Chapter Twenty-One Tristan
Iwatched Adriana from across the room, my heart quietly hammering against my chest as she worked on the box with a focused intensity. She didn’t know I was studying her, noting the way her short dark hair framed her face in a way that made her look both tough and vulnerable. The sharp angles of her jaw flexed as she concentrated, her athletic build leaning over the task with a professional grace that made me appreciate the view.
She was showing now, and I could see her bump from her profile. I could’ve watched her all day long.
My brother cleared his throat and my gaze went to him as he sat down on a stool.
Kieran, meanwhile, had his attention glued to his phone, thumbs flicking across the screen in rapid succession. Whatever world he was delving into within that digital realm, it was a stark contrast to the tangible tension here in the hideaway townhouse in Boston.
The late morning sun spilled through the windows, casting a warm glow that did nothing to soften the cold reality of our situation. But as I kept my eyes on her, something like relief washed over me. She wasn’t pushing me away or bolting for the door, at least actively during this moment, which was a good sign in my book.
“Find anything yet?” My voice broke the silence, rougher than I intended.
“Still looking,” she replied without looking up, her voice calm but edged with determination that told me she wasn’t going to give up easily.
“Need a hand?”
She hesitated for a fraction of a second before shaking her head. “I’ve got it.”
I knew I needed to give her space. I just didn’t like it.
Adriana tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “If you’re right, Kieran, there might be something we’re missing.”
I glanced at the box, its contents spilled out like a silent enigma. “Adriana, I’ve been all over it,” I said, frustration lacing my words. “I can’t find shit.”
Before she could respond, Kieran stood up, his lean frame moving with an effortless grace that somehow seemed out of place in the tension-filled air.
“So as much as I want you guys to keep looking, I wanted you to know that I’m grabbing lunch with Liam. You should come.” His tone was casual, but the undercurrent of urgency wasn’t lost on me. It was weird–this strange push and pull with the box, like he wanted to guide us both to and away from it.
“Thanks, Kieran,” I said, shooting him a grateful look for the distraction, even if neither Adriana nor I could afford to take up his offer. “But we’re kinda in the middle of something here.”
Kieran shrugged, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips as he backed towards the door. “Offer stands. Just thought you could use a break.”
“Appreciate it,” I replied, then turned back to Adriana, who was already refocusing on the task at hand.
“Kieran, wait.” The words tumbled out of me with more urgency than I intended. “Have you seen Liam today? Before, uh, lunch?”
I was worried about him after what had happened with Killian.
Kieran paused at the door, his hand resting on the handle. “Liam?” He turned to face me again, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his expression before he masked it with his usual nonchalance. “Yeah, he took off after last night. Said something about meeting that fiery redhead from the pub.”
“Ali, right?” I asked.
“Who’s Ali?” Adriana spoke up.
“Liam’s new girlfriend, I guess,” I told her. “Did he say when he’d be back?”
“Didn’t sound like he had any plans to rush,” Kieran replied, shrugging as if the conversation bore little significance. “You know how Liam is—probably lost track of time.”
“Right.” I swallowed hard, trying to push down the uneasy feeling in my gut. It wasn’t like Liam to be careless, not with everything that was at stake.
“Anyway, lunch,” Kieran tossed over his shoulder as he stepped out into the late morning sun. “Let me know if you change your minds.”
I watched him go, the door closing with a soft click behind him. The fleeting peace of our hideaway townhouse seemed even more fragile now, and as I looked into Adriana’s eyes, I knew she felt it too.
“Tristan,” Adriana’s voice pulled me from my thoughts, “you need to eat.”
I almost smiled at her maternal tone, laced with concern for the life we’d created together. “In a bit,” I said, my fingers grazing a cryptic note, its edges worn. I could feel the weight of history in my palm, the silent stories begging to be told.
“I don’t know what happened last night, but I can tell when you’re worried. Did it have anything to do with Liam?”
I shook my head. “No, but he was there.”
