Almost Innocent (8 page)

Dec’s hand landed on my back. “Relax, it’s just my dad. He’ll drive you home.”

As the ugly box-shaped car rolled to a stop in front of us, I realized it was a Mercedes. The door opened, and as an older man stepped out, my breath caught.

I hadn’t learned much about the Callaghans in the last few months. Even with all of our combined history, I felt clueless. But I knew they were rich. The kind of rich where their grandchildren’s grandchildren would be set for life.

No one knew exactly where their money came from. If I believed my mom, which I didn’t, the Callaghans were Maine mobsters, doing everything from running illegal gambling, to loan sharking, to being the biggest drug dealers the northeast had ever seen. Yet they never had any problems with the police. And the people in town protected them.

My dad had been their hired muscle. I’d never really gotten a clear definition of what that meant or what exactly he’d done. He’d never explained, always telling me that one day we’d talk about it. That day never came. When I was ten, there was a riot at the prison where he was doing his time, and he didn’t make it. He’d only had a hundred sixty-two days left to go.

Not long after his death, two men in black suits knocked on our apartment door. My mom was passed out, unable to climb out of the bottle even to say good-bye to the man she claimed to love. One of the men got very angry, breaking down the bedroom door and hauling my mother out of her bed.

The other stepped in front of me then crouched, blocking out the rest of the world, and looked me in the eyes. “You have nothing to be scared of, I promise. I need you to be brave and go pack a bag, little one. I’m going to take you to your grandma’s.” He reached out slowly, as if he was almost afraid to touch me, and ran a fingertip down the bridge of my nose. The way my daddy always had to calm me. It brought tears to my eyes.

I’d been relieved. And terrified. I didn’t know the man, but his dark blue eyes were kind, and he kept talking about my gram as if he knew her. I did what he asked, and in no time at all, we were on a plane headed for New Hampshire and my mom’s mom. I hadn’t seen my mom since.

Life with Gram wasn’t great, but it was better than I had expected. Better than things would have been with the woman who gave birth to me. We lived in a tiny three-room apartment, but the man who dropped me off came and checked on me often. He never told me his name, but he was nice to me, even though my grandmother seemed afraid of him. He always called me “Little One,” never Gabby, and he always cupped my cheek and ran a finger down my nose the way my father had.

When Gram got sick, the man with the kind blue eyes came to the hospital to get me. Only he wasn’t alone. This time, he was flanked by six men in fancy suits. As they filed into the waiting room, everyone else stood and left abruptly, as if obeying a silent order. With a single nod from the kind man, his guards left too.

Settling into the uncomfortable chair next to me, he gripped my hand. “I’m going to need you to be brave, Little One.”

I didn’t want to be brave anymore. I just wanted to go home, with Gram, and pretend this was a nightmare. I couldn’t though, because I knew Gram wasn’t going to make it.

“I’m not little anymore,” I snapped, needing to lash out.

He only smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re not. You’re almost grown up. But your dad always called you his Little One, so that’s what you will always be to me.”

I didn’t argue. He stayed with me while I said good-bye to my gram, and he held me while she took her last breath. Then he picked me up, as if I weighed nothing at all, and carried me to the car. He drove me back to Gram’s, just him and one of the six goons who followed him everywhere, and he helped me pack my things. Then we drove straight to Watertown, right to the Fortes’.

I didn’t really know my dad’s parents. He’d talked about them often, but I’d only met them once or twice. They didn’t like my mom, understandably so. But the man with the kind eyes had promised they’d be good to me and that he’d check in.

Before he left, he cupped my cheek, ran the tip of his finger down my nose, and said, “I’ll see you soon, Little One.”

That had been almost five months ago, at the end of June, and I hadn’t seen him since. Until now.

His smile faltered, for just a second, when he saw me standing with his son. As if sensing something was wrong, Dec stepped closer to me. I heard the front door slam, and I knew within moments, Dustin would be out here too. Declan’s hand never left my back. Instead, he fisted a section of my shirt as if to hold on to me.

Mr. Callaghan headed straight for us. “Declan, who is your friend?” he asked, as if I were a stranger he’d never set eyes on.

My mouth fell open slightly, and I stared at him.

“This is Gabby, Dad,” Dustin answered before Dec or I could say anything.

Mr. Callaghan masked his surprise well.

“And Gabby isn’t feeling well,” Declan inserted. “Can you give her a ride home?”

Dustin stepped toward me. “I’ll take her.”

I felt my body stiffen at his words. Dec must have felt it; he was too close not to.

