18. Bree

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Walking into the living room,Declan's hand on my lower back feels half like support and half like he's forcing me forward. I'm still so conflicted about my feelings for him and the rest of the Burkes, and now I'm terrified of what they're going to say.

I know that my father is a criminal. Hell, so am I, just based on how I've kept up the books.

Declan and Patrick, Gray and Lara, even Paige—they"re all in the life too. So, why is it that my father is so hated?

I can't imagine it being anything but petty issues with shipments or something like that—but what if it's worse? What if it's something.... unforgivable?

The very fact that I'm worried about it means that I'm aware my father is capable of it. I was just never forced to face that fact.

I keep my tears at bay, walking downstairs, and the Burke family seems to have been waiting for me.

Paige and Lara share the big chair in the corner, cuddled up together. Paige looks upset, tucked into her older sister's body. Patrick sits in the recliner, and Gray is on the couch, his blue eyes downcast, which is weird. Declan sits next to Gray, leaving me on the other end of the couch, watching Patrick.

Patrick keeps my gaze, not looking away.

"This is a long story, a'stor, so sit tight," he drawls.

I nod, keeping eye contact even as tears threaten at the backs of my eyes.

Declan keeps his hand on my back, rubbing small, comforting circles.

"I guess it starts back in Ireland when the Burke clan started up. My father and my grandfather before me lived in Dublin, and it wasn't until I took my young wife…" His voice falters, and he takes a deep breath. "The mother of my children, of course, to America, that the trouble started."

I frown. I know for a fact that my father isn't first generation Irish, so the Burkes are older than the Murphy clan.

From the way my father talked about them, I guess I thought that the Murphys were more established than the Burkes.

But just that is no reason to hate my father. I assume there's more.

"The Burke clan started up in this city much like we had in Dublin," Patrick continued. "I'm not saying that we were saints, God would strike me down if I did. But we stayed away from two things: kids and women. I even had cousins that dabbled in prostitution, but when it became forceful, I forced them to stop... with any means necessary."

I gulped.

Patrick Burke is a dangerous man, especially if he went after his own cousins for prostitution.

"My father has never run girls," I say, and Patrick raises an eyebrow, smiling bitterly.

"Is that so, now?"

I frown, standing my ground. "He's never brought any girls around the house, and I've been there for several shipments."

"Shipments he stole from us?" Gray asks, and Patrick gives him a hard stare.

"It's not the time, Gray."

Gray hangs his head, and puts his hands in his lap, seemingly chagrined.

"Your father runs young girls," Declan murmurs. "Underage. I recently spoke to one of them, and we're trying to help them get out."

I gasp. "You're lying."

But some part of me knows that he's not. There's money coming into the household that shouldn't be, that isn't explained by guns or drugs. But young girls? Underage?

I can't believe it. Don't want to believe my father would stoop so low.

"I wish I was, princess." Declan brushes a tear I didn't know was running down my cheek.

"Maybe he fell in with the wrong people," I say shakily. "Maybe?—"

"He runs it," Gray says flatly. "He's been running it for years. We've kept it under control, trying to intercept shipments of women, but we can't be everywhere all the time."

I look at Gray, and then Patrick, and then Declan. All of them are stone-faced, serious. They are not gloating. Not having fun with this.

They're not lying to me.

I take in another shaking breath. "There's more, isn't there?"

Declan puts an arm around me, drawing me close.

Patrick squeezes his eyes shut and then opens them again, and when he does, there are tears in his piercing gray eyes.

"I wish that that were the end, a'stor," he utters, and I find my heart going out to him.

I don't even know what he's going to say, I couldn't predict it if I tried, but I can see the pain lining his face.

Paige starts to sob softly, and Lara strokes her hair.

Even Gray looks down, his shoulders slumped. He runs his hand through his head and the longer hair on top gets a bit disheveled.

"My wife was in a car accident," Patrick starts, his voice raspy and gruff. "Maureen." He gestures to a picture of a gorgeous brunette hanging on the wall, her head thrown back as she swung a baby around.

"That's me," Gray says roughly, and I smile a little.

"She's very beautiful."

"Was," Declan bites out.

"When we found out that Niall was running young girls, letting God knows what happen to them, we retaliated. There were losses on both sides," Patrick says.

"I'm so sorry," I gasp.

Patrick holds up his hand. "Save your sorrys, a'stor. You'll need them for the end."

Declan took in a shaky breath, rubbing his hand across his face.

"After the first few battles, we thought we'd made a mark. We thought that your father would stop stealing our shipments, trying to recruit our men. We thought for sure that he'd stop running girls. And I suppose he did, for a few years." Patrick pauses and looks right at me. "I believe it was around the time you were a child."

I nod. I know that my father did take a break from crime for a while after my mother left, that he'd stayed home with me a lot, but I didn't know exactly why. I thought he was just grieving my mother leaving.

"Maureen was on her way to the market," Patrick starts, and then a sob hitches in his chest and he stops, taking in deep breaths to get himself together.

Part of me wants to reach across and take his hand, but I don't. My shoulders are stiff. It's like I'm frozen solid. I can't feel anything—not the tears running down my face, not fear or panic or sadness. Nothing.

I'm just numb.

It almost feels like I'm watching this scene from outside my body, as if I'm floating somewhere on the ceiling and watching Patrick break down.

"I'll do it, Da." Declan reaches across to pat his father on the back, and Patrick nods.

