Epilogue
MAEVE
A FEW DAYS LATER…
The cold air nips at my cheeks and nose, but I hardly feel it. My toes are frozen inside my boots, and my fingers are numb. Wrapping my coat closer, I’m hidden under the large umbrella that keeps snowflakes from dusting my eyes.
The priest drones on ahead, as snow swirls around our waists.
Surrounded by a group of mourners, reading from his Bible, his words are bleak and dull.
He makes grand gestures about Heaven, Hell, and salvation.
None of those things will offer consolation to Nico or Lex, or any of their family, currently grieving the loss of Maria.
She was their leader at one point. When Nico ruled, Maria kept the family together. She was their glue and offered those lessons to Sloane as she readied to become more. Without Maria, the family feels a profound void.
I don’t have the energy to interrupt—not like I did at Pops’ funeral. I made snide comments, and the priest stumbled over his place. Pops didn’t deserve any blessings. He deserved to rot in Hell until his screams turned to ash.
Glancing over the casket, I see my second and Collins at the corner.
Locked together, they blend into the mourners.
Ironic since Hayes is a bulging mass of muscle, and my sister carries herself with a fine grace that exudes in this horrible atmosphere.
This isn’t their place—neither knew Maria well—but I know this is Hayes’ doing.
It’s his quiet support, reminding me I’m not alone in my grief.
Pivoting, I scan my baby sister and her husband at the head of the group.
Her round belly protrudes from the jacket, and although she’s windswept and exhausted, she glows against the grey skies.
Lex, by comparison, looks like he was hit by a bus, though not a hair is out of place.
Still dapper, still handsome, it’s the sorrow in his eyes that ages him.
He lifts his gaze from the brown box, locking eyes with me. I give him the smallest nod—an act of sympathy, of understanding, something—and his shoulders droop. Whatever he sees helps, and that’s all I wanted to do.
It doesn’t absolve the guilt in my chest, a crushing feeling I can’t escape. Maria is dead because of me, in a box, decaying with time, because of my actions. I dragged them in—forced their lives, their family, to become collateral. If I had just?—
“Piccola,” Nico murmurs next to me, adjusting the umbrella. Blinking, I shift, turning my head. “Don’t let it consume you.”
Snorting softly, I shove my pink fingers into my jacket. The cold isn’t enough to block the emotions. Not like usual.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, chewing on my cheek. “If I had thought this through better, she’d still be here.”
Sighing, Nico wraps his arm around mine, and the family whispers harshly around us. I don’t hear their words, but I feel their intent. An old capo touching an Irish captain? No one knows what it means.
“She was the one who told me to talk to you.” He leans heavily against his cane, still not at his full health. He won’t ever be. “The night I found you in the alley. I debated about helping you.”
“It would’ve been smarter to let me die,” I say, slowly. “Fewer problems for you.”
He tugs me back, forcing me to look him in the eye. “It would’ve, piccola. But Maria, she was the one who saw something I didn’t.” He taps my cheek three times, and my heart sinks, as does the rest of my body. Defeat finally wins, and my knees buckle.
,A strong arm wraps around my waist, pulling me flush to his chest. Mint soothes my worries, and I inhale deeply.
“She said to me,” he continues, “What if this is a sign? I thought she was crazy. I’d never tell her that, mind you, but I didn’t understand.
But I knew to trust her. I took you back to our home, and she stitched you up.
” He gazes at my side. “We saw the marks, Ace. And she told me, you needed us. You weren’t going to survive if someone didn’t step in. Because no one else was going to help.”
Killian’s hand flexes against my stomach. “I wouldn’t say no one.”
Nico huffs a laugh, but the tiredness on his face makes me frown.
“You were terrifying when you showed up on my doorstep to collect her. I never doubted your loyalty to the Irish heir.” Holding my hand, he gives it a firm squeeze.
“All this to say, she chose you, piccola. She is the reason we are in this together. Why we have a family to look forward to.”
We look over at Sloane again, her vibrant crimson hair cascading down her shoulder, tangled in Lex’s arm. They are why we came together—to give Lex a family, to keep Sloane safe.
“Do not feel guilt,” he adds. “She wanted this—all this—to happen. And one day, I’ll see her soon.”
The guilt doesn’t dissipate with his words, but the suffocation eases.
Holding me upright, Killian and I turn back to the sermon, but I ignore the words.
They’re falsities of bullshit. No one knows what exists for us when we leave this realm.
