Page 88 of Broken Blood Ties

Allie leads me down the narrow upstairs hall. At the far end, Aoife’s door is shut, and I have the strangest urge to open it and check on her. With the click of the doorknob to my right, Allie slides the mahogany door ajar and waits for me to pass her through the threshold where she remains.

A queen-sized mattress is propped up on a vintage spindle frame. The slender wooden dowels are a rich wood, carved intricately to allow for an airy look. Moving forward, I trail my fingertips over the white waffle duvet, and when I glance down, an ugly floral rug compresses under my feet. Besides the dresser matching the stain of the bed, there’s no other furniture in the room.

Allie gestures to a narrow tri-fold door. “The bathroom is through there. Shower, sink, and toilet. If you need a tub you’re welcome to Aoife’s across the hall.”

I peek in. “This is great. Thanks.”It’s much bigger than what I’m used to, I want to say.

“I know you’re without additional clothes, so I pulled some down from the attic where, uh … where Kieran has a few things he saved from Aoife’s mother, Laura.”

My eyebrows raise.

“It’s not what you think,” she blurts. “He was saving them for if and when Aoife wanted to know her mother, feel close to her despite her absence.”

Something cold slithers into my heart punctuated by my not so gentle closing of the bathroom door.

I muster a “thank you,” and Allie smiles, closing the door.

Padding over to the dresser, I open it, glimpsing a silk pajama set. It’s simple baby pink pants and a long sleeve shirt with ruffled ends, but I shove the drawer closed. I’d rather sleep naked than wear the same clothes as the woman who abandoned Aoife. It was thoughtful, but I’m not sure I can see Kieran overly thrilled about me wearing them.

I shuffle on my feet, too wired to dive into bed, yet too nervous to open my door and wander around the house.

Settling for the window, I move toward it and pull back the curtain to stare over the grounds. I figure I must be facing the back corner of the house. A stone firepit sits off to the side, built up from the cobblestone driveway that wraps around into a patio. Ash-gray chairs with curved backs settle around it, and I lean forward ever so slightly, dreaming of the balmy fire I picture in there.

Time passes. I’m not sure how much, but after examining the gobs of cameras, and counting the number of times the guards pace the gate before moving back to check the monitors, my legs buckle. I’m tired of standing.

After brushing my teeth with the new toothbrush left for me, I do my best to wash my face and comb out my hair before stripping off my clothes and pulling back the sheets.

As I slip into them, my mind flutters with memories of Kieran’s words.Ye want me in yer bed.Well now I’m in his bed. Well, one of them. Since I’m not inhisbed, this will have to do.

My hands graze my exposed belly button, and my mind conjures images of him several feet down the hall. He’s so close. That almost kiss on the yacht a couple of days ago haunts me, but everything had to go and get all complicated. What would’ve happened had we shared an intimate moment? Would I have left? What if I hadn’t been compromised by Marco? Would I have eventually come clean to Kieran? I like to think I would’ve. What about him … would he have opened up and shared his true nature with me?

Ugh. Jeez.

After squeezing my eyes shut, I imagine his breath as it feathers across my neck. Goose bumps prickle over my arms and legs, stinging against the satin sheets I’m tangled in. I choke down a groan and turn over.

My heart churns and I listen in the dark as thethump, thump, thumpof my chest slows, and I drift off to sleep staring at the door.

Chapter27

Kieran

Allie’s footsteps echo down the stairs, spurring me to muster the strength to rise from the kitchen island and drop my mug into the sink. I pinch the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. Damn.

“She’s all settled.” Allie pops into the kitchen, then leans against the refrigerator. “Anything else you need?”

“No,” I answer, moving past her and out the kitchen.

“I-I hope it’s okay I gave her some of the clothes you had boxed away from Laura. She didn’t have any and I figured she’d want something clean to put on after she got out of the shower.” Allie follows me as I start toward the steps.

Internally I groan, the image of Summer in the shower, one of my showers, bludgeons me over the head. But then the words “clothes” and “Laura” shake away the thought like it’s a design on an Etch A Sketch.

That’s all I need, Summer thinking I held on to Laura’s clothes because I’m not over her or hung up.

After our short tryst ended and she left Aoife, I wanted to burn all the items she left behind. Sat there with the lighter in my hand and the clothes piled high in my clawfoot tub. But as I stared at the tiny baby in my arms, I thought maybe, just maybe, one day she’d ask about her mother. Despite the bitterness and hurt from Laura not wanting to be part of her life, Aoife still might want to know about her.

So I saved the few outfits she’d left in my drawers, the picture booth strip of photos we took one night while she was drunk, and the pregnancy test she chucked at me the night she found out Aoife was a tiny bean inside her.

While it’s not okay, I’m not the mood to reprimand Allie. “It’s fine. Good night.”

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