Declan turns to me, and there's such pain on his face it would tear me in two, if I wasn't somewhere on the ceiling watching. If I was back in my body, this would hurt.

"My mother was on the way to get groceries. We didn't have Marisol before Ma passed. She did all the cooking, all traditional, shepherd's pies and soda bread, things like that. She loved cooking for us." Declan pauses and pinches the bridge of his nose with his fingers, as if he's trying to stop tears.

His eyes are wet, anyway. "She never made it there."

"She was t-boned by a Rolls Royce," Gray states. "You know anyone who drives a Rolls?"

I frown. "No."

But a memory comes to my mind. A fleeting one. And I try to grab it. It's…

"My father..." I gasp. "He used to own one, years ago."

"Want to take a guess why he got rid of it?" Declan asks, bitterness clear in his voice.

"No. No, that can't be." I shake my head, and suddenly I'm slammed back into my body, and the world is full of emotional pain. "He wouldn't."

"He did, a"stor," Patrick whispers, as gently as he can. "There was video evidence, but we could never see his face. We knew that he'd arranged it, even if he hadn't done it himself. The man behind the wheel drove away, left Maureen there, bleeding to death in a car that, after capsizing a few times, landed wheels up but was completely destroyed." Patrick sobs now, dropping his head into his hands. "We couldn't even have an open casket."

"Why?" I whisper. "Why would he do that?"

"He hates us." Gray sounds almost frustrated, as if it should be simple. Obvious. "He wants what we have, and he's been trying to get it for decades."

"But your mother?" I gasp, and suddenly, I can't breathe.

I bolt upright and then stand, pacing around the room and wheezing, trying to breathe through what feels like a pinhole in my throat. "Innocent girls... children..."

I want to scream they are lying, but memories flow of things I hadn't noticed before, and the picture forming in my head is a dark one.

Oh god. My father is every bit of the monster that the Burkes think he is.

Paige stands, coming to me and putting her arms around me, and I sob against her shoulder, and she sobs against mine, both of us coming away with wet shirts.

"It's not your fault, Bree," she whimpers. "You didn't know."

"I'm a Murphy," I almost spit my name, looking over at Declan with tears streaming down my face. "How difficult it must have been to marry me. How disgusted you must have been."

Declan looks shocked, his eyebrows raised. He stands up, frowning. "No, princess. I'd never be disgusted by you."

He tries to put his arms around me, but I wrench away, bolting for the stairs.

Declan follows, but I slam the bedroom door in his face, panting, trying to get air that doesn't seem to be coming into my lungs.

"You know I can open the door," he warns, but I brace my back against the closed door, squeezing my eyes shut against the burn of tears.

"Please don't," I whimper. "If you ever cared about me, don't."

"Bree," he starts, and then he's quiet for a moment. "I'll be right outside when you need me."

Something slides down the door.

Is he actually just sitting on the bedroom floor in front of the door?

It doesn't matter. I can't come out. If I could, I'd climb out one of these windows, and if I didn't fall to my death I'd move far, far away. Away from Declan, who deserves better than the daughter of a monster. Away from the Burkes, who deserve better than such a stupid woman for their family member.

Away from my father, the monster himself.

Underage girls… sex trafficking… the death of a mother…

He's responsible for all of it. And if I'm honest with myself, I know the sex trafficking is still going on. Ever since he bought that strip club, there's been more money coming in than makes sense.

"Will you let Lara in?" Declan asks through the door, jolting me out of my thoughts. "I just want to make sure you're okay."

"Okay," I sniffle in a small voice. "Just Lara."

Paige would be too much right now, and Gray barely tolerates me. I can't even look at Declan, knowing what my father has done to his mother.

That Rolls Royce hadn't been traded like my father said. It had been covered with Burke blood.

My stomach churns, and I run for the toilet, retching, as Lara enters the room.

She rushes to me, holding back my hair as I throw up what's left of my dinner.

"I'm so sorry you had to find out this way," she murmurs. "Especially just after you wished him a happy birthday."

I freeze.

God, I hadn't even considered that. I've sicced my father on the Burkes, and they didn't do anything wrong. Kidnapping me is the least they could do after what Niall did to them.

And considering who he is, the lies he hid from me, I think the Burkes actually saved me.

I'm having a hard time even thinking of him as my father anymore, and now I'm wondering what else he lied about.

Did my mom really leave? What made my sweet mother run from him and leave me and my brother behind? Could he have done something to scare her away?

Have I been living a lie my entire life?

I throw up once more before my belly is empty, and Lara cleans my face with a cold towel and helps me sit back against a wall.

"Just give me a sec," she says. "I"ll deal with Declan to keep him away."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

She leaves for a minute, and I can tell he is not happy.

"She needs me!"

"She needs time, Declan."

Eventually, the bedroom door closes, and she comes back and leads me to bed, pulling the covers over me.

Lara's right. I need time. I need time to try and figure out how to warn them that my father is coming. If he was willing to kill their mother over a turf war, God knows what he'll do to Declan for kidnapping me.

And I don't think I can think about my father killing Declan. The man I'm falling for. The man who must think I'm as much of a monster as my father.

And he's right. I've ruined everything. I used to think of myself as a princess, being captured and waiting in my tower for someone to save me. But now I realize they took me away from a huge lie, a toxic situation that I never would have known I was in.

Or maybe I'm not the princess at all.

Maybe I'm the dragon.