Page 146 of Fighting Chance

Grayson put a Ring camera on the front gate

he got a notification and checked it

he’s been cackling for twenty minutes over the footage

do I even want to know why he threw himself on top of your car?

LAYLA

probably not

BELLA

Grayson is having a field day with it, he’s editing the video to make Kieran look like he’s wearing a Spiderman costume

LAYLA

HAHAHAHA

“She asked if I was her new mom?”

The quiet question fills the living room, the same one that just over an hour ago was brimming with laughter and a euphoric lightness. Now it feels so heavy with the implication that I’m struggling to breathe.

Kieran squats before the fire, prodding the logs in an attempt to try and heat our frozen skin but I don’t think I can get warm again, not when my blood has run cold since he told me everything Emmy said.

“I completely froze and I tried, Layla. Fucking hell, I tried to keep it together when she was talking about how she was a bad mommy but you should have seen her sobs. I couldn’t hold myself back from crying.”

Not knowing if I should move closer and comfort Kieran or give him space, I settle on the latter. “I’d be concerned if youdidn’tget emotional. Kieran…what she admitted is gut-wrenching.”

He nods slowly, his gaze firmly set on the fire. “At least now it makes sense why she stopped speaking.” He laughs, but it’s humorless. “She was locked in a closet…for hours, maybe even days.”

A gasp flies from me. “But Emmy’s afraid of the dark!”

The muscle in Kieran’s jaw bunches. “Apparently she would scream that she was scared and was just told to shut up.”

No wonder I found Kieran in a daze earlier. It was like he was a zombie, his face crestfallen, skin ashen. The haunted gleam hasn’t left his eyes since I found him in the hallway.

My heart is utterly breaking, not only for that sweet innocent girl that deserved far better but for the man beside me, too, who’s crumbling at the revelation.

Moving forward, I squat beside him, physically incapable of not comforting him any longer, but as I gently brush my hand along his arm, he flinches. His head swings my way, eyes widening. I quickly retract my hand.

“Sorry, I just…I can’t say I’m sorry enough. I wish you two weren’t going through this. I wish Emmy never went through that. I wish there was justice.”

Kieran takes a shuddering breath before reaching out. To my surprise, he slides his hand through mine, interlocking our fingers as he lays down, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. “Justice is never served to the right people.”

Sadness seeps from his every pore, and I want to do everything in my power to help him. Even if it means carrying some of the heaviness weighing him down.

Lying on the living room floor beside him with our interwoven hands, I turn my head to the side, tracing the outline of his profile, the sharp line of his jaw, his surprisingly long lashes, his nose that is relatively straight except for a slight bump, probably from a break. It feels like we’ve entered a reality in which we’re the only occupants.

“I wish that wasn’t true,” I whisper between us.

“Why do horrible people always get away with it?”

“With what?”

“With…everything.” His brows furrow. “Not one person in my life was ever held accountable for what they did.” His confession, as quiet as it is, is full of hurt, pain lacing every word. “And trust me, they deserved it. They all deserved it but…not one person, Layla. Not one of them was ever held accountable so why? Why do victims never get justice?” Kieran falls silent for a moment, his words hanging in the air until he whispers, “Even when they tell someone.”

He says it so softly I can barely make out the words, my heart skipping a beat when I realize what he said.