Chapter Thirty

Tomás

Like a coward, I locked the bathroom door and sat on the floor against the tub, my knees drawn up, my hands in my hair. I killed a man. Although I knew it was a justified kill, I still couldn't stop feeling as if I'd done something wrong. Evil. I wasn't a good person. I had hidden guns for my brothers. I drove the car when they needed someone to spot for them. Although I'd never been the one to pull the trigger, I was just as guilty. I wanted to be courageous like Miguel, smart even. A survivor. A warrior. Cruz was more of a jokester than any of us, but he was fiercely loyal. Cruz and Miguel were always together. Daniel was like Dad. He had too much dick he wanted to share. Made me wonder if I had any nieces or nephews I didn't know about. I missed them because I knew I was safe around them. In a morbid part of my mind, I was okay with being the sidekick. The one holding the bag, driving the car, spotting because I wasn't brave enough to do anything else. I didn't have the stomach for the actual kill. But that didn't make me a good person. Looking away from shit didn't make me a good person.

When Kieran had left to face the threat, I knew I had to do something. And instead of feeling suicidal, I felt as if my life meant something. I wasn't a hero. I almost pissed myself out there, but it meant saving Henry. Because I couldn't let him die for me.

I wiped my face with my forearm and opened my hand. I'd cut my palms with the rings, but I couldn't let them go. They reminded me of a past I had wanted to leave behind. I could've gone back to Mom. I could've killed Maddox so many damn times. But I didn't. That wasn't me. It'd never be me. And I had to say goodbye to my old life and try to find something new. I almost laughed at that shit. There wasn't any poetic justice. I had to bury my past and let it go.

I had to.

I climbed to my feet, shoved the rings in my pocket, washed my face, and walked out. Fox was on the phone talking to someone about a cleanup. I assumed he meant the bodies. Kieran was tending to Henry's head wound.

Fox hung up the phone. "We have to get out of here and get back to the school. According to Tor, he…" Fox lifted his chin in my direction. "… has a contract on his head."

I stiffened and balled my hands into tight fists.

"Then let's go," Henry said, his voice shaky.

Kieran met my eyes. He must've seen something there. Me not ready to leave. Not without the truth. He turned to Fox. "Take Henry back. I'll drive Henry's ride back to school and we'll meet up."

Fox gave him a suspicious look. "You better be on my tail," he growled out.

Kieran nodded, lips tight.

Henry and Fox walked out, leaving Kieran and me alone.

"I'm not going back."

Kieran seemed to need a breather. "Did you hear that there's a contract on your head."

"Yes. Because of you."

"Are you sure about that?" Kieran said, not coming closer.

I launched the recording and shoved it into Kieran's hands. My father's voice already taking the air and my breath. "You were recorded with Talis and my dad, so yeah, I think everything that's happened to me for the last several months is your fault."

His eyes were glued to the tiny screen.

"I found the SD card in my father's sigil ring. Sloppy of you getting recorded. Who's the guy? I know his name's not Talis and I saw him with you at the club."

He shook his head and pulled out the SD card. His eyes full of panic, his lips thin. Not what he expected me to have had. "Do you have anything else? Did your father say anything to you or anyone else?"

I wanted to hate him. I really did, but Kieran suddenly sounded like a kid who'd gotten caught and he wasn't used to the vulnerability. "I'm done with this, with you. I'm done." I started to walk around him, but he grabbed my hand. Warmth bloomed inside of me. I wanted so much from this guy. Why? It made no sense.

"I'm trying to protect you," he finally said.

"By lying?" I pulled away from his touch, afraid that I'd submit to him again. I would because I had no backbone when it came to Kieran.

"Yes! There are things you cannot know. I'm not alone in this. It's bigger than just me."

"Right, because I'm nothing. Nobody. You can't even trust me! Well, you won't have to deal with me anymore. I'm done with you, with Arcadia, with all of this shit." I stomped away. My intentions were to sprint up the stairs, lock myself in the bathroom, figure shit out. But just as I reached the stairs, I glanced at him over my shoulder. Kieran sat leaning forward, his hand in his hair, looking down. His body seemed to fold in on itself with all the weight of the world. I lowered my eyes to the brand on my hand. The protection he hadn't owed me but gave me anyway.

