Skeletons of Us (Unquiet Mind Book 2) (33 page)

I nodded, blinking the tears out of my eyes.

His face went back to the bad-ass biker look, like he hadn’t just been talking of lost loves. “Good. Time to party.”

And party we did. Sam, Noah, and Wyatt had even turned up. The scantily clad girls who I’d been trying my best to ignore had swarmed them the moment they got there.

I hadn’t relished watching that, despite feeling warm in the presence of the family I’d sorely missed.

Seeming to sense my emotions, Killian’s arms had circled my hips, pulling me back into his chest. “Want to go home, so I can finally fuck you senseless like I’ve been craving all night?” he murmured in my ear.

My stomach dipped. “Yeah,” I whispered, my voice husky.

I’d thought “home” meant Mom and Zane’s place. I was too wrapped up in desire to realize how not okay that would be. Not because there wasn’t room, there was. Zane had gotten another couple of rooms built onto our house when it became apparent they’d need something bigger and Mom had refused to move. She had too many memories here, she said. Both good and bad, but she wouldn’t lightly say good-bye to the good just because of the bad. And because Zane would tattoo his face if Mom asked it, he built rooms so we had another family room and Rocko’s room. The nursery was upstairs in the old study, next to Mom and Zane’s. Mine was still downstairs off the kitchen. But I didn’t feel comfortable sleeping in it with Killian.

So I had been both relieved and confused when he pulled up to the house after we left the club. His childhood home. I’d raised a brow after we hopped off the bike and he starting dragging me down the front walk. “We’re staying here? With your mom?” To say Killian didn’t like his mom was an understatement. Not that I blamed him, she was an evil shrew.

His jaw went hard and his face blank. “She died last year,” he said, voice flat.

I froze and my smile disappeared. “What?”

He shrugged. “Overdose. Wasn’t exactly a surprise.”

I moved my hand to cup his cheek. “I’m so sorry, Kill,” I whispered, my heart bleeding.

“She wasn’t anyone to me, freckles,” he dismissed.

“She was your mom,” I replied firmly. He was trying to hide it behind this new hard exterior, but I could see the pain. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.”

He drew me to him. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.”

He pulled me in gently and took us inside. All evidence of his mom was gone. The ratty furniture had all been replaced with leather sofas and lazy boys. An array of man toys was scattered around the place, and it was obvious a bachelor lived here. Despite that, there was nothing in the place that had any personality. That made it a home.

I stood in the middle of the room, frowning. “I don’t like this,” I declared.

Killian crossed his arms, watching me. “What’s that?” he asked, voice guarded.

“That you don’t have a home. A sanctuary. This is just a place you rest your head, drink your beers,” I said, meeting his eyes. “You deserve a sanctuary.”

He was across the room in seconds and I was pulled to his body.

“Sanctuary’s not a place. It’s not something you build from bricks and mortar. I’ve got my sanctuary, freckles
. It’s in my arms. Finally, after four fuckin’ years,” he murmured. His eyes searched mine. “I didn’t miss you just because I loved you
, because you are my soul, or because livin’ without seeing your smile or hearing you sing was a physical hurt that Hades himself couldn’t even reproduce in torture. No, they were parts of it. Big parts. I missed you because you’re my sanctuary. Because you were the oasis in the middle of the wastelands that my life was before you entered it. I plan on livin’ in this sanctuary for the rest of my life.”

I blinked at him. “Wow,” I whispered.

He grinned against my mouth. “You’re a girl who writes some of the most famous and beautiful songs in the world and ‘wow’ is the best you can do?”

“It’s the only thing I can do,” I told him. “I don’t think I’ll be able to find the words that form the right response to that.” My hand moved underneath his tee, running over the ridges of his abs then downward to dip into his jeans. Killian hardened in my hands. “I guess I’ll just have to show you,” I whispered.

Killian sucked in a breath. “I’m not averse to that, freckles,” he rasped.

*****

We were lying in bed after Killian had made furious, intense love to me. Twice.

I was stroking the tattoo over his chest, transfixed by it. “What if we never got back together? What if you had to live the rest of your life with my name on your chest?” I whispered.