“No.” Mr. Callaghan’s voice was stern when he turned to his oldest son. “I’ll take her. After that shit you pulled today, you think you have car privileges?”

Dustin laughed bitterly. “It’s my car.”

Wrong thing to say. Mr. Callaghan turned on his son, his face hardening into a murderous glare, and I leaned back into Declan, afraid.

“We will talk about this later,” Mr. Callaghan ground out. His eyes moved to me. “Get in the car, Little One. Declan, you too.”

I almost couldn’t move, but Dec pushed me forward then opened the passenger door for me. “Little One?” he mumbled as he climbed into the back. “I like it. Little Gabby. Nah, Little G.” He chuckled. “That’s what I’m gonna call you. It’s perfect!”

I tried to force myself to relax, but my mind was in overdrive. Not only had my boyfriend struck me, but his father turned out to be the man who had been taking care of me for years. And he’d had Declan ride with us so I couldn’t ask him about it. I hadn’t felt so lost or confused in a long time.

As if reading my thoughts, Dec leaned forward, putting his hand on my shoulder. “We’re friends, right, Gabby?”

The question surprised me, and I turned to stare at him, nodding.

“I’m here,” he said. “Just so you know. Whenever you need me. I’m here.”

I opened my eyes, staring at my ceiling. That had been such a screwed up day, but it was just the preface of what a tangled mess my life would eventually become. Yet somehow I was still clinging to the promise a fifteen-year-old boy had made me twenty-one years earlier.

I
turned
into my driveway so fast I almost sideswiped the gate, then I gunned the engine, slamming on the brakes at the last minute, so I didn’t collide with my brother’s Jeep. Leaving my car door open, I raced into the house and up the stairs, then I threw my weight against the door to Dustin’s room.

Just as the gunshot echoed throughout the house, shaking the walls as if an earthquake had hit.

His room was destroyed, furniture broken and scattered around, holes in the walls, the floor covered in debris. The scent of blood hit me like a freight train. The taste of copper invaded my mouth, almost as if it was me who had been wounded, and I stumbled backward as my eyes moved over the room, desperate to find her. The closet door was flung open, hanging from only the bottom hinge.

On the floor, just inside the closet, was a man, weeping. He clutched something in his arms as he rocked back and forth, sharp wails of pain seeping from his body.

No! No. I raced to them, fell to the floor at her feet, climbed up her legs, and shoved the trembling mass away from her. Her eyes were still open, yet there was no life left in them. One of her hands hung limply at her side while the other was curled over her rounded belly, almost protectively. Fuck, no!

I sank onto my knees next to her, pulling her up to me and burying my face in her neck. Not my Gabby. She couldn’t be gone! Without her, I had no reason to breathe.

Despair filled every part of me as I clung to the woman I loved, desperate to rewind the clock and get her back. Just for a few more minutes. Just to tell her how much she mattered to me.

“She’s gone. She’ll never be yours,” the sinister voice I’d grown to hate goaded. “She always thought she was never good enough for you.” He barked out a psychotic laugh. “You. Bitch was never good enough for me.”

Without moving away from her, because I couldn’t physically let go yet, I yanked my Desert Eagle from its holster and aimed at my brother. “You were never fucking good enough for her.” I pulled the trigger without a single regret. “She’ll never be yours.”

The look on Dustin’s face was one of betrayal and surprise. I didn’t know why he felt either. My loyalty to him died the day he’d discovered I was in love with his girlfriend and decided to punish her for my mistakes. He’d been there when I stole the life from perfectly healthy and decent men, so it shouldn’t be a shock that I’d relieved his black soul from his diseased, evil existence. He flopped over to the side dramatically as I returned my attention to the woman who was my everything.

“I’m so fucking sorry, baby,” I whispered, holding her tight one last time.

A phone rang across the room, but I couldn’t move away from the woman in my arms. I cradled her head against my chest, begging God and all of the saints to grant me a miracle. I’d give my life for hers. I willed my strength into her body.

It didn’t work.

The phone rang again, this time with a commotion behind me. I snapped my head to the right, a predatory growl on my lips, daring whoever had come into the room to try to rip her from my arms. The sight of my cousin, standing just inside the door, caused rage to boil out of me.

I wouldn’t leave her for anything. Except revenge. Pressing my lips to her still warm forehead, I laid her back gently and faced the man I’d trusted above all others.

I stalked toward him, gun drawn. “Where the fuck were you?”

Mark narrowed his eyes at me but was smart enough to step back.

“I told you to watch her. I told you to protect her.”

