Page 53 of Where Broken Wings Fly

She accepts the beer. “Thanks. You’re very talented, Kill.”

Still hiding behind the breakfast bar that separates the two rooms, Killian’s nostrils flare as he struggles to accept the compliment. He actually looks a little shy. Fuck me sideways. Willow is bringing out a whole other person inside my cousin.

“My parents were some of Briar Valley’s original residents,” he explains, still stirring his gravy. “They knew how to build something to last. We designed this place together.”

“So that’s your aunt and uncle?” she asks me.

“Yeah. Micah and I moved to Briar Valley when we were kids after our dad died.” I fill in the gaps. “Years passed, and we never left.”

“This must have been a great place to grow up.”

“We were home-schooled by Pops and spent most of our time playing on dirt bikes or pissing Lola off when we trashed her flower beds.”

“You trashed her flower beds,” Killian corrects.

“He never went long without getting grounded.” I gesture towards the scowling asshole. “Always getting in trouble.”

“Only because you were a little rat,” he accuses. “And a fucking loudmouth.”

I flip him off. “Not my fault you got caught the most.”

“Pops?” Willow smothers a laugh.

“Your grandad,” I clarify. “He taught all the kids around here and kept us out of trouble. It hasn’t been the same around here since he died. The whole town loved him.”

She fixes her gaze out of the window at the steadily falling rain. Shooting me a death look, Killian gestures for me to do something about the smile disappearing from her face. I didn’t mean to upset her.

“Zach?” Arianna breaks the silence. “Can I watch a movie?”

Her eyes are glued to the huge TV screen as she flops onto the sofa, its huge size dwarfing her sheer tininess. Grateful for the distraction, I grab the remote.

“Sure, squirt. Whatcha fancy?”

“I like animals and princesses.”

“Who’s your favourite?” I wink at her.

Her mouth falls open. “You can’t make me pick!”

Chuckling at the outrage on her face, I grab a blanket and wrap it around her shoulders. Her eyes have turned into giant saucers as the movie begins, dappling bright colours into the room.

Willow fusses over Arianna for a moment, ruffling her hair before joining us back in the kitchen. The tense moment has passed, and she’s wearing another carefully constructed smile. I doubt she realises that I can tell the difference.

“Need help with anything?”

“It’s all under control,” Killian says as his timer goes off. “Well, unless you want to help serve. I can’t do fancy presentation or shit like that.”

“Sure. Where do you want me?”

I watch them work in comfortable silence as they load up five plates with food, dancing around each other with a weird kind of ease. I’ve never seen Killian so relaxed around someone else. He can be a moody bastard, even around us.

Something about Willow brings out the calmer part of him that longs to have the warmth of a family again. It’s been years since we’ve had dinner like this. When we were kids, we gathered around the table every single night, without fail.

“Ari,” Willow calls. “Go wash your hands.”

“But Mummy, the movie!”

“It will still be there afterwards.”

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