Killian’s arms tightened. “Would have lived the rest of my life with your name on the inside of my chest, baby. Outside doesn’t make a difference.” He paused and my heart beat just a little quicker. “Plus, there’s no way I would have been able to live the rest of my life without you.”

I gazed at him. “Me neither,” I admitted. I’d lived four years with the same hurt. They said time healed everything. Time hadn’t healed a thing for me. My heart had been just as broken two weeks ago as it had four years ago. And then, it had rapidly healed, like time was nothing. It was still delicate, not completely whole, but I was hopeful. I was happy.

Maybe time didn’t heal. Time could hurt.

Easy silence descended once more.

“Did you love him?” Killian asked suddenly, his voice granite.

I glanced up. “Who?”

“The man you buried two months ago.”

I jerked at the mention of Drew, at the edge to Killian’s voice, at the vulnerability that hid behind those eyes.

“You’re seriously asking me that?”

Killian didn’t respond, just kept staring.

“You’re seriously asking me that,” I muttered. “We’re really going to talk about past lovers now?” I asked.

Killian’s body turned to total stone at my words. “Lovers?” he gritted out.

I pushed up. “Did you actually think I’d stay chaste on some far off hope that I’d be back here?” I asked, my voice dangerous. “Are you saying you did?”

The silence and the look on Killian’s face answered my question. With great effort, I breathed through the pain that came with this and continued. “Four years, Killian. I was hurting in those years. Bleeding. All I thought about was you. But that didn’t mean I didn’t practice self-preservation. That I didn’t at least try and find a way to get over you,” I continued. I didn’t add that the couple of men I’d slept with, including Drew, had left me feeling empty and almost more heartbroken than before. That I felt dirty and tainted like I’d somehow betrayed Killian. It wasn’t logical, but love never was.

“The thought of you with anyone else makes me want to kill someone,” he rasped.

“Well, Drew’s already dead,” I declared curtly.

He flinched and his face softened. “Shit, sorry, baby.” He stroked my hair. “You cared about him?” It sounded like the words were physically painful for him to say.

I gave him a look. “Not one single bit.”

His face cleared of anger and confusion replaced it.

“Drew was a dick,” I said simply. “Egotistical, arrogant, and dumber than a box of rocks. There was no way I could ever care about him more than another human cares about another human. I was with him because of that fact, Killian. Because my heart was never in danger with someone like him,” I explained.

“Fuck,” Killian muttered after a long silence. “I’ve got a fuck of a lot to answer to, baby, for this shit.”

I tilted his head up. “No, you were right. I let myself forget about everything we had. Two years gone with just one conversation.” I paused. “We need to stop living in the past. If this is going to work, it’s got to be fresh. We can’t let the demons of yesterday fuck up our tomorrow.”

Plus, I had to escape this conversation. I couldn’t have the thought of him with other women lurking in my mind. It would wiggle in there and destroy me.

Killian kissed me. “I’m not gonna let anything fuck this up, freckles,” he promised.

*****

“He’s so tiny,” I whispered, stroking one of the tiny feet in the bassinet.

“Yeah, he won’t stay that way for long, not with Zane’s genes,” Mom said from beside me. “My boys will be taller than me by the time they’re in middle school, mark my words.” Her eyes were full of love for Axel. Yes, my two tiny, squidgy, cute brothers both had names that belonged to bounty hunters who spent their days lifting iron and pummeling infidels.

I reached out and squeezed her hand. “You and Zane did good with him and Rocko.”

Mom tore her eyes from her newest baby boy to focus on me. “I did good too, I think, with my firstborn. I’m so proud of you, baby.”

I blinked away the tears. “Yeah, ditto.”

