Chapter 42

CHAPTER 42

FIONN

I wanted to make sure his wife wasn’t home. It’d be much harder to kill him with a witness.

It took me two days to learn of his daily patterns. Like how he gets his coffee every evening on the way back home. The way he likes to sit in his driveway to scroll on his cellphone, looking at college coeds before heading inside.

When he gets out of his car, he doesn’t notice me approaching from behind, silently trailing his smaller frame. He’s too busy with his cell to notice a damn thing as he heads up the driveway.

He doesn’t realize I’ve punctured his throat with a needle until it’s too late.

As he clutches his neck, the coffee collapses at his feet, black loafers covered in brown liquid.

“Good evening, Professor.” I hit him with a tight, crooked smirk.

He stares at me through my opaque sunglasses right before he passes out.

Holding on to him, I adjust my hoodie with one hand, looking in every direction for potential witnesses, then throw him in the back seat of my car. The camera by his front door was already disabled, and so were all the ones in a mile radius from here. No one will suspect me.

No one will even know what happened to him. I’ll make sure of it.

Slipping into the driver’s seat, I get us on the road and to the farm, dragging him out and tossing him into one of the stables.

“Wake up, asshole.” I slap him hard on the face a few times before he’s finally groaning.

The dose I used was only enough to keep him quiet until we arrived. Now he’s more than welcome to scream as loud as he’d like.

“Who…who are you?” His words are hoarse and his eyes glassy as he blinks up at me.

“My wife told me all about you.” I start undoing my cuffs, dragging each sleeve up to my elbows.

“Who? Who’s your wife?” he stammers. “Please, just let me go.”

He’s visibly shuddering, and it’s a pathetic sight.

“Amara Quinn.” I kneel before him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. “Your student. That’s who.”

His eyes expand. “I didn’t do anything to your wife. I—I—I was helping her. She’s the one who came to my office, wanting extra attention.”

My blood swirls in my veins, burning hot through my marrow. “Are you trying to insinuate that this was my wife’s fault?”

“No, I just?—”

Before he can say another word, my fist lands square on his nose.

“Fuck!” he hollers, holding it as blood shoots out.

My fist tightens. “You touched what’s mine, and for that, I’m gonna have to kill you.”

“What! No, no, please. I swear. I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I’m weak. I’m?—”

I punch him again and again and again. So many times, I lose count after twenty.

When I stare down at him, I can barely make out his face. “Say something now, you son of a bitch.”

But he doesn’t.

Placing two fingers on his throat, I don’t register a pulse.

Well, that was easier than I thought.

Washing my hands at a nearby sink, I dry them before grabbing my cell from my pocket and calling one of our men.

“How can I help you, sir?”

“There’s something I need you and the boys to get rid of. Need it done so no one finds it. It’s at the barn.”

“We’re on our way.”

Staring down at my shirt, I find blood everywhere. Slipping it off, I leave it here to have my men destroy it. I don’t want Amara to see me like this. Things have been going well between us, especially with the baby now, and I don’t want to jeopardize it.

Heading home, I find Amara putting on Fia’s shoes.

“Hi, Daddy!” Fia rushes over, wrapping her arms around my thighs, and I use one hand to hold her to me.

Amara inspects me suspiciously. “What happened to your shirt?”

“Just tore it riding.”

“Oh…” Her brows snap. “I didn’t realize that’s where you were.”

“Where are you two going?” I quickly change the subject.

“I’m just gonna take her out to the swings and let her run around before dinner.”

“That’s a good idea.” I clasp the back of her neck and kiss her softly. When I gaze back at her, my damn heart beats even louder. “I love you, Amara.”

Maybe it’s wrong to say it now, to tell her the truth after I just murdered someone. But I want her to know. I want my wife to know that I love her.

She gasps, unable to contain the emotions coasting through her wide gaze.

Seconds pass while I wait for her to say it back.

Instead, she continues to stare, unable to. Or maybe not wanting to.

