47. 47
Killian
I invited my family to Aria’s. Harlow’s nervous, but damn, she looks good in that dress. It’s hard to believe things are going so well. I didn’t know I could feel happy again.
This time, being at this restaurant is better. I can touch Harlow’s leg under the table because she’s mine. My ex isn’t here. My family will see I am better.
My parents seem stiff. Jagger shows up with a big grin, and River arrives without Nina. I don’t ask why. After what Harlow and I discussed, I’m relieved she isn’t here.
We hug each other and take our seats around a circular table.
I don’t mince words. I don’t want to.
“I’m sober still,” I start.
“That’s what you said on the phone,” Dad replies, appearing skeptical.
“For how long?” Jagger asks.
“Three weeks.”
Everyone nods, clearly unimpressed — except for Mom.
“I’m glad, honey. You look good.”
“Thanks.” I grab Harlow’s hand. “I have other news. Harlow and I are getting married.”
A collective gasp is sharp and sudden.
Everyone stares. I scrunch my brow.
“I’m gonna stay sober,” I assure them.
“Congratulations,” murmurs Jagger, forcing a smile.
“Why is everyone acting like this?”
“We are just surprised, honey.” Mom’s face is a sheet of white. “I wish you would’ve told us.”
“I am telling you.”
“Before,” she says softly.
“It’s a big decision,” says Dad.
“I know.”
River sets down his wine and shakes his head.
“Please, Dad. This is what you wanted. The golden boy will get married.” He mutters bitterly, “God knows you don’t want to help with my wedding.”
Golden boy?
I prefer favorite.
But River’s comment reminds me of the other thing. I need those trust payments restarted, or Harlow won’t quit her job.
“It is best if you are sober longer, Kill,” says Dad, ignoring River.
“Why?”
He ignores me as well and looks at Harlow. “Don’t you think it best Killian not rush into life-changing decisions when he has only been sober for three weeks?”
“Well, uh, we’ve known each other a lot longer. I’m good for Killian. You said that yourself.”
“As his sober aide.”
“Yes, but as his wife, I’ll be there more. That will help him.”
“It always does,” I say.
“Codependency,” grumbles Dad.
“Clark,” whispers Mom, “take it easy. This is a celebration.”
Her smile doesn’t match her eyes. I guess we’re pretending again.
“I assume there will be a prenup,” says River.
I squint at him, surprised that he would suggest such a thing.
“Yes,” agrees Dad.
“Good, because if Nina has to sign a prenup for me to keep my trust, Killian better make Harlow sign one.”
My mouth hangs open. I don’t look at Harlow. I don’t want to see her upset. This is supposed to be a happy occasion.
“What if I die? I want Harlow taken care of,” I say, genuinely concerned.
“That won’t be long,” River mumbles.
“What the hell does that mean?” I belt across the table.
“Calm down, honey,” soothes Mom. “We can talk about finances later. We should celebrate.”
“Thank you,” I say, exasperated. At least she gets it.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” Dad shifts his chair so he’s facing me. “She will sign a prenup, and I want both of you living with us.”
“Oh God,” groans River. “Why do you guys have to coddle him? He’s a grown man.”
Now River is making some sense.
“Harlow will pick out where she wants to live.” I glance at her and smile. She returns a weak smirk, but it’s undeniable she is uncomfortable. Poor girl.
“Is that what you want, Harlow?” asks Dad.
“It won’t be anything fancy. I told Killian I’d like another park model. My place... it burnt down.”
“Park model. What is that?” says Mom.
“It’s like a single-wide trailer, but without wheels.”
“A trailer!” she says, aghast. She yanks her napkin off her lap and tosses it onto her empty plate. “That’s it! My son will not live in a trailer.”
“Why?” hisses River. “You don’t give a fuck that my house is in foreclosure. I’ll be homeless soon.”
“You didn’t budget,” grumbles Dad.
“And Killian’s a crack-head, but the second he says he’s sober, you’re ready to turn his money back on,” he counters.
I guess it is not a good time to ask for my trust back.
Dad doesn’t back down to River.
“Killian has never spent more than he receives.”
“Ha! That’s because he gets Asher’s trust payments. It makes zero sense that Jagger and I are paid less than him.”
“Don’t drag me into this,” Jagger says.
“It’s true!” River huffs.
Mom leans closer to him. “Keep your voice down. You’re embarrassing us.”
“Oh! Oh, no! Killian, your drug-addict son doesn’t embarrass you, but I do!”
“Shoosh!” she hisses.
“Hey,” I say, stunned by his comment.
“What, Killian?” River snarls. “Do you think you’re better than us because your twin blew off his head?”
A glass flies across the table and breaks against my plate. Wine splatters across my face and shirt.
“You fucked my fiancée!” River says.
I freeze.
He knows.
River stalks around the table towards me, fists tight and ready to fight.
“Stop it!” screams Mom, who pulls on his shirt, trying but failing to hold him back.
I’m on my feet, palms raised as I back away.
“Listen, I didn’t know Nina was your girl at the time,” I explain.
“Horse shit! Guess what? She left me this morning. She told me everything as she walked out the door. I had to hear it from her — not my own brother.”