I let out a resigned sigh and walked back. He didn't look up as I sat on the single armchair facing the sofa, keeping my distance probably the best idea I had. "You want to protect me, then explain what I need to know to move on." Please.

The silence stretched for what seemed like forever and I thought he wouldn't talk, until he did. "Your father and brothers are dead because they agreed to help me disrupt the Brennan's illegal shipment of drugs and guns, forcing Cillian Brennan, my grandfather, to borrow against his legitimate business to pay off the cartel he'd been working for. This allowed me to purchase those debts and take ownership of the legitimate company. Joaquín Moya and Trinidad Rosas Sr., were a fraction of the people we bribed into our scheme."

I tore my eyes away from him, letting the information drive home. Kieran was a Brennan. "Which Brennan is your father?" I asked.

"Tristan, the oldest."

I ran my palms along my thighs. "Did you know?" I dragged my eyes to his face. "Did you know when we met at Arcadia that I was a Moya?"

"No," he responded quickly. I believed him.

"And all this, everything, it was all for money?" My voice broke, finding it hard to keep from screaming.

He lifted his head to look at me and I saw such raw emotion in his eyes. We were in unchartered territory, unsure how to find our way back.

"When I was ten," he began, "My mother died of cancer. A few days later, strangers came for me and ripped me out of the only home I'd ever known. I was bounced around from one dirty dark place to another with no reference of time or who these people were, what they wanted. They starved me, beat me, and I never thought I'd feel warm again." He paused, rubbed his hands together, looked away. "I wanted to die. I was afraid. Then I met Cillian Brennan. He said nothing, looked at me as if he was going to squash me with his boot. He ordered the men to clean me up. They did. And when he introduced himself to me, he placed the barrel of a gun on my forehead and asked me why he should keep me alive." Kieran met my eyes. They were filled with raw emotion that punctured my heart. "I'm ten. My mother just died. I'd never met my father. Didn't even know his name. And this man is asking me for a reason. Do you know what I said?"

I slowly shook my head.

"I could be good. I told my grandfather not to shoot me because I could be fucking good." He wiped his face though there were no tears. "Cillian trained me to be a good soldier. I killed for him. Then, because the Universe decided to shit on me, when I turned thirteen, I was hospitalized and diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. My caretaker at the time hid it from my grandfather knowing that he'd consider me a defect and shoot me in the head."

I sucked in a breath. The impact of his words tore through me. Everything he suffered. Everything he'd survived.

"Then I met Tor and I knew I was gay. I'd been hiding who I was my whole life. But this, this takeover, it's when I get to be free." He played with his fingers, not wanting to look at me. But the tension in his shoulders, the way his knuckles turned white, I knew I had a front and center seat at Kieran's dark side. "I have a plan B," he said. "If the takeover doesn't work, I'll kill them all. I even planned on how I'd do it.

"I'd start with my eighteen-year-old aunt who I'd never met. She goes to Alderson Academy six blocks from her penthouse. I've even been inside her school. I'd use a knife to slit her throat, let her bleed out in the bathroom. Then there's twenty-year-old Declan who was discharged from the military. He walks with a gimp. Jumpy as fuck. But he has a sweet tooth. Goes to this joint on 87 and Wilmington for ice cream on Tuesdays. Ditches his security detail. I could get him with a sniper rifle off the adjacent roof. One slug to the back of the head. I'd take Liam just as he comes out of his BDSM kink club. Another sniper hit right through his perfect teeth. Maddox would be trickier. I'd have to make sure he's dead. The fucker is rumored to have nine lives. Sniper, through the eye. I'd kill my grandfather next and leave my father for last. I'd take my half-brother, his ten-year-old legitimate son, for a drive. I'd make sure he hears me kill him on the phone. Make that one loud and messy. Then, after he's lost everything, I'd face him. And let the gods decide."

Kieran lifted his eyes to mine. The monotonous sound of his voice as he just laid out his plans to kill every member of his family, even his younger brother, tore through me. But instead of being repulsed, I couldn't stop feeling I needed to protect him. To take away his pain. A tear slipped out and trailed slowly down his face. "Do you know why I won't go with that plan?"

I shook my head, unable to speak.

"Because I'd lose the last light I have left inside of me. I'd been holding on to it so damn tight. And do you know who has control of that light right this moment?" He didn't wait for me to answer. I had no answer to give. "You, Tomás. You're the last light I have left."