn’t change a damn thing about how I got here.

“Sometimes, we have to search inside us and follow the beat of our heart. If you listen hard enough, it can guide us home.”

THE END