My best friend raised his chin defiantly, as if the love of my life wasn’t lying behind me and growing cold. “I don’t take orders from you, kid. She wasn’t yours.”

The pain that hurtled through my body was unlike any I’d ever felt, burning a path from my mind to my stomach as realization dawned. He’d known. The fucker had known and hadn’t lifted a fucking finger to stop it.

Loss—not just from Gabby, but knowing the man I’d loved as a brother was now gone—mixed with the bitter taste of betrayal and swirled in my stomach. I could finally see the man Mark had become. I hated him. He may not have pulled the trigger, but he was just as responsible for Gabby’s death as Dustin.

I lifted my arm without aiming and unloaded the magazine into him.

I sat up, gasping for air and clutching at the blanket that covered me. It was just a dream, I told myself. Just a dream. I moved quickly, throwing my legs over the side of the bed, leaning my elbows on my knees, and clutching my head.

Just a dream.

I’d had it often over the years. At first, it was every damn night, and I’d wake up just to make sure that Gabby really was breathing next to me. After I went away, the dream came less frequently—usually after I’d gotten a report from Niall or a letter from Gabs. Each time, it destroyed me. The woman got under my skin and fucked with my mind.

It was always the same. It always left me with the same unease and a dangerous and undeserved anger toward Mark.

I knew I was seeing the alternate reality. The world that would have existed if things hadn’t worked out the way they had. It didn’t hurt any less.

I would have killed them all—starting with Dustin and Mark, moving to my mother, and ending with my father. I would have made the last two beg for mercy, then I would have executed them. None of them deserved to live. I would have enjoyed butchering them, blood or not.

My phone rang, snagging my attention and distracting me momentarily. I grabbed it from the nightstand, needing to silence the noise, and saw Mark’s name flashing across my screen.

“What?” I snapped, not caring how I sounded or that I was pissed off at him for something he hadn’t actually done. Separating the dream from reality was harder than it should have been.

My cousin was used to my moods and rolled with it. “It’s taken care of.”

I gripped my phone so hard I thought I might break it. I’d forgotten all about the fucking car that had followed us earlier. “Who was it?”

“That chick from this morning? Ron’s girl? Her brothers.”

I almost laughed at that. They had some balls, coming after me. They had an issue with the way things were, then they should have taken it up with Ron while he’d been alive. I was half impressed though. If Gabby hadn’t been with me, I might have actually offered the idiots a job.

“They looking for me or for Ron?”

“Both.” He took a long drag off his cigarette. “It took a little to drag it outta them, but you coulda handled it yourself.”

The question was veiled, but it was there. He wanted to know where in the hell I was and what was so important that I couldn’t take care of my own shit. I didn’t want to deal with him right now though. Not in the middle of the night, and not when dream Mark’s treachery was so fresh in my mind. I ignored it instead. “They set straight now?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” I hung up, knowing there was nothing else to say and not wanting to hear his voice anymore. I’d answer his questions later, but right now I needed quiet.

I glanced around the guest room, realizing how much it looked like my sister. Welcoming, warm, and homey—all the things Fi had always been. The pictures on the bureau made me stand and shuffle across the room. One by one, I lifted them, squinting at the faces in the moonlight.

The first was of Fiona, Dustin, and me when we were young. I was maybe four, Dustin around seven, and Fi a preteen. We looked happy, all grinning at the camera, Fi between Dusty and I, hugging us tight, protecting us the way a big sister should. I hadn’t seen those kids in a really long time—hell, I’d forgotten them.

The next was the three of us again, this time at Fi’s high school graduation. Dustin was in eighth grade and had just started gaining his height. He was beaming at the camera, excited because he’d be a freshman in the fall. He stood between Fi and a small, shy eleven-year-old me, hands around our shoulders, making it known that he was the one in charge. We looked like a happy family.

How had everything changed so quickly? How had Dustin gone from a funny and protective big brother to a selfish prick in just a few short years? When I thought of my brother, I didn’t think of him as the kid in the picture. It didn’t matter that he was the brother I’d known for most of my life—I would always remember the evil man he’d turned into. I slammed the frame down, disgusted.

The third photo was at Fiona’s college graduation. This time, Gabby had joined us. It may have been Fi’s big day, but Gabby’s image was the one that drew my attention—breathtaking even at fifteen. And even then, I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

She was standing next to Fi, both smiling at my mom behind the lens. Dustin though had his lips twisted in a scowl, a thick line between his eyes, his hand wrapped possessively around Gabby’s waist, fingers digging into her side. I’d ignored the camera completely, opting instead to stare at the beautiful girl next to my sister. My hand was clenched in a fist.