Mom’s eyes went hard and she looked back down at her sleeping baby. It was his first night at home since being in the hospital for three nights. “It scares you, you know, looking down at this tiny thing that you love more than anything in the world and you realize how vulnerable it is. How the possibility of anyone hurting that beautiful thing you’ve created is the most terrifying thought your mind could conjure up.” She looked up to me again. “And then they grow bigger, stronger, less vulnerable. But that fear doesn’t go away. Because no matter how big they grow, they’ll always be that tiny baby that takes up every inch of your heart.” She paused. “Watching you go through that heartbreak four years ago, dollface, it almost killed me. It was worse because there was not a single thing I could do to help, to make you better. For a mom, being helpless in the face of your baby’s pain is probably the worst thing ever.”

“Mom—” I protested.

She held up her hand. “Let me say this, doll. It was worse not seeing you in pain, but seeing your light shine a little dimmer. Seeing you use every inch of your strength to try and hide the way you were broken.” She sucked in a breath. “I wanted to kill that boy. Seriously, I daydreamed of various ways I could do it without getting caught. Icepicks seemed the best way to go. Or acid.”

“Mom, you do realize you’re talking murder in front of your three-day-old child?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Mom waved her hand. “Zane’s his father. I’m sure his little baby head was born with various ways to subdue attackers and dismantle a Berretta,” she dismissed. Her face went serious. “Thing is, I’m so conflicted. Because for the first time in four years, my baby’s got light back in her eyes and she isn’t using all her effort to pretend to be happy. She just
is
. And it’s because of him. The one who took away the light in the first place.” She was frowning now.

“Mom—” I tried to explain again.

“You’re a big girl now, and I know things are never as simple as they look from the outside. So I trust you to make the right decision, to know what you’re doing. Because you’re happy, I’ll shelf my murder plots.” Her hand went to my cheek. “But just know, you’re always gonna be my little baby.” She pulled me in for a quick hug and kissed my head. “Phew,” she breathed. “Heart to hearts are exhausting. As is popping a baby out. I’m gonna catch some Z’s before this one wakes up again.” She nodded her head to Axel.

“Okay, Mom, I’m gonna stay here for a bit longer.”

“All right, don’t stay up too late. Though I’m betting Killian will drag you out of here when he gets back. The boy seems very interested in making sure you get your eight hours,” she teased lightly.

I blushed, thinking of the way Killian had taken me against the door in the club earlier today, about how much I craved him, even now.

“Do you think they’re in some sort of death match?” Mom asked, oblivious to what was going on in my head. Thank God.

“Who? What?”

She tilted her head. “Zane and Killian, they’ve been gone for a while. Should we be worried?”

I shook my head. “Doubtful. Zane has seemed to be the forgiving one in this situation,” I said. “Which blows my mind. He’s nicer to Killian than he ever was in high school.”

Mom stroked my cheek. “That’s because Zane’s a big softie when it comes to his girl. All he wants is for you to be happy and protected. Killian gives you both of those things. It’s as simple as that to him.”

I thought about it. “Yeah, I think it’s as simple as that to me too.”

Mom gave me a long look then smiled. “See you in the morning, baby girl.”

“Love you, Mom,” I told her.

“To the moon.”

I stood there at the edge of Axel’s crib, looking at his little chest rise and fall while my thoughts fluttered around the past three days. Around the newly reconciled Killian and me. Like nothing had changed. And also somehow like everything had changed. We knew every inch of one another yet we were also strangers, each of us taking different roads in life that changed us while heartbreak chipped away and distorted those two teenagers we used to be.

Axel fussed a little, bringing me back into the present.

I put my hand lightly on his chest. “Shh, baby,” I murmured.

I was mindful of the fact Mom had had little to no sleep since he was born and no doubt she’d be in here the second he started to cry. After grabbing my guitar, I dragged the rocking chair over to the bassinet. Rocko had been a rambunctious baby since he was born and that meant he wasn’t too interested in sleeping. One thing that had calmed him was me playing to him. Even now, as soon as I got my guitar out, he sat in front of me, sucking his thumb, still and silent until I finished. Of course, as soon as I put the guitar down, he was up and whizzing around the room.

My brothers had unquiet minds too, I suspected.

My fingers ran along the strings of my guitar and I started to sing “Danny’s Song,” by Kenny Loggins. I got so lost in the song I didn’t even notice the audience I had.