Total pages in book: 260
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t have proof until Kat’s place got broken into.” A heat breaks out across every inch of my skin as I look at Kat. “I didn’t tell you, but I found two bricks of coke in your guest room. The same stock he had me moving during the bust. He knew Cill was getting out and he planted it and was going to wait for the perfect time.” I look back to Cill.
“It had to be Eamon. He was the only one with a key to the stock. He planted it at Kat’s place and I bet his plan was to take me down as I was moving it, and then to get you for possession, blaming it on me. Then we’re both out of his way.”
I don’t even know if what I said makes sense to them. If they’ll connect the dots like I did. “It sounds fucking crazy, but it’s the only explanation.”
My pulse races, praying they believe me. I almost add that he’s why I let Kat go. Eamon is why when she broke down and told me she couldn’t ever see me again, that’s why I let her back away. If she stayed close, he could see her as a threat too.
I was still there for her. Still someone she trusted and I would be there any time she was in need, but at a distance.
I can’t bring myself to speak about her, though. There’s too much that’s already been said.
“Say something, man,” I plead after a long moment of silence. “I’ve felt like I’m going fucking crazy and paranoid for a year now. Ever since your pops died.”
“You think my uncle sold out my father, his brother?” Cill’s voice breaks when he adds, “You think my uncle killed him?”
There’s a long moment of staring into my best friend’s eyes, telling him something there’s no way in hell he’d want to believe and having no evidence at all, only a gut feeling. “Yeah.”
“No.” He’s quick to deny it, shaking his head. Kat, though, she stares back at me, realization clear in her gaze. “No, you’re wrong.” I hear the betrayal in his voice. I felt the same thing when I figured it out. The Cavanaugh MC wasn’t about backstabbing bullshit and stealing power. It was about the bikes, and goddammit, the family. Founded by two first-generation brothers and their buddy Finn, something like this … it’s soul shattering.
“I know it’s hard to believe, but–”
“They were supposed to have each other’s backs.” He stabs his finger on the table, emphasizing his point. Readjusting in his chair, he starts to say something and then stops.
And then he does it again, choosing his words carefully. “My uncle was supposed to be the example. He’s supposed to take care of all of us. And now you’re telling me he’s turned? You’re telling me he killed my father?”
“I think he—”
“That’s one fucked-up thing to say if you don’t know–”
“Yes. They fought and then your father died suddenly of what they said was a heart attack, but the autopsy didn’t confirm that. Then Missy started poking around and she died. He lied, said she left but I know she’s fucking dead. Everyone who goes against him disappears and I know it was him who broke into Kat’s house. I know for a fact it was him.
“I don’t have evidence of everything, but I know he planted evidence in her home.”
“What did you do with it?”
“The coke? I dumped it.”
“When did you start thinking he killed my father?”
“It was only a thought a year ago when he died, but then it made sense when Missy disappeared. I just … I didn’t want to believe it.”
Cillian
Every memory I have of my uncle flashes before my eyes as I watch Kat and Reed share a glance. The fear that lingered in his gaze turned to comfort the moment he saw she was worried.
I don’t miss the way she speaks to him, with a tone and submissiveness I once thought she held only for me. And with the expectation that he’ll make it all okay. That he’ll fix it. That he’ll keep her safe.
“My uncle …” When I clear my throat the two of them stare back at me, and Kat’s quick to place her hand in mine. I pull it under the table, squeezing it tight.
With a heavy breath, Reed looks between the two of us. I’ve never seen him look the way he does. I know four years changed us both, and neither of us for the better.
“It was just too much, too heavy … for it to be true.”
“What you’re saying …” I can’t even finish a fucking sentence. Something deep inside of me is screaming that it makes sense. That ever since my father died and my uncle didn’t even come in and see me, ever since then I knew.