Instantly, I was back in that stadium.

“Hey! Where’d you get that from?” I grabbed Gabby’s wrist, yanking her entire arm onto my lap, and pushed up the thin summer sweater that was half hiding the giant bruise around her wrist.

“Stop!” she whispered harshly, pushing my hand away and yanking the gray cotton back down. “It’s nothing.”

I pulled her wrist closer, frowning. “Doesn’t look like nothing.”

I didn’t miss the way her eyes slid to Dustin or the way he’d suddenly become interested in us from his seat at the end of our row. God knew why, but my father had ushered Gabby into the aisle after me and stepped in behind her so that Dustin couldn’t sit next to his girlfriend. I was in seventh heaven, having her to myself.

She turned back to me, eyes pleading. “It’s nothing, Dec. Really.”

The commencement speech faded into the background as my pulse roared in my ears and my blood boiled. Without caring who saw, I grabbed Gabby’s chin and stared into her eyes. “Did he hurt you?”

Shame filled her eyes. “It’s not what you think, okay?” She tried to turn away, but I held tight. She sighed and met my eyes again. “Declan.”

The way she said my name as if she was pleading with me, went straight to my heart. She didn’t want to tell me. Whatever had happened, she didn’t want me to know.

“What did he do?” I bit out harshly, making my father turn his attention to us and scowl a warning.

Gabby swallowed. “He didn’t…” Her forehead wrinkled as if she was searching for the words, but she didn’t take her eyes off mine. “He got a little rough last night,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’s nothing.”

I dropped her chin. The meaning of her words hit me like a kick in the nuts. I wished she’d done the latter because it would have hurt less.

Most days I tried to pretend they weren’t dating. She spent most of her time with me anyway. We studied together, enjoyed the same shows and movies, and listened to the same music. Half the time when she was at our house, which was all the time, Dustin was gone and she was with me. It was easy to convince myself that she was Gabby, Declan’s best friend. Not Gabby, Dustin’s girlfriend.

I hated the idea of him putting his mouth on her. I knew they’d kissed, and I’d heard him tell his friends that she liked to play hard to get. Normally that would have him running away as fast as he could, but with her, it gave him a challenge. I’d caught them making out a few times, and I’d forced down the hate I felt toward him at those moments.

I wasn’t stupid enough to think he didn’t fuck everything that acted interested, and neither was Gabby. So I’d just assumed they hadn’t crossed that line yet. I wanted to retreat back to the land of oblivion.

I swallowed roughly and turned back to the speaker, trying to hear the story he was rambling on about, my hands fisted at my sides. Gabby covered one of my hands with her own, prying my fingers open and settling her palm into mine. I stiffened, not sure what in the hell she was doing.

She’d just admitted that she’d fucked Dusty, and he’d marked her when he got a “little rough.” Why in the hell would she hold my hand now? I wasn’t sloppy seconds, especially to the disgusting pig that was my brother. I wanted to rip it away, but at the same time, I craved her touch.

She sat forward, never removing her hand, and stood slightly to adjust herself in the hard folding chair. When she sat back down, she scooted closer to me, shoulder to shoulder, her thigh pushing into mine. I didn’t look at her, staring forward instead.

“Thank you,” she breathed into my ear. “For being the best friend I’ve ever had.” Her hand squeezed mine.

I moved my head slightly, just enough to see her, and the scent of strawberry shampoo invaded my nostrils. I was overcome by the urge to yank her onto my lap and wrap my arms around her and hold her close. Instead, I gripped her hand. “I don’t like him.”

Gabby smirked and raised an eyebrow as if she didn’t believe me. “He’s your brother.”

“He’s a careless prick who hurts you.”

“He doesn’t mean to. He just gets carried away.”

Wrong answer. He was a sadistic fuck. I would never hurt her. “Next time he does, you tell me.”

Her features contorted into a look that clearly told me she thought I’d lost my mind.

My dad chose that moment to slide his arm on the back of Gabby’s chair and push his fingers into my shoulder, as if telling me to move over. I snapped my eyes to his, matching his scowl, not budging. When I didn’t take the hint, his fingers danced to Gabby’s shoulder, and he pulled her away from me, toward the other side of her chair.

The message was clear. She was my brother’s girlfriend, not mine. Colin Callaghan wanted me to back off.

Fuck him.

Gabby didn’t let go of my hand, and I clung to hers until after the ceremony was over and my mother pulled us out of the audience to go find my sister. For the rest of the day, Dustin glared at me. Whenever I tried to talk to Gabby, he inserted himself between us or dragged her off.