I only made it to noon before I was practically twitching to get back to Rowan. Her father was home with her, and I was confident his security detail could manage one morning. No one even knew we were back in the city. Yet the need to be near her sank its claws in deep and wouldn’t let go.
When I finally caved and returned to the Alexander home, a haggard Evan answered the door. I hoped he and Rowan hadn’t fought. I suspected me beating the shit out of him would stunt the progress I’d begun to make with my new bride.
Rowan wasn’t anywhere to be seen, so I decided to seize the opportunity and have a private word with her father.
“Rowan told me about her sister.” I decided to dive right in. No reason to dance around the matter. “I had no idea she had a twin.”
He froze briefly midway through bolting the door. “It’s not easy to talk about. I’m surprised she mentioned Ivy at all.” His voice was laden with a profound weariness.
“She didn’t mention her so much as have a breakdown.” I wanted him to know that Rowan was suffering. It was about damn time they faced that fact.
Alexander placed a hand on the entry console to brace himself. “What happened?”
“Finding that girl over at the Wellingtons’ seems to have brought her grief and fears to the surface. How bad did she struggle after it first happened?”
“Rowan’s a tough one. We’d hear her cry at night, but otherwise, she handled it with such strength.”
I’d been afraid of that.
Anger pricked under my skin. “No six-year-old is that strong, Evan. Did you talk to her about it? See how she was coping?”
His eyes narrowed. “Talking about it wasn’t easy. I lost a daughter, too, you know,” he shot back at me. “And besides, Rowan coped just fine. She grew into an incredible young woman.”
“No, she crammed herself into a mold to suit your expectations in a desperate attempt not to disappoint you. There’s a fucking difference.” My tone edged on hostile. I took a slow breath to calm myself. “Tell me you at least sent her to a grief counselor.”
His defiant glare was his only response.
“Jesus, Alexander. Don’t tell me you have no clue how much pain your daughter lives with every goddamn day. Why do you think she was even dating Wellington’s son? Because she loved that asswipe? Not a chance. She was doing it for you. She’s so messed up that she doesn’t even know who she is. She’s only ever let herself be who she thinks she’s supposed to be.” It was harsh, but someone needed to quit sugar-coating the truth.
His entire body flinched. “That can’t be. I would have known …”
“Would you? Or did you see what you wanted to see? That is, when your ambitions occupied your complete focus.”
His gaze lifted. I expected to feel the stab of an angry glare but saw only contrition in his mournful brown eyes. He studied me for a moment, head tilting to the side. “You care about her, don’t you?”
The wonder in his voice pissed me off. I held up my hand to display the ring tattooed on my finger. “I don’t marry just anyone, regardless of what you may think of me,” I growled. “I don’t know what you thought this was, but I take my oaths seriously.”
His shoulders deflated further until he began to look like a husk of the man I’d first met. “I tried my best, you know. It wasn’t easy,” he said softly.
I could understand those early weeks and months had to have been hell, but over fifteen years had gone by since then. I had trouble overlooking the fact that he’d never once during those years taken a deep enough look at his daughter to see how badly she was suffering.
“I’m not the one who’s owed an explanation,” I said grimly.
Alexander lifted his eyes to mine and gave a single nod. “Are you taking her with you now?”
“I am.”
He nodded again. “I assume she’s up in her room.”
He didn’t need to say any more. Our conversation was over.
I walked past him to the stairs, taking them two at a time. To the left of the landing, I could see into a large masculine office. To the right, a bathroom and two closed doors. Choosing randomly, I opened the door on the left to discover a little girl’s room painted green and left perfectly intact as though waiting for her return.
My stomach twisted with revulsion.
Christ, it was no wonder they hadn’t moved on. The loss was still there, a gaping wound to remind them of their pain every damn day. And right across from the morbid memorial had to be Rowan’s room. She was forced to see that permanently abandoned shrine every day she’d lived in this house.
