Page 46 of One Kill

Riley’s body makes some disgusting involuntary sounds as his body swings from the beam, blood dripping down his face and onto the floor beneath him.

“Good shot, Boss. I’ll go get the gear.”

This may be a closed down area, but we still need to clean up. We haven’t been super vigilant up to this point, which will make this cleanup last a little longer, but it’s what my crew does best.

“Get Binx in here to watch the place. I’ll head back to the truck with you. I need to see her face before I believe this shit.” I sigh heavily, waves of disappointment crashing through me at such an unsatisfying end for Riley Callaghan.

He deserved more pain than that, purely for being such a dick.

“Nothing to report, Boss.” Tab heads over as I step outside.

“Okay. You and Binx stay here with Shoo to clean up. Text Crank, get him to head over to that Newark address I gave you. Flower will wait for him at the top of the street.”

“On it.” Tab nods and I turn to walk away, back to the truck.

Something’s off with all this and I can’t quite put my finger on what just yet.

What I do know is that by killing Riley Callaghan, I’ve already begun the war. And despite the fact that my daughter is safe in the arms of her dad, I won’t leave something unfinished.

A relationship between me and Murphy, me and Hallie; they can only ever happen once the Irish have been eliminated from the picture.

As long as I’m their target, Murph and Hallie are in danger.

Chapter Twenty-Two

J

Theentiredrivebackto Murphy’s is a blur.

My emotions are rampant and my mind is racing back and forth from the most horrific hours of my life to what could potentially be even worse moments ahead. Having never gone to therapy, I don’t know the extent of damage my parents’ slaughter had on my mental health but it doesn’t take a highly educated doctor to guess it’s extensive. Enough so that, until this very inconvenient moment, I didn’t have specific scenes flash in my mind.

13 years ago

“Sweetie, will you grab the plates for me, please? Your father is on his way home so we can eat at a reasonable hour.”

Turning to the counter, I place my hands on either side of the stack of plates, and just as I lift them and turn, a spearing pain like nothing I’ve ever felt before shoots up my spine and across my entire swollen belly.

The plates fall, the sound of crashing ceramic against tile kitchen floors assaults my ears as I crouch to the floor and scream at the top of my lungs. My mother is immediately at my side, holding me tight as a contraction rushes through me. Being pregnant at sixteen isn’t how I envisioned a life for myself but true love made me do it—along with raging hormones and non-existent self-control when I’m around Murphy—and a Catholic upbringing made me keep it. Her. We were told three months ago that we’re going to have a little girl.

Even at sixteen, Murphy is all in. And if I hadn’t understood it before the ultrasound, I definitely did when he cried at the news. Most guys dream of having boys for all the stereotypical reasons, but not Murphy. No, Murphy wanted a little girl because, according to him, she’d grow up to be strong and determined just like me and he couldn’t imagine anything more incredible than that.

On the flip side, I am petrified. Everything about this situation scares me to the point of panic attacks. The first time I experienced what I thought was a contraction—turns out it was Braxton-Hicks—I actually thought I was having heart failure due to stress. Murphy talked me through it since he’d been reading all the books on having a baby and what to expect during the whole process. We’d curl up in bed, my head on his belly and his palm on mine—protective and soothing—as he read me chapters out loud that corresponded to my pregnancy month. It would always make me feel better.

Murphy always makes me feel better. The eye to my hurricane.

“Breathe, sweetie. In through your nose, out through your mouth.” It’s the second contraction of the day but they’re too far apart for us to rush to the hospital. Besides, my dad’s not here yet and he’s the only one with a car.

“Can Murphy take us to the hospital, Mom? It really hurt!” It’s gone now, only the remnants of pain are left, but just the anticipation of it coming back is making my mouth dry and my heart beat out of my chest.

When I look up at my mom, she’s staring at the clock and I realize she’s watching the minutes to see if another contraction is about to hit me. After five minutes of nothing, I come to the same conclusion as my mother… it’s not time yet.

“Let’s wait a little longer, okay? I spoke to Mary this morning and she mentioned Murphy had to work all day so he could take the next week off since that’s your actual due date.” Her words hit me straight in the chest with both disappointment that he won’t be here for another couple of hours and pride because his whole life already revolves around me and the baby.

It was never in my plans to get pregnant this soon but I guess my silver lining is Murphy, because there is no one else I would rather make such a beautiful mistake with than him.

“Okay, yeah. I’m better now, I think.” I start to rise but gravity is getting the better of me in this position. My mother chuckles as she grabs on to the edge of the counter and lifts herself up before helping me rise to my feet. I’ve only got weight on my belly but damn, it’s like my entire balance has been wonky for the last five months.

“Go lie down in our bedroom, the bed is firmer than yours, and I’ll call you when dinner is ready.” With a kiss to my forehead, she gently taps my belly, as she always does, before walking away.

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