Death of Cupids (The Blood of Cupids MC) Page 3

  In the instance I thought he was trying to talk me out of stepping into a catastrophe, but he was really speaking from experience. He blamed himself for Emily Brennan’s death and wanted nothing more than to keep me from having to live with the same regrets. That must have been why when Sean aimed his gun at Grace and fired, Pops jumped in front of the bullet. Pops died saving Grace. He must have seen that moment as his second chance.

  “Of course he recognized her.” She broke me from my thoughts. “She looks exactly like her mother.”

  Well that was a new twist. “You knew her mother?”

  She laughed, kicking back her head. “Yes, I knew Emily Brennan.”

  “How?” Since finding out about their affair, I had assumed my mother left because she knew there was another woman, but not because she actually knew the other woman.

  She looked around, trying to find a way out of the path she had begun, but upon realizing I was not budging, she continued. “I’m sure you know your father and her were planning on running away together.”

  “I did figure that out.”

  “Well, before they did, Emily came to visit me.”

  “What?” I did not know this story. I slunk down into the cushion next to her, prepared for her to resume the account.

  “So first, your father told me of his intentions. Things hadn’t been so great for us since he had joined the Cupids, so I honestly wasn’t surprised. Still, as you can imagine, I was angry.” She took a deep breath, and I watched her eyes glaze over. “He told me he was taking you, and he advised me not to fight. I mean there wasn’t much I could fight. I had no job, no money of my own, and I had been so distracted with what was going on between your father and I that I honestly wasn’t being a good mother.”

  I couldn’t argue with her. The memories I had of her from my childhood weren’t necessarily happy ones. When she was home, she and Pops were fighting or she was on the couch, blankly staring out of the window. She barely paid attention to me, aside from answering a few homework questions here and there. Over the years since she left, I had romanticized her. I told myself she had no reason to leave; everything was perfect. I realized now, they were far from it.

  “One night when your father was at one of his church meetings, Emily stopped by the house. She told me she was in love with your father, but for her own peace of mind, she needed to speak with me before taking action. She told me of her little girl and that she couldn’t imagine being without her, and she knew that your father wanting to take you with him must have been very difficult for me to hear. She said, and I still remember this like it was yesterday,” she kind of laughed as she said it, “I wanted to meet you so that you would have a face to put to the name, so that you would know who you were hating.”

  Pops never told me any of this; everything I knew of his love life I had figured out from Grace and Sean. Now I was hearing it all from a person whose side of the story I had never expected to hear. It was… strange.

  “What happened then?” She had my attention.

  “I made a mistake.” She took a deep breath, looking directly at me. “I called your Uncle Sean.”

  She was the one who called Sean. The pieces were starting to fall into place. I had a good idea what turn the story was about to take.

  My face must have given me away.

  “Ryan, please understand I had no idea what he was going to do.”

  “You… you knew this whole time that it was him who killed her?”

  She shook her head, focusing on the ground. “I did.”

  She went on to tell me about how Sean came over, outraged at the news she had just told him. He had known of the affair, even had helped them pass their letters back and forth, but he had only done it to get closer to his brother. Apparently Sean and Pops had been inseparable growing up, but since finding their way into adulthood, they had gone their separate ways. Pops had gotten married, had me, and their relationship suffered even more. After Sean had joined the Cupids, he asked Pops out for a night on the town, hoping he could entice him to join the club. That was the night he met Emily, the night of her bachelorette party. Since he met Emily, things between Sean and Pops were like old times. Pops wanted into the club, he couldn’t stop thinking about this new woman, and he wanted a way to impress her. While Sean was happy to have his brother back, what he was coming to realize was how popular James was making him among the club officers. They loved James, so in turn loved Sean. One even hinted that the two worked so well together that they were fast-tracking them to officers.

  Five years flew by, and there she was, threatening to take his brother away. She was threatening Sean’s shot at presidency. He couldn’t let that happen.

  “I told him to scare her, that was all.”

  I stood, shocked at what I was hearing. “You knew Sean. Did you actually think he would only scare her?”

  “He wasn’t… like that back then. Not yet at least. I think that night was what pushed him over the edge.”

  “I’d say that’s a bit of an understatement.”

  “I wanted her to turn him down. I wanted her to stay a Brennan and me to stay a Cassidy and forget this whole thing happened.” She stood, meeting me.

  “But then you left anyway.” I stepped forward, looking down at her. Everything she was saying was making my blood boil with rage.

  “I had to, Ryan. I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t look at your father every day knowing that… knowing I was responsible for Emily Brennan’s murder.”

  Did you forget you’d be leaving me too?

  Did you realize how broken he’d be by losing the only two women he ever cared about at the same time?

  Did it ever occur to you that he was the one blamed for her murder?

  Did you never think to at least find your son and tell him why you left?

  I would have asked one of those questions. Hell, I would have asked all of those questions, but I didn’t get to ask a single one.