“So go have lunch with him,” Adriana replied softly. “We can sort all of this out later, okay?”
“Stay safe, Adriana,” I finally whispered, the gravity of our situation settling over us like an invisible shroud.
“Always,” she replied, her voice steady but her eyes revealing the depth of vulnerability we both tried to shield. She reached out, her touch light on my arm—a fleeting connection that grounded us amidst the chaos.
I trailed Kieran out of the hideaway townhouse, our footsteps a synchronized echo against the Boston concrete. The chill of late morning bit at my skin as we approached his matte black car.
“Kieran,” I began, breaking our silence. “Seriously. How’s Liam holding up?”
He slid on his shades, casting me a look that cut deeper than words. “You know I wouldn’t know, Tristan. I came back with you, not him.”
“Right.” I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling the weight of my choices. “I should’ve been there for him instead. One of us should have.”
“Maybe,” Kieran replied, his voice low and even, “but one of the Callahans definitely needed looking after.” His eyes didn’t meet mine, but the message was clear. He was talking about me.
“I was fine.”
“Liam hadn’t just shot his best friend,” he said. “You needed the company more than he did.”
I leaned against the cold metal of his car, the reality settling into my bones like winter. My finger traced the spot where a bullet once left its mark. Guilt clawed at me from the inside out.
“Let’s go grab something to eat,” Kieran suggested, unlocking the car. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, though I knew well enough he wasn’t wrong.
The late morning sun was too bright, the bustle of Boston an unwelcome cacophony as Kieran and I stood beside his sleek black car parked outside the hideaway townhouse.
“Tristan,” Kieran said quietly, and I turned to face him. There was something in that single word, the way he said my name, that told me he understood more than I’d given him credit for.
His hand came to rest on my shoulder, grip firm, grounding. It didn’t need words, that touch. It spoke of shared blood, shared pain. “We did what we had to do,” he remarked, his tone holding the edge of steel we were both forged with. “Killian forced our hand.”
The guilt was like acid in my veins, but Kieran’s acknowledgment was a balm I hadn’t known I needed. We both knew the cost of betrayal, the price of survival in this cutthroat world we were born into. It was a brutal truth that bound us together.
“Right,” I managed, the word rough in my throat. His hand squeezed once before letting go, and I found myself missing the contact more than I should.
“Hey, look at me,” Kieran pressed, and I did, finding his gaze unyielding. “We share this burden, you’re not—“
“Stop.” I held up a hand, not wanting platitudes or reassurances. They rang hollow against the backdrop of our reality. “Just...don’t.”
He nodded, understanding the silent plea, and we fell into a momentary hush, the sounds of the city wrapping around us.
It was Liam’s face that haunted me, though. Younger, less marred by the shadows that clung to Kieran and me. “What about Liam?” I asked, the concern for our brother gnawing at me. “How’s he going to carry this?”
“The boy’s tougher than you think,” Kieran replied, but there was a flicker of doubt in his eyes. A crack in his composed facade that mirrored my own fears.
“Seeing someone die like that...” My voice trailed off, the images seared into my memory stirred up fresh waves of apprehension. I could only imagine how it clawed at Liam’s conscience, how it might be warping the light in him to something darker, something more akin to ours.
“It won’t be his last time,” Kieran said. “For all we know, it wasn’t his first time.”
I looked back into my brother’s eyes. “That’s fucked. You know that’s fucked, right?”
“We’ll watch out for him,” Kieran assured me, but the promise felt brittle in the face of the unknown.
“Yeah,” I agreed, because what else could we do? Our lives were tangled in loyalty and blood, for better or worse.
“Come on,” Kieran said, opening the car door. “Let’s get some food in you before you keel over.”
“Charming as ever,” I shot back, but followed suit, sliding into the passenger seat. As we pulled away from the curb, the rearview mirror caught my reflection. God, Kieran was right. I looked like shit.
But it didn’t matter. Not right then.
I might not have been able to protect myself, but at least I could try to protect Liam. Whatever it took.