16. Keir #2
“When she was younger, I remember her joking with me, playing games, and being silly. She would always tell the best stories to help me fall asleep,” Orla said, reaching toward the plate and snagging herself two biscuits.
I was ravenous for more information, but opted to tread a little more lightly from here. “What changed?”
Orla nibbled on the edge of a biscuit as she thought. “I don’t know. Sometimes, I felt like she was sad, so I tried to cheer her up, but…” she shrugged, not finishing her thought.
“She became a teenager,” Nora interjected. “That’s all it was. She changed after she went through puberty.”
I glanced at Molly, trying to piece together this information. I hadn’t ever seen her behave anything but seriously. What had happened to cause her to change?
“Keir?” Nora said, and I glanced over to find her holding out a cup and saucer. I took it from her with a nod, releasing my hold on Molly to take a sip.
“Let’s not talk about me anymore,” Molly said, leaning forward to grab a biscuit.
I cleared my throat as she settled back into my lap, causing her to look at me.
With a sigh, she offered me a bite, rolling her eyes at me when I licked her finger as I pulled back. “Orla, what’s been going on at school?”
“Not much. Busy with assessments. My friends and I are planning a trip to London when we have our next break.”
Molly’s shoulders visibly relaxed when it became clear Orla was none the wiser about her shadow.
“Any boyfriends I need to know about?” Molly asked, making Orla’s eyes dart away from her sister’s face.
“No. Why would you say that?”
Molly peered at me before clearing her throat. “Just asking.”
“Right,” Nora announced with the clap of her hands. “Keir, wouldn’t you love to see some baby photos of Caitria?”
“Mam!” Molly exclaimed outraged, at the same time I gleefully replied, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
It was late—edging past two in the morning—and Molly and I had made our way upstairs to her childhood bedroom. She’d been chatting with Orla for hours until her sister’s yawns became too frequent to ignore.
“You look happy,” I commented.
She turned her sleepy smile to me. “I am. It might be short-lived, but I am happy.”
“Good.”
She opened her mouth to say something more but was interrupted by a quick rap on the door.
Molly pulled it open, and from over her shoulder I could see her mother.
Nora had changed into a short dress that would do nothing to ward off the chill of the evening.
Her hair was unbound, and her make-up was smoky and overdone.
Wrapping her arms around herself, Molly asked, “What’s going on? It’s late.”
“A regular,” her mum replied. “I have to go. Might not see you before you leave in the morning.”
From the set of Molly’s shoulders, I could see that she didn’t like this information. “What about Orla?”
“She’s used to taking care of herself,” Nora replied. “I have to go, baby, but it was so good to see you. You too, Keir,” she added.
“Nice to meet you too, Nora.” I pasted on a smile that hid my true feelings for this woman who was choosing a fuck over her daughter, who had appeared after god knew how many years away.
Molly shut the door with a decisive click, her head bowing for a second before she turned to face me. A single tear streaked down her face, which she wiped away, then her expression shifted to indifference a moment later.
“Jynx—”
“Leave it, Keir,” she snapped. “It’s not your business.”
The muscle in my jaw clenched. The fuck it wasn’t my business. “I take it by your reaction, this isn’t new.”
“No, it’s not new,” she replied in a hollow voice, moving to the other side of the bed and sitting on the edge of the mattress. “My mam worked the streets when my stepfather was around too. He pimped her out. Even after Orla was born, she was expected to be back out there making money for him.”
That fucking piece of shit. “Where is the bastard now?”
She stared at me, her eyes devoid of any feeling. “He’s dead.”
Her words echoed around me; the confession settling into my bones with startling finality.
“Were you the one to kill him, Jynx?” I asked without a hint of disapproval—just pure curiosity—because everything about this woman fascinated me.
Molly fidgeted with the hem of her sweater, avoiding answering my question.
“My little murderess,” I laughed with a huff.
We weren’t too different after all. When I’d called Gael earlier, it was to do some digging about a break-and-enter gone wrong, in which a man had ended up beaten to death. Gael had told me he remembered that case. The daughter had fled, which implied her guilt. A daughter named Caitria.
“He had it coming,” she murmured. Then, as she lifted her eyes to my face, I saw the hatred she still bore for the man whose life she took. “He deserved his fate.”
“No doubt he did.” Stretching out on the bed, I rested my hands behind my head and crossed my legs at the ankle. “Tell me everything.”
The whole time I was getting settled, she stared at me like I’d grown two heads. “You don’t think I’m a terrible person for killing him?”
I snorted. “Why would I? Since I’ve killed more people than I can count. Do you think any different of me?”
“No. But you’re a clan member, it’s expected.”
I shrugged. “Did you enjoy killing him?”
She blinked, considering my question. “No, I didn’t.”
“Well, I don’t enjoy killing either. It’s a necessary evil in my line of work.”
“This wasn’t in the line of work, though. It was me meting out justice.”
“What did he do to you?”
She shook her head. “It wasn’t about what he did to me. It was what he was going to do to her.”
“Her?” I asked, then realized. “Orla.”
Molly dipped her chin in acknowledgment.
“What did he do?”
She inhaled deeply, then let it out. “He used to come into my bedroom at night when my mother was out working to earn him money.”
My anger reared its head so quickly that my head spun. “He touched you?”
Molly’s eyes flicked to me before resettling on her hands.
“Not at first. He said he just wanted to watch me sleep. Then he would take out his dick and stroke himself while he watched me. Eventually, he asked me to take off my clothes, told me it was our secret. Something special just for us to do together. I didn’t want to take off my clothes, but he threatened to tell my mother I was the one who wanted to see him touch himself. ”
“I want to exhume his corpse and fucking murder him all over again,” I muttered.
“The watching became touching, and the touching became him…” She hiccuped as the tears finally fell down her cheeks. “The touching became him getting into bed with me anytime my mother was away at night.”
Rage roared through me as my blood hummed with uncaged violence. I wanted to trash the fucking room. Burn down the house. Something— anything —to erase the sadness and shame present in Molly’s eyes.
“That’s why you’re so tense in bed,” I said, remembering I’d told her she was like a corpse. Now I knew why, I felt like a piece of shit for making the joke.
“I don’t like to share a bed with people I don’t trust, and I struggle to trust most people,” she replied, wiping the tears from her face. She rose from the bed, and I worried I was losing her to her memories and shame.
“Where are you going?”
“To get another blanket and pillow,” she said. “I’ll sleep on the floor tonight.”
Like fuck she was. “No.”
“What?”
“Like fuck you’ll be sleeping on the floor,” I told her. “You’ll be staying right here with me.”
“Keir,” she whispered. “I can’t. You know why I can’t.”
“Do you trust me?” It was a demand I had no right to make, but I made it all the same.
“What?”
“Do you trust me?” I repeated, waiting for her reply like everything hinged on it. Fuck, everything did hinge on it.
She dropped her gaze for a moment. “Yes,” she said softly.
“Good. You can be terrified of sleeping beside me, but know I’ve got you. I won’t let anyone else hurt you like that again.”
She eyed me suspiciously, like she wanted to believe every word I said but was afraid to at the same time. “Grady—” she started, shaking her head.
“ Fuck that guy. Now stay in the bed with me.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking as she left the bedroom, and returned a few moments later with a blanket and pillow bundled under her arm.