“You . . . killed people with a gun?” she asked in disbelief.
I nodded. “I killed monsters who repeatedly abused children.”
She held her hands together in front of her and stared down at the ground. “How many?” she asked quietly.
I wanted to tell her I didn’t know or that it wasn’t a lot. But the fact was, I knew every face. I remembered every moment of the ends of their lives. “Twenty-six,” I replied.
“Twenty-six,” she repeated, as if she was trying to let it sink in. “If you stopped, why did you get shot?”
“Members of a gang that one of my marks was in wanted revenge and tracked me down. Those who still work for Benedetto were trailing them here. That’s why Alexa is here, and that’s how I know her. Cope, too. When they had them in sight, it was my job to go end it. Either I killed them, or they killed me. I killed two of them, and Cope killed one. The last one went down with his finger on the trigger, and the bullet went through my leg.”
She took several steps back until she was leaning against the wall, staring at me.
I wanted to know what she was thinking. The look of revulsion I had feared wasn’t on her face, but she wasn’t OK with this. I could tell that much. But then, I hadn’t expected her to be.
“Will others track you down?”
I shook my head no. “That was an unusual situation. Most don’t know who did the job. The gang knew because of their dealings with Benedetto in the past.”
She ran a hand through her hair nervously. “You could have died.”
“No, I couldn’t have. I went in with backup, and I had a gun. I’m a professional. I was safe.”
“A professional killer?”
That was what I didn’t want her to think. “That’s not what I meant. I knew what I was doing. I was safe.”
“What if more come? What if they hurt Franny?” She covered her mouth and shook her head, as if the idea had just hit her.
I sat up, wincing at the pain in my leg, wishing like hell I could pull her into my arms to reassure her. “No one will ever touch Franny or you. I’d never let it happen. You’re my life, Addy. The two of you are my life.”
Addy backed away, moving to the door. “I can’t,” she said, shaking her head no. “I just can’t.” Then she spun around and ran out the door.
I couldn’t move. She’d left me, and I couldn’t fucking move to go after her.
Addy
He killed people.
I stood in the kitchen, staring outside, with a cup of coffee in my hand, that simple fact running through my head. Franny was safely at school, and I needed sleep, but I wasn’t sure that would ever come again.
I loved him.
That was the other thing I couldn’t get out of my head. I loved him, even still. Maybe more. How screwed-up did that make me? How could I love him more for killing people? Because they were scum who abused kids? Did that make it OK? In my heart, it did. I wanted perverts who ruined kids’ lives to die. Just thinking of someone hurting Franny that way made me furious. If someone were to abuse her, I’d kill him myself.
So did that make me any different?
He told me the truth when he didn’t have to. That was something he never had to tell me. He could have lied to me. He could have made up a story that made sense. Telling me the truth had been big. Huge, even. Which made me love him even more.
I was still sorting it all out. I’d run away from the hospital shortly after River had finished his story. All I’d been able to see was Franny’s face in the moment. The fear that his life choices could hurt her had been too much. She wanted him in our life as much as I did, but at what cost could I let that happen?
Was he right that this was it? No more backlash from his past could threaten him and potentially threaten our daughter? I wanted to believe that and move on, but she was my first priority. She needed me to protect her. Being selfish because I loved River so much I couldn’t breathe wasn’t acceptable. I had to do what was best for her.
But being near her father felt right. I wanted it to be right. To be safe. And I wanted to trust him to keep her safe.
I wanted her to have everything. Stability. A father.
I had wanted River most of my life. He had gotten lost and found a way to survive, and as much as I didn’t support what he had done, it didn’t change the fact that I loved him. I would always love him.