I stumble but stay upright. “She was at the same party. I swear I didn’t know her name. It meant nothing.”
“Nina wouldn’t be in the same slums you hang out. You obviously brought her there.” He takes a swing.
I duck, barely missing his fist.
“Will you forgive me?” I say.
The question slips out before I can stop it. Suddenly, I’m back in the room with Asher — to the moment he said, ‘Sorry’ before shooting himself.
He didn’t finish the sentence. Asher should’ve said ‘Sorry, will you forgive me?’
A fist slams against my head as I’m brought back to reality.
“I don’t want to fight you,” I say.
“Too fucking bad. She left me because the money dried up. Mom and Dad give it all to you, the goddamn baby of the family.”
Another swing.
Tha-rack!
A fist hits flesh and bone, right against my father who darted between us at the last second.
“Fuck!” says River.
Dad bends forward, cradling his face. “Damn it, River! See what you did? You’re tearing our family apart.”
I glance at Harlow.
She’s gone.
My heart sinks. I rush around the table, checking in every direction. Mom shouts my name. I run out of the restaurant, calling out her name.
There, sitting on the curb, Harlow cries.
Cautiously, I sit beside her, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and bringing her close.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“Maybe this isn’t the right time,” she says, her voice cracking.
I grip her tighter. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that.”
“Well! Look how your family reacted. Clark’s right. No reasonable person would recommend you marry having been sober for less than a month!”
My heart is about to break through my ribs.
“Please stop talking like this,” I beg.
She looks into my eyes. Instantly, she sees the panic. Her hands cup my jaw, and her thumb strokes my scar.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m just stunned how badly that went.”
I shrug, because the only thing that matters is her. River will survive a cheating ex and broken brother. I survived.
I lean in, softly kissing her lips. I part my mouth, desperate for more. God, I love this woman.
“Hey, fucker,” calls River from behind us.
We both look over our shoulders. River stands several yards away.
“Daddy had to save you again, Kill. Every room has always bent around you. Even my engagement became another part of your fucking tragedy. Payback’s a bitch.”
He pulls a small gun from his waistband. The barrel stares back at us.
Crack!
Light explodes from the end.
Crack!
Crack!
I flinch. I blink. My arm’s wet.
Harlow’s shot. Her blood is gushing out from her back and onto my arm, which still clutches her body tightly.
Crack!
“You took my fiancée,” River says. “Now I took yours.”
I’m up, leaving Harlow to stop River from further unloading his gun. I body slam against him. He falls to the ground. River’s head flies back, hitting the concrete sidewalk with brutal force. The gun is knocked from his hand and slides a few feet away, creating the sound of metal scraping concrete.
I push up. His eyes are wide open. Blood pools beneath his head.
Holy shit.
Harlow!
I spin and rush toward her. She’s bleeding everywhere.
“Baby? Baby! You’re okay. Fuck!” I fumble for my phone, dialing for help.
I scream into the phone the location. “Arias! Hurry. My fiancée’s been shot!”
Dad, Mom, and Jagger step out of the restaurant. Dad rushes to River, assessing the damage.
“Jagger!” I call, my voice unlike I’ve heard before. “Save her!”
He hesitates, no doubt wanting to help his brother first.
“He shot her! She’s innocent. Help her,” I plead.
He took the fucking oath, and sure enough, he jogs over.
Jagger drops beside her and presses two fingers to her throat.
“Weak pulse. She’s barely breathing.” He looks at the phone in my hand. “Put it on speaker. Tell them multiple gunshot wounds to the torso.”
“There’s so much blood? Make it stop,” I say.
“She needs a trauma team. Keep pressure here and don’t move her.”
Harlow releases a wet, rattling breath. Then nothing.
Jagger checks her neck again. His face changes.
“I lost her pulse.”
He locks his hands over her chest and starts compressions.
My phone screen glows. The operator is talking, but I’m not listening. Far in the distance, sirens carry.
“Good. They’ll save her,” I whisper.
Her eyes are...
Just like moments ago in the restaurant, I’m thrust back into the room with Asher. That same feeling spreads in my chest like a cancer. The same gut-wrenching moment I saw Asher’s eyes hold no life.
“No. I’ll get the car!” I stand up, digging in my pocket for keys.
“Killian! The ambulance is coming.”
I run to my car several aisles over. The tires squeal against the pavement. I turn the car sharply, hitting the curb.
When I get out, Dad is kneeling beside River. Jagger is still over Harlow, driving both hands into her chest.
Her body moves only when he makes it.
“Her eyes are as dull as Asher’s,” I mumble.
The sirens distort. The parking lot tilts beneath my feet.
“No, they’re not. Her eyes are fine, bro.”
I look over. Asher stands beside me.
Harlow steps around him. She has no bullet wounds. No blood.
“She’s free,” he says. “See.”
My gaze jumps between Harlow lifeless on the concrete and the one beside Asher.
“You’re dead?”
Harlow nods, but doesn’t look scared.
“Come with us,” Asher says. His gun appears in his hand. He holds it out to me.
The world cuts out.
When my eyes reopen, I’m running.
I don’t stop.