Page 90 of When You Stayed
“But if there was a chance I’d lose her by doing it? I’d bide my time. Silas had to wait to kill someone who hurt Natty, took him years of waiting before he finally had his chance. We don’t always get a clear-cut path, but we do what will keep the people we love safe.”
With that he left the garage while I stood there staring after him. He was likely on his way to apologize to his wife, and somewhere in that house was Royce, hurting and upset.
And I was here, weighing the outcome of war with a rival club. What the fuck was I doing?
TWENTY-TWO
KILLIAN
Twenty-five yearsI’d been staring at the same view and had yet to grow tired of it. A set of blue eyes that stared so deep into my soul that I worried she’d remove it all together. Silky blond hair that slid through my fingers when she lay on top of my chest while we watched our favorite shows. She was my everything.
My boots echoed as I stopped on the top floor of our house. It was reserved for my wife and her songwriting. It was a space that we’d converted into a bit of a studio where she could record music. I’d convinced her to record ten of her songs within the past twenty-five years, but she loved writing them. She’d even offered to write for a few bigger artists, but she did so under a different name, so no one knew they were even her songs.
I was still so in love with her that when she’d get angry with me, fear would wedge somewhere inside of my sternum, making it difficult to breathe. I fucked up too many times to count, never over anything other than the stupid club. Staying too late or not communicating. Choosing danger when there were two little girls waiting at home for me, and a wife. My beautiful, patient wife.
“I’m in no mood to talk.” Her sharp tone made smiling difficult, but I did it just the same, desperate to lighten the mood.
I shoved away from the door and sauntered into her space. A long seat ran the length of the large window, with a soft cushion and various throw pillows. That was her favorite place to sit when writing, but occasionally she’d head to the plush chair in the corner, or her piano.
“Wanna fuck then?” I joked.
She didn’t look up from her notebook, which meant she was incredibly pissed.
“Daisy, I?—”
She slammed the pad shut and threw it across the room as hard as she could. It crashed into the small table, knocking over a vase of flowers.
“How could you keep something that big from me?” Her voice rose about ten octaves, and I saw how red her eyes were, probably from crying. It made me feel like shit.
I kneeled where the flowers tipped and fixed them, trying to figure out exactly how I was going to explain myself. The truth was difficult to accept; I still hadn’t grasped it even after knowing for months.
“You know that I would never lie to you. Ever,” I said softly.
Her thick black lashes gathered more tears as she angrily swiped them away. “That’s what I thought, Killian. Our entire marriage, you’ve been honest with me. You’ve been devoted and loyal, but you know, that for me, if there’s even a hint of doubt…it can’t work. I can’t be worried that you’re not being honest with me. Not when you’re in that club.”
Rushing to the space in front of her, I kneeled and placed my palms on her thighs. “How could you ever assume in any lifetime that I wouldn’t be loyal to you? There is no undoing what we are, Daisy. Not ever.”
Her hand came to my chest, where under my shirt was my tattoo. It was the flower I’d had stained into my skin when I wasn’t even legally old enough to get it. A daisy to represent the dream of finding that one person who would get you when the whole world didn’t.
Her voice was rough as she asked, “Then why keep this from me? I don’t understand.”
My head lowered in shame. “I’ve wanted to explain this for nearlya year, but every time I opened my mouth”—I shook my head back and forth—“I can’t find the words.”
Her fingers ran through my hair, then over my neck. “Killian, you need to tell me. I’m with you to the end, you know that. Through thick, thin, and all the fuckery in between. I’ve stood by your side as your woman, your old lady, your wife. Tell me.”
She was right, and it wasn’t like I didn’t believe that. But I knew she’d panic once I explained all this, still I tipped my head back and told her. “Silas came to me about six years ago with a letter he’d received. There was no return address, and no stamp. It arrived on their front step. It was addressed to Rook, asking if he’d picked a side yet.”
Laura’s lip wobbled. “Max.”
“A week after that another letter arrived. This time it was a warning for them to get out of Rose Ridge.”
“That’s why you were so insistent on getting everyone out…” she trailed off.
I nodded. “I kept expecting the shit to hit the fan, Daisy. If you remember, I tried to get you to leave with the girls…it’s why I begged Connor to propose to Royce. I was desperate to get everyone out of here.”
My wife nodded absently while staring across the room. “I remember. You were panicked on a level that I hadn’t seen before. It scared me.”
“It forced me to make some choices that I wasn’t proud of. There were deals I began making that slowly pushed us away from being legitimate. Mostly we flirted with the line, but it helped me feel a little bit safer. Time passed, everyone left, and then nothing happened. I kept waiting and waiting for something to go wrong. We filled the tunnels, and increased security. Then, about a year ago, another letter arrived, but this time it arrived onourdoorstep.”