Shaking my head, I closed the door and walked across the hall. I knocked gently on the door, then opened it when I got no answer. Her room was a pale gray. Tidy. It had been left alone as well, and unlike other rooms occupied by teenage girls, hers held no corkboard full of photos with friends, no ticket stubs or band posters. The room was an empty shell, just like the girl who’d occupied it.
Not anymore.
I’d find a way to breathe so much life back into her that sorrow had no place left to linger.
I closed the door behind me and went back downstairs, finding Alexander with his head in his hands at the kitchen bar.
“She’s not in her room. Where else could she be?”
His head shot up, brows knitting together. “Not there? I don’t know where else …” His eyes clenched shut with realization, sending a jolt of trepidation shooting down my spine.
“What is it?”
“Today is the anniversary of Ivy’s passing.” When he opened his eyes, they were bloodshot and glassy. “She goes to the cemetery every year on this day. I completely forgot …” He paused, eyes lifting to mine as though hearing my accusations again for the first time. He nodded, lips pursed firmly together with dawning acceptance of his shortcomings. “I can take you.”
“No. I’ll go myself,” I snapped. His time to play protector was over. “Just tell me where I can find her.”
The damn cemetery was almost an hour outside the city, though I made the drive in under forty-five minutes. I swerved through traffic like a lunatic. I’d probably been flipped off a dozen times but didn’t care enough to check the rearview mirror.
Not until I spotted the Alexanders’ navy sedan parked on a narrow cemetery drive did my heart calm its erratic rhythm. Not far from the car, a lone auburn-haired figure sat among the orchard of marble memorials.
I parked behind her car. She had to have heard me approach but didn’t look my way, staring at the ground with a bottle of alcohol cradled in her lap.
“You here to fuss at me?” She didn’t sound totally wasted, which was a relief, but I had no doubt alcohol thrummed in her veins.
“Why, you want me to?”
“You probably should. I deserve it.”
I slid my hands into my pockets, remaining on my feet across from her. “And why is that?”
“Because I’m a selfish, horrible human being.” She met my eyes, undiluted shame staring back at me. She took a swig from her bottle, then rose to her feet. “You, Mr. Keir Byrne, are married to a murderer. Bet you didn’t expect that, did you?” She lifted her hands out wide as if daring me to be shocked.
I slowly stepped around the grave. “Somehow, I doubt that very much, little lamb.”
“Well, it’s true. Your wife killed her own twin sister. We’d only taken the training wheels off our bikes two weeks earlier. I got cocky and went off the curb, then dared her to do the same. She was so nervous. I knew she didn’t want to do it, but I kept at her, taunting her, telling her she would be a baby if she didn’t do it. I might have only been six, but I knew better. I knew we didn’t have our helmets on and that it was dangerous, but I did it anyway. The second her front tire went over, the bike went crashing to the ground. She went motionless, her head resting on that damn curb. I was so scared, I ran back down the street to get Mom from our front steps, but by the time we got back to Ivy, it was too late. She died alone on the street, all because of me.”
I knew we’d finally plucked away the last of her layers. This was what truly haunted Rowan. The festering wound eating away at her heart.
She’d carried that burden like a noose around her neck since she was six.
My fingers clenched with the need to ram my fist in her father’s face. I’d have bet every penny to my name that Alexander had no clue his daughter blamed herself.
As angry as I was, I had to force back the emotions. This was about Rowan, not me. When I didn’t comment, she continued.
“That’s why I couldn’t leave that girl alone in the attic. I’d already been responsible for one person’s death. I couldn’t live with myself if it happened again.” Her voice hitched on the last word.
I reached out and cupped her chin, lifting her face toward mine. “And you think I’m some kind of saint?” I spoke without emotion. Rowan was beyond coddling. If I had any chance of getting through, I sensed the only way would be through sheer force of will.
I took a step forward, and she a step back.