  “You were responsible for my mother’s murder?”

  We both turned around to see Grace, standing in the hallway wrapped in a robe. She looked as though she was going to scream.

  Grace

  “I think I’m going to be sick.” I turned around and ran straight for the bathroom. I slammed the door behind me and twisted the lock. My back pressed against the cool tiled wall, and I slid down until I hit the floor. I just needed to breathe. In, out, in, out… no, I needed to throw up.

  I rolled on my knees, lunging forward and grabbing the porcelain in my palms. Between my heaves and coughs, Ryan was banging on the door.

  “Grace. Are you okay? Grace. Please let me in.”

  “Go away.” I cried as the tears ran down my face. I wasn’t sure if the tears were from the pain I felt emotionally or the pain I felt physically, but they were there just the same.

  “Grace, I’m not going away.” His voice was determined, but I didn’t want him to see me this way.

  “Please, just give me a minute.” I coughed again, bringing up the last bit of my lunch. It was now the sixth time I had thrown up in the last four days. A road trip did not seem appealing; neither did spending that stretch a time with a woman who admittedly had a hand in my mother’s murder. How was I supposed to get through this?

  I rinsed out my mouth and splashed the cold water on my face. I didn’t dare glance in the mirror; I could practically feel the broken blood vessels around my eyes. I knew I couldn’t hide in there forever, but I was going to hide as long as I could… at least from Anne Marie Carter. I couldn’t face her just yet. I slid back down to the floor, leaning my burning head against the chilled wall.

  “Ryan.” I whispered through the door.

  “I’m here, Grace.”

  “Just you?”

  “Yes. Just me.”

  I reached up, unlocking the door, and allowed him to take care of the rest. It opened slightly, and I saw his pitying eyes peeking down at me. I gave him a crooked smile as I scooted to the side, offering a place for
him to sit next to me. The door opened just enough for him to join me in our tiny bathroom. He locked the door behind him and sat in the space I had made. My head fell, landing on his shoulder, and I was soothed by the steady rise and fall of his breath.

  “So,” I finally spoke, “I don’t think I’m going to get along with your mom.”

  He turned his head, planting a kiss on my now damp forehead. “I don’t think I’m going to get along with her either.”

  I chuckled slightly. He said exactly what I needed him to say. He was exactly where I needed him to be. He was exactly what I needed.

  After a few ticks of much needed silence, I elbowed him. “It was a fun six weeks.”

  “It really was. I kind of like playing house with you, Grace Brennan.”

  “And I you, Ryan Cassidy.” I playfully poked him on the nose.

  “So where to next?” He leaned back against the wall.

  “You mean, after Philadelphia?”

  “Yes: after Philadelphia. Where is the next place we paint our red door?”

  It was a good question. I guess we couldn’t stay here, in our little south California cottage. While it had been our dream home the past six weeks, it was now tainted. I’d never be able to open that door again and not remember the note she handed me. I wouldn’t be able to forget her sitting on my couch telling Ryan that she was responsible for my mother’s murder, for that terrible memory I would carry with me the rest of my life. I would never feel safe knowing that Sean, and whoever else was working with him, knew where we lived. No. Ryan was right. We would need a new red door.

  “Kids should have snow.”

  I looked at Ryan, unsure of what he meant. “Snow?”

  “Southern California doesn’t get snow. Could you imagine growing up and never making a snowman? Never going sledding? Never catching a snowflake on your tongue?”

  I couldn’t. Those were important childhood moments. He was right. “Kids should have snow.”

  “So we’ll go somewhere with snow.”

  “And I want one of those wrap around porches.”

  “Yes! And a big backyard where we can have a trampoline.”

  “A trampoline?”

  “They look like a lot of fun.” He insisted.

  I laughed. “So we’ll have a trampoline.” I thought of all the things I loved as a child. I thought of what we’d be able to give our child. “And a tire swing.”

  Ryan kissed me ever so lightly. “And a tire swing.”

  The talk of our next dream home grounded me. I no longer felt sick or exhausted. I no longer feared facing his mother. That was all in the past. Ryan and I were too busy looking to the future: our future.

  “Grace?” His voice was quiet.

  “Yes?”

  “You do know how much I love you, right?”

  “I have an idea, but you can still tell me. How much?” I smiled up at him, but his returned look wasn’t playful; he was serious.

  “We don’t have to do this.”

  Just the way he said it I knew he wasn’t seeing the option as an ideal, but he was offering me an out. He knew he couldn’t ask me to help rescue the children of the woman who had abandoned him, the woman who might as well have ordered the hit on my own mother. But he also knew that he couldn’t leave me. Whatever we did now, we did together. We were a team. We had finally figured that out.

  I placed his hand in mine and felt a rush of energy. Something was on his mind: something he wasn’t telling me. I kissed his cheek. His skin was warm, flushed. His eyes bore into me, waiting for my reply. He didn’t actually expect me to want to run, did he?

