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Cara went around the bed and put a shaking hand on Kieran’s shoulder. He tensed at her touch, as if surprised by it. She bit her lower lip. “The doctors say this most recent surgery was the last thing they could try,” she said. Kieran frowned up at her. She met his gaze. I pondered them, and how, exactly, they’d weather this shitstorm life had thrown at them.
“Guess I’ll be the first Lucasville High principal who can pop wheelies in the hall,” he said, his tone light, his gaze back down on the bundle in his arms. My brothers formed a half circle around him and Cara. Tears ran down her flushed cheeks.
“I’m so sorry, Angelique,” she said. “I just can’t seem to stop.”
I held out my hand to her. She grabbed it, sending me straight back to the long night after the attack, when she and I and my mother huddled together in a waiting room, seemingly unable to let go of one another.
My brother had saved a lot of lives that day. And had been shot three times, once in the spine. He was alive, thank the Lord, but only barely for the first few hours. He would probably not walk again.
I talked with Cara almost daily throughout my pregnancy, which dovetailed with Kieran’s many surgeries and recoveries. Our bond was strong after that horrific first forty-eight hours.
Plus, I sensed her need to have someone who loved Kieran as much as she did who would listen to her darkest fears. He barely slept unless on strong medication, thanks to constant nightmares. He berated himself over the kids he didn’t save. His own kids were scared of him anymore. He’d hardly even look at them, much less let them near him in his “condition.”
I spent a lot of hours talking with Mama and Daddy and Margot and Cal about how best to help him and Cara. Kieran once told his wife he wished he’d died, according to her, when she’d called, apologizing all over the place for bothering me. Death, he claimed, would be better than living as an impotent cripple.
I’d been so furious at that, I’d marched, huge pregnant belly and all, into the room where he’d taken to moping around every day. I slapped him on the face, hard, twice.
He’d sat silent, taking it, his eyes full of frustrated tears, fists on his unfeeling legs. “I can’t … be a man any more. Don’t you get that? Doesn’t anyone in this family fucking get this new hell I have to live in now?”
“You are more man than any male in the universe, Kieran Francesco. And if I hear tell of you breathing another word about wishing you were dead, I’ll … well, I’ll kill you my own self.”
I had to sit then, winded and dizzy with fury. I tried to take his hands but he kept them balled up on his denim-clad thighs. “You saved people’s lives, honey. And we got to keep you, in spite of it being touch and go for days. You are alive, Francis. And we all love you, each and every one of us. Most especially your wife and your children.
“If anyone can handle this,” I put my fists on his thighs alongside his, “it’s you. Get your stubborn ass to that PTSD specialist Margot found for you. Rejoin the family. We are sick of hearing you whine.”
He’d rallied some after that, Cara claimed. But just a week later, I went into early labor and spent several days in the hospital, hooked up to various drugs, praying harder than ever that I wouldn’t lose the baby, despite Cal’s calm reassurances to the contrary.
Now I looked into my brother’s eyes. “You all right, Ginger?” He gri
“Yeah. I will be, I think.” He took his wife’s hand, and then glanced over his shoulder. “Who’s got wheelie duty?” Dom grabbed the wheelchair handles, dropping Kieran back so far Cara yelped and put a hand over her mouth. Kieran laughed. And of all the sounds in the world, I was never more grateful to God for letting me continue to hear that one.
My father and brothers all trooped out. Cara followed after pressing her lips to my forehead. Cal got called away by a nurse, leaving my mother standing next to me, her firm, strong hand on my shoulder.
My tears plopped onto my baby’s face, making him flinch. “Life’s not fair,” I said to him.
“No, it’s surely not,” she said, taking little Kieran from my arms in a preemptory ma
I stopped listening then, as she described her latest worry about one of her grandkids.
Finally, she put the now-squawking bundle into my arms. “Feed your boy, Angel. He needs you more than anyone else does now.”
The End.
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Try one or more of these:
The Love Brothers Series
Love Garage (The Aiden/Rosalee Story)
Coach Love (The Kieran/Cara Story)
Love Brewing (The Dominic/Diana Story)
Safe Love (The Antony/Margot Story)
Coming soon….True Love: Life Goes On
The Stewart Realty Series
Floor Time (ebook free at all retailers)
Sweat Equity
Closing Costs
Essence of Time
Conditional Offer
Escalation Clause
Mutual Release
Good Faith
House Rules: The Jack Gordon Prequel
The Black Jack Gentlemen Series
Man On
Red Card
Shut Out
Hat Trick
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Turkish Delights
Blue Cruise
Tulip Princess
The Diplomat’s Daughter
Flower Passage
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Paradise Hops
Cheeky Blonde
Honey Red
Vegas Miracle
Lust on Tap
Healing Hearts
Caught Offside
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