I went back to the bedroom and quickly dressed in sweatpants before leading them into the kitchen. Kennedy babbled a mile a minute about everything under the sun while I cooked. I never knew until now how kids questioned everything they saw. When I was finished, I spooned the food onto the plates and carried them to the table where Sheldon blew raspberries in Kennedy’s neck.
While she was preoccupied, I took the opportunity to do the same to Sheldon’s whose neck was exposed. She jumped in surprise and Kennedy laughed outrageously.
“Daddy, silly.”
I stiffened at the sound of the word, and I could tell without looking that Sheldon had the same reaction. I finally mustered some motion and turned to face Kennedy’s bright grin shining toward me. She squealed and clamped her hand over her mouth as if she’d just told some big secret.
“Did you tell her?” Sheldon’s accusation only served to piss me off before I could revel in the idea that my kid knew who I was.
“No, I didn’t but does it matter? I am her father unless there is something you’d like to tell me.” I knew it was bullshit as soon as I uttered the words, but I wanted to strike back. Kennedy was mine. Every single inch of her was me.
“She can’t know.”
“It looks like she does,” I smugly replied.
“She’s three, Keenan. It means nothing.” Her eyes flashed deviously when she sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. “She thought Keiran was her father once too, you know. Right around the time she began to talk…” The smile that appeared on her lips hurt worse than the bullets that almost took my life.
I counted the seconds it took me to realize that what I thought I heard her say was real.
I wanted the anger.
I wanted to rage.
I wanted blood .
But all I could feel was devastation.
Kennedy had known someone else as her father.
So where did that leave me?
“Get out.” She flinched at my command, and if my daughter had not sat watching, I would have thrown her out on her ass.
“I’m not leaving without my daughter.”
“Fine. Then get out of my sight before I lose what little control I have left and snap your neck.”
“Don’t talk like that around my daughter.”
“GET THE FUCK OUT, SHELDON!” I gripped the counter until my nails dug into the granite because, while I may have lost my temper, I still held a feeble leash on my control.
Kennedy was now crying and watching me as if I were going to hurt her next, and I never wanted that. I watched Sheldon with pure hatred flowing through my veins as she reluctantly left the kitchen.
“Mama.” Kennedy held out her hands for her. Sheldon turned back for her, but my look stopped her. I let go of all the warmth from mere moments ago. She deserved the hard, cold exterior, not the person on the inside clawing to get out and save her from me.
When she was finally gone, I turned to Kennedy, who now watched me with sad eyes. My own reflected back and I could feel the slump in my shoulders. “I’m sorry you had to see that, kid.”
I’d lost my appetite so I contented myself with watching her eat her pancakes once she calmed down. She wasn’t her usual talkative self, which made the atmosphere awkward, so when my phone rang, I welcomed the distraction.
“Keenan, you need to get here now.” Keiran’s gruff voice filtered through the phone before I could speak, but he sounded off. He sounded scared.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s your father.”
“My father?” John… or Mitch?
“John,” he clarified as if he could read my mind.
“What does he want?”
“He was shot, man, and it’s not looking good. Get here.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SHELDON
KEENAN HAD ALL but thrown us into the car without a word of where we were going and why. More than once, I had to ask him to slow the car and remind him that Kennedy was in the backseat, but he never responded. He would just grip the steering wheel tighter and let off the gas until whatever plagued his mind returned and then he would gun it again.
We made the eight-hour trip in just less than seven and went straight to the hospital. I still had no clue what was going on, but I knew someone close must have been in trouble judging by the look of terror and pain etched all over his features.
I grabbed Kennedy and chased after Keenan, who had parked in the emergency lane and ran into the building. He was at the reception desk, rattling the poor nurse who scrambled to find what I assumed was a room number.
While she was preoccupied, I took the opportunity to do the same to Sheldon’s whose neck was exposed. She jumped in surprise and Kennedy laughed outrageously.
“Daddy, silly.”
I stiffened at the sound of the word, and I could tell without looking that Sheldon had the same reaction. I finally mustered some motion and turned to face Kennedy’s bright grin shining toward me. She squealed and clamped her hand over her mouth as if she’d just told some big secret.
“Did you tell her?” Sheldon’s accusation only served to piss me off before I could revel in the idea that my kid knew who I was.
“No, I didn’t but does it matter? I am her father unless there is something you’d like to tell me.” I knew it was bullshit as soon as I uttered the words, but I wanted to strike back. Kennedy was mine. Every single inch of her was me.
“She can’t know.”
“It looks like she does,” I smugly replied.
“She’s three, Keenan. It means nothing.” Her eyes flashed deviously when she sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. “She thought Keiran was her father once too, you know. Right around the time she began to talk…” The smile that appeared on her lips hurt worse than the bullets that almost took my life.
I counted the seconds it took me to realize that what I thought I heard her say was real.
I wanted the anger.
I wanted to rage.
I wanted blood .
But all I could feel was devastation.
Kennedy had known someone else as her father.
So where did that leave me?
“Get out.” She flinched at my command, and if my daughter had not sat watching, I would have thrown her out on her ass.
“I’m not leaving without my daughter.”
“Fine. Then get out of my sight before I lose what little control I have left and snap your neck.”
“Don’t talk like that around my daughter.”
“GET THE FUCK OUT, SHELDON!” I gripped the counter until my nails dug into the granite because, while I may have lost my temper, I still held a feeble leash on my control.
Kennedy was now crying and watching me as if I were going to hurt her next, and I never wanted that. I watched Sheldon with pure hatred flowing through my veins as she reluctantly left the kitchen.
“Mama.” Kennedy held out her hands for her. Sheldon turned back for her, but my look stopped her. I let go of all the warmth from mere moments ago. She deserved the hard, cold exterior, not the person on the inside clawing to get out and save her from me.
When she was finally gone, I turned to Kennedy, who now watched me with sad eyes. My own reflected back and I could feel the slump in my shoulders. “I’m sorry you had to see that, kid.”
I’d lost my appetite so I contented myself with watching her eat her pancakes once she calmed down. She wasn’t her usual talkative self, which made the atmosphere awkward, so when my phone rang, I welcomed the distraction.
“Keenan, you need to get here now.” Keiran’s gruff voice filtered through the phone before I could speak, but he sounded off. He sounded scared.
“What’s going on?”
“It’s your father.”
“My father?” John… or Mitch?
“John,” he clarified as if he could read my mind.
“What does he want?”
“He was shot, man, and it’s not looking good. Get here.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SHELDON
KEENAN HAD ALL but thrown us into the car without a word of where we were going and why. More than once, I had to ask him to slow the car and remind him that Kennedy was in the backseat, but he never responded. He would just grip the steering wheel tighter and let off the gas until whatever plagued his mind returned and then he would gun it again.
We made the eight-hour trip in just less than seven and went straight to the hospital. I still had no clue what was going on, but I knew someone close must have been in trouble judging by the look of terror and pain etched all over his features.
I grabbed Kennedy and chased after Keenan, who had parked in the emergency lane and ran into the building. He was at the reception desk, rattling the poor nurse who scrambled to find what I assumed was a room number.