  “We can’t keep running from him. You know that, right?”

  “I do. But I want you to know that I would do that. For you.”

  “I don’t doubt that for a second.” I smiled at him. “I believe you would do anything for me, Ryan Cassidy.”

  “I really would.”

  His eyes were still filled with intensity as he looked at me. I couldn’t quite place the desire that I could feel pouring from his stare, but one thing was for sure: Ryan really did love me.

  “As much as you love me, I love you too.”

  “I know.”

  He did know, but I watched him relax after I confirmed it. “Ryan, what’s wrong?” I finally addressed his suspicious behavior. “I mean, other than the obvious.”

  “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

  “Okay.” I still eyed him, waiting for him to snap.

  Then, after an eternity of tense silence, he did snap, just not the way I thought he would.

  “There’s just one thing I want you to do for me before we leave.” He pushed my hair out of my face and positioned himself directly in front of me.

  “Anything.” I smiled at him, trying to figure out what he was about to spring on me.

  “Marry me.”

  Ryan

  That ring had been burning a hole in my pocket since the day we arrived in California. There was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to marry her. I wanted to make sure the world knew she was mine, and I wasn’t about to waste any time proving my point. Finding the perfect moment to prove the point, though: that seemed impossible.

  She hadn’t been feeling well lately. I assumed it was the stress of everything that had happened. Between learning of our fates, being shot, watching our fathers die only an arm’s reach away from us, and everything Sean had put us through including killing the last person she had left on earth, her Aunt Kathryn, I really didn’t know if she’d be ready for a celebration.

  But I was ready. I was ready to start my new life with her, with only her. That’s when I bought her a ring. As I had never, well barely ever, splurged on alcohol, drugs, or hookers like the other guys in the Blood of Cupids Motorcycle Club, I had been able to save up almost eighty grand in the last five years. It was enough to start over, and I only hoped enough to prove to her that I was worthy.

  But every time I tried to start the conversation, something got in the way. Furniture needed picking out, groceries needed buying, and my favorite: Grace was tired and needed to lie down. Every day was a repeat of the day before. I thought she was avoiding me. I thought she knew I was prepared to propose, and was trying to let me down easy. I just couldn’t imagine why. After everything we had been through, why was she hiding now?

  She was pregnant. Of course. It explained the distraction, the nausea, the mood swings, and the exhaustion. It wasn’t me. It was our baby.

  But now our future was being threatened. I couldn’t waste another minute. Waiting for the perfect moment was not the perfect way any longer. She needed to know how I felt.

  “Marry me.”

  Had I been able to produce the ring that second, it would have been pretty smooth on my part. Unfortunately, since I had been sitting, the band had found its way to the very bottom corner of my pocket. I awkwardly repositioned myself to give my fingers a fighting chance of finding their target. I should’ve felt like an idiot, but I didn’t. I was so excited.

  “Ryan?” Grace looked at me, her brow furrowed.

  “Hold on… and there.” There, nestled between my thumb and index finger, was a platinum halo with a square cut diamond sitting atop of it. The fluorescent lighting of the bathroom was actually pretty generous to the stone, allowing flecks of light to flow in each direction.

  Her attention darted back and forth between me and the ring, never settling, never stopping, but also never answering.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Proposing. Is that not clear?” It was part joke, part complete seriousness.

  “In here? In the bathroom? With my face like this?” She brushed the streaks of dried tears from her cheeks.

  “Yes. Right here.” I stopped her frantic hands, closing them in mine. “I have wanted to marry you since the moment you walked into that bar. Do you remember the first thing I said to you? When you asked me if I was lost?”

  She choked out a loud laugh. “You said I was lost until I
saw you.”

  “Yes. Yes, I did. And while I might have hated myself in the moment, it was so true. I might not have known it then, but I truly was lost until I saw you.” I squeezed her hands tighter. “I knew you were special then. I knew if I didn’t take action, I might lose you forever. So that’s what I’m doing now, Grace Brennan. I am taking action. I want you forever.”

  She let my words sink in, and her face flowered into a smile. “Yes.”

  “Yes?” Was she answering my question?

  “Yes. I will marry you Ryan Cassidy.”

  Arms flew, and we were instantly twisted into an embrace. I brushed my hand through her hair, still tightly holding her ring with the other, and grabbed the back of her neck. I pulled her into a kiss full of excitement, love, and lavender shampoo. She pushed back, crawling over top of me and guiding my back to the floor. My head landed softly on our plush bath mat.

  “Give me.” She smiled, holding out her left ring finger.

  I slid our vow around her finger, and with its perfect fit, she gave me her perfect lips. I squeezed her to me, wanting as much of her as she’d give me. Between kisses and nips, we made plans.

  “Just you and me.”

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “When?”

  “Tomorrow morning.”

  She sat up. “What?”

  “Grace, I don’t want to wait until this is all over. God forbid, if anything were to happen to me…”