And I wonder if she ever will.

AMARA

On the way to school the next day, I keep replaying his words in my head.

He loves me. He actually loves me.

I wanted to tell him I loved him too, but I got scared.

What if I don’t know what love is? What if it’s just attraction?

But it feels like more. This has to be love. What else can it be?

Roy trails close behind as I enter the Humanities Building, heading for my poli-sci class.

When I walk in, I’m greeted with the heavy murmur of students as a woman rummages through papers in the front of the room. Her hair is pulled back in a tight bun, and she’s dressed in white suit pants and a blue blouse.

“Who’s that?” I ask the student beside me.

“I don’t know,” she whispers, eyes filled with the same confusion I’m feeling.

“Settle down, please,” the woman calls, and the murmurs drown into silence. “I’m Professor Cortez. I’ll be filling in for Doctor Wright for the rest of the semester.”

Hushed voices echo, and my heart skips a beat, thoughts racing in my head.

Did something happen to the professor? Is he hurt? Is he…

No. Fionn wouldn’t do that. Not after he promised that he wouldn’t hurt him.

“What happened to Doctor Wright?” someone from the front row asks.

“The school will be sending an email about that, but for now, let’s open our books to chapter seventeen.”

The lesson flies by in a blur while my cellphone burns in my bag. I need to text Fionn and find out if he’s involved, though I’d rather ask him in person.

The hours pass slowly, but I’m finally heading home, nerves skittering in my stomach.

What if he was involved? What if he hurt the professor…or worse?

No. I can’t think like that. I’d rather know for sure instead of speculating.

As soon as Roy parks, I’m hopping out and rushing inside, heading toward his deep husky baritone drifting from the kitchen.

“Mommy!” Fia runs up to me as soon as I step inside, her arms snapping around my thigh.

I hold her close while my gaze fastens to Fionn’s, wondering if he’s capable of lying to me so easily.

“Hey, baby girl. How was your day?” He comes over, leaning in to kiss me.

His mouth on my skin feels so good, I almost stop myself from talking to him about this. My mouth thins as he pulls back, his eyes narrowing when he examines me again.

His jaw clenches, a muscle in his chin popping. “Louise, would you excuse us?”

“Of course.”

“Come on, Fia,” she says. “Let’s let Mommy and Daddy talk.”

“Okay.” She takes the woman’s hand, exiting toward the den with her.

“What’s wrong?” Fionn cups my cheek.

But all I feel is anger and sadness. Anger about the possibility that he lied, and sadness that I may have caused someone’s death.

Gathering the courage, I just blurt it out. “My professor, Dr. Wright, never showed up for class today. The sub wouldn’t tell us why. Do you know something about it?”

As soon as his nostrils flare, I just know. He did something.

“Oh my God.” The edges of my vision blur, angrily stepping backward. “You told me you wouldn’t hurt him! You promised.”

My body grows shaky as I back away even more, needing to get as far as I can from him.

Instead, he cuts the distance, sharply inhaling as he backs me up against the wall, his features twisted in fury. He doesn’t say a word, two palms caging me, his gaze dark and dangerous.

Fear crawls up my arms.

“I told you I wouldn’t hurt him,” he says. “I never said I wouldn’t kill him.”

My heart sinks, the words like hot burning flames. I slap a palm around my mouth.

“Please tell me you’re lying,” I whisper. “That this is some kind of sick joke!”

I’m blinded by my own tears.

“Amara…” He places a hand over my forearm, the touch so soft and warm, I almost forget it belongs to a murderer.

How many people does he have to kill for you to see him for who he is?

“Don’t touch me!” I fire out. “I can’t even look at you right now. You lied to me!”

With the tips of my fingers, I swipe under my eyes.

“I did this for you! He fucking touched you. Did you want me to wait until he raped you to do something? Is that it?”

An ache weaves its way through my chest. “I can’t be here right now. I can’t look at you.” I fight the tears that come. “I’m gonna go for a walk. Don’t follow me.”

