Page 36 of Pieces Into Place

“Sometimes,” he answers truthfully without looking at me.

“How about right now?” I ask, as butterflies take flight in my stomach in anticipation of his answer.

He grins before speaking. “Oh, right now I’m absolutely loving it,” he says sarcastically.

“Liar,” I smile, and peg twelve points from my crib, pulling me ahead of him.

“So, do you know anything at all about me, other than I’m wanted dead?” I question.

“I know you’re Shaemus Kildare’s daughter. That says enough to me.”

My eyes bore into him like ice-cold daggers, my hands trembling around the cards in my hands. “And what exactly are you implying by that?” I growl, my voice dripping with ire.

“You couldn’t even carry a simple bundle of wood,” he sneers, the nice evening we were having now gone.

“What kind of outdated thinking is that?” I seethe, my patience having disintegrated into nothing. “It’s not my fault I never had to do any of these manual tasks!” I cry, desperate to prove myself to him.

“Being a Princess just doesn’t seem like difficult work,” he retorts with a shrug. Rage fills my veins like lava. His backhanded insult only further fuel my fire of indignation.

“Who do you take me for, Kane?” I demand, looking him squarely in the eye.

“The selfish, lazy daughter of a notorious mob boss,” he replies without hesitation.

His words hit me like a slap in the face. “No, correction,” I respond sharply. “I am the adopted daughter of Shaemus Kildare.“ His eyes widened in surprise at my claim, but I boldly continued on. “But, you assume I’m guilty by association, right?” My voice is cold with a simmering undercurrent of fury.

“I was a normal, happy girl until I was thirteen-years-old,” I say reluctantly. Although it pains me to retell the secrets I guard so closely in my heart, I’m determined not to give Kane the satisfaction of believing he can control me with his judgment. If he’s here to protect me, he needs to understand who he is guarding.

“Before Shaemus brought me into his home, I was a completely different person,” I continued, expecting him at any moment to tell me that he doesn’t want to hear it. Instead, Kane sets his cards down and turns his body to face me, giving me his full attention.

“My name was Simone,” I start. “I was an eighth grader living with my mom and grandparents. My life was perfect; I had a boyfriend and had just made the volleyball team. We were all very happy,” I choke out as tears begin to spill over my cheeks.

I feel the pain of my past seeping through me as I begin to tell him all I know.

“Someone in my family did something awful to someone with ties to the Profaci crime family. The next thing I know, both my grandparents had been killed in a supposed car accident, and my mother was found dead after being mugged.” It’s been nearly fifteen years, but my voice hitches at the memory of losing everyone I’ve ever loved. I catch myself before dissolving into that puddle of despair as I clear my throat. “None of it made any sense, especially because soon after that, I was placed in protective custody. Then, Shaemus somehow struck a deal and suddenly I was living in his home on the other side of the country, under a new name. The whole situation felt like a betrayal, and I resented him for it. I still do after what he did.”

Kane’s expression changes to one of confusion and fury. “What did he do?” he demands, his jaw clenched tightly as if ready for a fight.

I shake my head. “Nothing like that,” I murmur, barely above a whisper. His shoulders slump in relief, but his mind still seems on edge.

“He never hurt me physically,” I continue, recalling every memory that was seared into my brain from my captivity. “But it was more than just simple protection he was offering; he wanted to use me as a means to get at Profaci. I was hidden away in a cold and lonely mansion in Boston most of the time, and only brought out for public events as a way to spite his rival.” My voice wavers slightly, and I inhale deeply before continuing. “He kept me as close as possible without actually caring for me. I was nothing more than an asset to him. I’d characterize the hurt as willful neglect. Isn’t that what they call it when you are nothing more than a prop in someone’s life? He saw me as furniture. I’m a spiteful end table,” I say with humorless chuckle.

“Everyone and everything I had before I became Shaemus’s daughter was taken away, even my last name,” I say with a trembling voice. “I was homeschooled until I was sent to a very expensive private school. I couldn’t play sports or date anyone. I just existed.” I sigh before continuing, “I hated my life, and eventually, it became too much for me to handle, so, when I turned eighteen, I left it all behind. I thought Shaemus would come after me or try to bring me back, but he didn’t care by then; his mission of making his enemy suffer was complete.”

Kane’s features are set in an expression of conflicting emotions as he listens. I can see that he feels pity for me, and that is the last thing I want him to do. I just want him to understand.

“What about your biological father?”

“No idea who he was,” I reply tersely. “So, I have no family left. I miss my mom. I miss how she said she would always be there. I miss, I miss how much she loved me. I have no one,” my voice cracks under the weight of its thickness. “It has me wondering why, after all this time, someone suddenly cares about keeping me safe? Who? I’ve been alone all these years. Who is it?”

“I don’t have those answers,” he says, though he looks like there might be something else he wants to say.

We remain silent for a while, allowing me to gain control over my emotions. The atmosphere is growing stuffy, so I make an effort to inject some levity into the situation. “I thought you’d have something ironic to say when I told you I couldn’t have a boyfriend,” I jokingly commented.

Instead of responding to my comment, Kane glances away, his lips pursing together in a thin line. He let out a deep sigh before finally speaking, “Nah, I think it sucks that you never got the chance to have a boyfriend.” Then he adds, “So, you’ve never had a real relationship?”

I snort and cross my arms over my chest. “It’s so complicated. I don’t know who I am, how can anyone else ever really like me for the real me? It’s impossible and my paranoia doesn’t help.”

Kane nods slowly as he avoids eye contact with me. In a flat tone, he says, “Well, relationships aren’t always what they are cracked up to be.” There’s something in his voice that catches my attention; pain?