Trying to give someone a dream won’t help take the pain away of losing a loved one.
Instead, I concentrate on Killian’s warmth, his strength, and let it sink into my bones, renewing mine. I let his scent fill my lungs; the pressure of his fingers across my belly ground me. Letting my head drop back, he cradles me—a place to rest before I return to battle.
When the priest finishes, Nico moves next to Lex, and the three of them shake hands with those departing.
The Reaper and I move away from the crowd.
It’s better if we’re removed—two dark protectors who take on the evil of the world, the shields of the family.
No one wants to see two people who embody death at a funeral. A bit too cliché.
Sloane wobbles away from them, tugging on Collins’ arm. They stop short before me, the wind blowing against their warm coats.
I stare, but I don’t remove Killian’s hand.
They see it. Sloane’s brows furrow, her ruby lips puckering. Then, something flips inside that cunning mind, and she snorts delicately. “That figures.” At my confusion, she gestures to us. “You two. Like duh, I should’ve seen this coming.”
Collins smirks slightly. “You should’ve seen him when she came in unconscious. He almost killed me to keep her safe.”
“That explains the drinking at my auction.”
“Or the?—”
“Alright,” I interrupt, hand high. “That’s enough.”
They both grin, and it strikes me. Is this what it would be like to have sisters—close siblings who could tease and laugh together? I’ll never be that person. I’ll never be able to escape the darkness of this world that I’ve taken on.
Yet, if there are days like this where I can see glimmers of it, bask in it, I can accept that.
“Lex said the townhouse is ready for us.” Sloane shifts, clinging to Collins for warmth.
Nodding, I cross my arms. “I can have everything brought back?—”
“I want to stay,” she interrupts. Collins stays silent, but those devious eyes shine with understanding.
Hand to her stomach, she rubs it tenderly, and my heart swells.
“At least until after they’re born. Maybe a few months after?
It’ll be nice to have help. Two babies,” she winces.
“I don’t know how to handle one. Two? Yikes. ”
They’re coming any day. She means she wants to stay.
Swallowing, I wring my hands. “I’ll teach you. I spent many nights rocking Briar back to sleep. You too.” God, I sound awkward. “Mama wasn’t really… there.”
That’s an understatement. My mother might have birthed them, but she never cared for them. I spent more nights soothing cries than sleeping. Another reason having my own children seems absurd. I raised my siblings—I don’t need to raise anyone else.
“Yeah,” she breathes, sharing a look with our sister.
“Collins and I have been talking. What it’s like to be a mom.
What we remember. There aren’t a lot of great memories to sift through.
” I flinch, a physical hit at the reminder.
“But we’re starting to realize, maybe everything we do remember—the late-night tuck-ins, the soft hugs, wasn’t from Mama after all. ”
I hold my breath, tense. Killian rubs his hand over my side, leeching away the worry.
Will they know it’s me? That I was the one holding their hands at night, checking their foreheads after fevers, arranging transport to all their events?
But the moment passes, Sloane rolling her shoulders back. “I still expect an apartment. If Collins has one, I want one. And fuck, it’ll be nice to take a sledgehammer to Pops’ precious house.”
Eyes watery, I wipe my nose, huffing out a laugh. “Of course.” Knowing Sloane, she’ll expect a crystal chandelier too. “And when you do decide to go home, it’ll be there, if you ever want to come back.”
Hayes and Lex come up to their respective partners. Tapping me with a brotherly elbow, Hayes pulls Collins back as he slings an arm over her shoulders, and Lex curls Sloane into his side. Another part of their hearts, and it makes a small smile spread across my face.
They’re happy. It might have taken most of my life, but both my sisters are finally happy.
“Ace,” Lex drawls, rubbing his cheek. His stubble is a bit darker. “What am I to do with the man in my office?”
Killian chuckles behind me. “Ah, the boyfriend.”
I elbow him, the end catching his hard abdomen.
He grins against my temple. “Easy, princess. Remember what happens when you hit me,” he whispers.
“I’ll fuck the attitude out of your system in front of all these lovely people, then pluck their eyes for daring to witness you like that. I don’t care if they’re your siblings.”
No, I didn’t forget. Some days, I’m pretty sure I do this on purpose. Killian always makes good on his promises.
My cheeks grow hot—thank God the cold hides it. Turning back to the capo, I nod toward the mourners. “Let me into the club while you all are at dinner. I’ll handle him.”
I have something special planned for him.