“I’ve killed people, and not even by accident. I ended lives intentionally without a shred of guilt.” We took another step together. “You think I or anyone else would look down on you for an accident that happened when you were a child?”
Her back finally met with a tall obelisk memorial behind her.
“You’re letting this go right fucking now.” I towered over her, a wall of menacing authority.
Her face crumpled. “Don’t you see? That’s what I’m afraid of,” she whispered. “That I’m finally letting it go. Today, for the first time in sixteen years, I forgot. Not until Dad reminded me did I realize it was the anniversary of her death.”
“Life moves on, Rowan. That’s a good thing. She’d want you to move on—and that means living your life. Your life. Not the life you think your parents want for you.”
“But I owe them.”
“Bullshit.” I clamped my hand around her throat, pinning her harshly against the stone.
Shock widened her eyes. I squeezed. Not enough to leave a mark, but enough to minimize her air flow. Her hands held my wrist, but she didn’t struggle.
“Is this what you want?” I hissed. “What you think you deserve? Death?”
Her hands tightened around mine.
“If that’s the case, I can give it to you. Just a few more minutes, and it would all be over.”
Her nostrils flared, panic filling her wide eyes.
My cold stare bore into her, watching as a myriad of emotions flashed behind wide hazel eyes. I saw the precise moment when her grief gave way to desperation and a rabid desire to live.
Every muscle in her body seized in preparation of a fight. But instead, I loosened my grip, bringing my face inches from hers.
“You want to live, Rowan, so do it,” I growled. “Live your life in a way that Ivy would have been proud of.”
She heaved for breath, her eyes wild as though seeing me for the first time. She launched herself at me, clinging to my body and kissing me as if my lungs contained the very last oxygen on earth.
I slid my hand down her leggings to her slick and swollen center.
“Keir!” she gasped. “We’re in a cemetery.” Undermining her objection, she tilted her hips to give me better access.
Two fingers found their way deep inside her. “They’re dead. They’ll be grateful for any action at all.” Lust grated away at my voice, leaving my words harsh and raw.
Rowan didn’t care. Her eyes rolled back as she allowed pleasure to sweep through her. I grazed my teeth against her earlobe, then kissed a path down the column of her neck.
“You’re so fucking incredible, little lamb. So wet for me. Such a greedy little pussy.” I felt her inner muscles squeeze my fingers. My dick lurched against my zipper, a reminder that it would very much like to be the one pumping in and out of her.
My girl was too greedy for that, though. In no time at all, her lips parted on a silent gasp as her body seized in a fit of ecstatic tremors. Her orgasm careened through her like a storm ravaging the plains. I had to help support her weight to keep her on her feet as her body recovered.
I removed my hand from her pants and lifted my fingers to my lips, waiting until her eyes cracked open before I sucked them into my mouth. Her taste did strange, intoxicating things to my body. It sent a flood of endorphins into my bloodstream and awakened a primitive urge to make her pregnant with my child. To claim her in every damn way possible.
“It’s time to think about what you want, Rowan,” I rasped through my lusty haze. “Not what’s expected of you or what you think you should want. Figure out what makes you feel good, and seize it. Life’s too fucking short for anything less.”
Rowan slowly nodded, a spark of clarity shining in her eyes.
“Good, now let’s get you home before I get arrested for fucking you on someone’s tombstone.”
She bit back a grin. “We wouldn’t want that.” Suddenly, her steps faltered. “Keir, I’m not sure I should be driving.”
“I’m positive you shouldn’t be driving.” I urged her forward with my hand at her back. “I’ll have someone get the car. You’re coming with me.”
Appeased, she continued but paused again after I opened the passenger side door. “Where are you taking me?”
“Home. You live with me now.”
She nodded, but her brows remained knitted tightly together. I got the sense she wasn’t convinced, and it grated under my skin. She still didn’t grasp that I was in her life for good.
Rowan was mine, and I’d prove it to her every damn day if I had to until she finally understood.