As I march past, he grabs my wrist and tugs me flush against him. “You may hate me right now, but that’s okay, mo ban dia. I’ll never stop loving you.”

Pushing off of me, he stalks away, while I’m left collecting the broken pieces of the progress we’ve made.

I don’t know how long I’ve walked, not wanting to come home and face what he did. Max sniffs the grass, pulling me while my mind plays Fionn’s words over and over, like a broken record.

He killed my professor.

He killed him.

How did he do it? Did he send someone? Did he do it with his bare hands?

I don’t even want to know.

Is this going to be our lives? Where he just kills people at the drop of a hat?

“Amara?”

I register Elara’s voice behind me and pivot to find her strolling with Bubbles. Our two dogs sniff one another, Max wagging his tail. He clearly likes her already.

“How are you?” she asks.

“Eh, you know.”

But she doesn’t know.

Then again, maybe she does. She’s married to Tynan. She has to know what they do.

I need someone to talk to, and maybe she can be that person. I’ll tread lightly and feel things out before I tell her more.

Letting out a sigh, I tug on Max’s leash as we continue down the acres of open green grass. “I’m having a hard time with this life, you know?”

Glancing at her from my periphery, I find her nodding.

“Oh, yeah. Believe me, I get it. We’ve been married for so long that sometimes I forget, or maybe make myself forget, but I understand the fear you’re experiencing. It’s perfectly normal.”

“Yeah, exactly. And I just don’t know how to deal with the stuff he does. Especially when he says he’s doing it for me. But when it comes to hurting others, I don’t want him to do that to protect me. It’s not right.”

She pauses, narrowing a curious gaze, and my pulse flutters.

Did I just put a foot in my mouth? Crap. Crap!

“Are you talking about something specific?”

Oh, Amara, you’re an idiot. Tynan is gonna kill you for talking to his wife.

“Never mind.” I clear my throat. “I was just being stupid. I’m okay.”

I start to stride past her, but she rushes after me, grabbing my wrist.

“Amara, hey!” She pivots to stand in front of me. “You can talk to me. I know everything, okay? Everything they do. So you wouldn’t be telling me anything new.”

Running a hand over my face, I breathe a sigh of relief. “He killed my professor.”

“Oh.” Her brows shoot up. “I think this conversation at least deserves some margaritas.”

I let out a laugh before a groan comes through. “I’m pregnant, remember?”

“Oh, for me, girlfriend. Not for you.”

Once we make it back to her place, we settle in the den, her with a margarita, me with a virgin daiquiri, and I tell her everything. All about my past, my fears for the future, what he did and why.

“I get it.” She takes a sip of her drink. “It’s not easy being a Mob wife.” As soon as she says that, she grimaces. “When I say it out loud, I still can’t believe it’s my life. But I love him like I’ve never loved anyone, and that’s enough for me.”

My heart tugs, afraid that I may be in love with Fionn too. That it’s either accept my place beside him as the man he is or tell him to let me go.

Yet the thought of never being with him again, imagining him with someone else, looking at her the way he looks at me… It’s like a knife to my chest.

“I think you have to decide what you can live with,” she tells me. “This life of theirs, or a life without him.” Her eyes brim with compassion. “And it doesn’t have to be today or tomorrow, but you will have to choose.” She leans back into the sofa. “Though if you choose to walk away, you need to know one thing.”

“What’s that?”

She angles in closer. “These Quinn men, they don’t just let things go without a fight.”

A shiver runs down my spine. “Is that how Tynan was?”

She laughs. “Oh, yeah. My husband has a knack for getting what he wants. Especially when it was in the middle of the night while I had my suitcase packed to run from him.”

“Oh, wow.” I stare at her with shock. “So, what happened?”

“Well…” She folds her arms over her chest. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Then she’s telling their whole story, not holding back, and even through it all, I can tell just how much she loves him.

And I’m left wondering whether we’ll somehow get there too.