Chapter 41

Amisty breeze ruffled my hair, and water droplets clung to my skin. I breathed in deeply, letting the sea salt fill my lungs. Icy waves lapped lazily against my shins and soaked my jeans as I stood in the ocean. The quiet rushing of water and soft calls of gulls were the only sounds for miles.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Just… exist.

For just a moment, all I needed was to stand in the ocean as its waves tugged gently at my legs. I waded in deeper until the water was over my knees. I didn’t give a fuck that it was cold.

I needed this place and everything it offered. Thoughts of getting lost at sea and letting the water wash away the intensity of my emotions were comforting. Maybe a little morbid, but I didn’t fucking care. The idea of floating out with the tide and just existing in a space without conflict, without doubt, without pain… that appealed to me.

What I wouldn’t fucking do for one moment of true peace—a feat that seemed impossible when a goddamn war raged inside me.

“You always did love this place.” Mom’s voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I turned. She stood on the shore. Even though a clip held her hair back, wild strands drifted across her face. She wrapped her heavy cardigan tighter around her as she offered a smile. That bag of Waverly Farms donuts she tucked under her arm wasn’t missed by me. “Whenever you ran away, I remember we’d search all over town for you, but we’d always find you here. I stopped looking for you when you were a teenager because I knew you were here. You’d always come home when you were ready.”

“Did I really run away that much?” I frowned when she nodded. Fuck me. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby boy,” she said. “You’ve always needed more space than your brothers. As long as you came home, I knew you’d be okay.”

I waded through the water toward her. When I hit the shore, dry sand clung to my numb feet and my jeans. I touched Mom’s shoulder and kissed her cheek as I passed. Putting a decent distance between me and the water, I sat down on the sand. Without hesitation, Mom joined me.

“You were up early this morning.”

“I never went to sleep,” I admitted. What I didn’t tell her was how crappy I fucking felt. Even with my sleep medication in my system, I was so fucking wired. My body felt like shit, and my mind was all over the fucking place. It’d make for a hell of a fucking day.

“I know, baby boy,” Mom said. One glance at her told me that she’d been trying to spare me the admission. Well, fuck. “I brought you donuts from Waverly’s.”

“Thank you,” I replied as I took the bag from her and pulled out a donut. I rolled it between my hands. It was funny how something could become a favorite just because it made you think of someone. Every time I ate one of these damn things, it brought me back to Genevieve feeding me donuts as I walked her home when we were kids. How many donuts had been a part of pivotal memories? Hell, we had them at our wedding instead of cake because they’d become an us thing. I offered one to her, needing the distraction from thoughts of Genevieve. “Do you want one?”

“No, thank you,” she replied. “I’ve got breakfast plans with Declan and Raven later. You could join us, you know. Cade will be there.”

I scoffed and fucking froze under the look Mom gave me.

“Sorry,” I muttered, feeling like a fucking kid again. “I just don’t get their whole… thing.”

“He’s good for him.”

“Declan’s good for everyone.”

“Other way around, baby boy.” She drew a little circle with her finger in the air. “For as much as Raven and Cade are connected, that man is very good for your brother.”

“How do you figure?” I made a face. Yeah, I wasn’t fucking following her on this one.

“Declan has never not been needed in his life,” Mom began with a little sigh. “For as much as I tried to protect his childhood, he had to grow up too fast. I needed him. I needed his help after your dad died. You and your brothers have always needed him. He helped with schoolwork and taught you things at home while I was so busy working and running the pack. That didn’t change the older you got, even after he moved out. The pack needs him for everything. The town needs him to fix things and to have payment leniency. Everyone needs him. Even Raven, for as much as she does for him and as much as he needs her, she still needs a lot from him with her medical condition. Cade doesn’t need a single thing from your brother. He’s the first person in Declan’s life who needs nothing and just wants to be around him.”

“We want to be around him,” I said. But fuck, when she put it that way…

“I know, but he’s always been so much more than a big brother to you five,” she replied. “It’s good for him to have that friendship with Cade. No expectations. Just a mutual understanding of being there for each other and enjoying the time they have. It’s good for Declan to have someone like that. He doesn’t get that anywhere else.”

It was fucking hard to fight that logic. Wasn’t the entire foundation of Declan’s personality about being needed? I couldn’t remember the last time he wasn’t doing something for someone to fucking help them.

I frowned. But how much of that was the way he wanted to be rather than learned behavior? Most of my memories had Declan in them, taking care of one or all of us. That was just how it was. We fucking relied on him. We always had. And she was right. That wasn’t fair to him.

“Besides,” Mom continued, “I have a feeling this isn’t about Cade.”

“Oh?” I played dumb.

“Do you want to talk about why it really bothers you?” she asked. I clicked my tongue and stalled, focusing on my damn donut. “Three years or not, I still know you. What’s wrong, baby boy?”

“I feel like I don’t know him,” I told her, my voice barely audible. “I feel like I don’t know any of them. Nothing’s the same. I know it’s my fault, but still… I come back and Declan’s in a poly relationship, Sam’s more wolf than human, Lucas packed on the fucking muscle—”

“Language.”

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Lucas got healthy and worked his… butt off, Finn grew into himself and his cooking. The kid has a real talent, you know? And his influencer side? Yeah, never saw that coming. And Nolan? His store was barely a pipe dream when I left, and now look at him. It’s the go-to in Cedar Harbor.”

I faltered and tried to figure out the best way to say what I wanted to say. Mom was silent and patient, giving me the time I needed to organize my rambling thoughts.

“I don’t… fit,” I whispered, aware of just how pathetic I sounded. I stared hard at the ocean to avoid seeing her face. “I know I was gone three years, so I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe I thought… I don’t know. But they’re just… they have jokes and memories. They get each other. They know how to work together, and I just… sometimes it just feels like I could… just drift away with the current, and it wouldn’t matter. They’d go on like nothing happened.”

“Killian,” Mom began, and I winced at the pain in her voice. Her fingers gripped my chin as she made me look at her. Her thumb brushed down my cheek, that stormy gaze of hers considering me. The concern in her eyes fucking killed me. I knew how I sounded, and it wasn’t like that. Not really. I didn’t think it was anyway. “Talk to me, baby boy. Please.”

“It’s not like that,” I said with a tight smile.

“It sounds like that,” she insisted. “Killian, whatever it is, we can get through it.”

“I’m not going to do anything, Mom,” I promised. Kill myself. God, I couldn’t even say the fucking words to her. “I just feel a little lost right now.”

Mom’s hand ran a comforting track up and down my back like she’d done when I was a kid.

“Do you think it’s time to start talking about what happened?” she asked. I pulled away. No. Not happening. I wasn’t getting lulled into a false sense of fucking security. “Killian—”

“Mom,” I cut her off.

“Killian, you have to talk about this at some point!” she said over me. “What happened with Ginny’s father—”

“Is not up for discussion,” I snapped. A deep growl ripped through my throat, but Mom didn’t back down. She never would.

“Killian Donovan Byrne.” Fuck, my middle name. That was never good. “You listen here, baby boy. You think I can’t see what being home is doing to you, but I do. I know you’re hurting. You can’t go through this alone. You don’t have to—”

“It’s not my story to tell!” I exclaimed. Clearing my throat, I repeated in a calmer voice, “It’s not my story to tell, Mom.”

At least not mostly…

“If you are stuck bearing the pain and consequences, then it’s your story as well,” Mom replied. “I watched you drown once, baby boy, and I couldn’t help you. Please, don’t shut me out again. Let me help you, Killian. Let me in.”

I stared at her, taking in the sadness and worry on her face. It fucking broke my heart. I’d seen it on her face after I’d tried to kill myself—and so many years after when shit got hard in my life. I hated being the fucking cause of her pain. I hated making her worry.

“I can’t tell you, Mom,” I reiterated one more time. I couldn’t do that to Genevieve.

“Okay, Killian. When you’re ready, I’m here.” Mom nodded, her lips pressed together tightly as she let it go. I knew better. She wouldn’t let this go so easy.