Vengeful Secret (The Burkes Mafia #3)

12. Gray

12

GRAY

The beeping of Da’s heart monitor is actually slightly comforting as I watch him sleep. It makes me know he’s still alive, that his big heart is still pumping.

I watch him sleep, worried in the back of my head that one of these days, he’ll never wake up. But the doctors say he should be resting more than anything else, that his heart has grown weak from the damage, and it’ll take time to build it back up.

Marisol is cooking him a low-salt dinner every single night, which Da complains about, but this time, as she brings it in, he opens his eyes and cracks a smile.

“Pasta?” he asks hopefully.

“Yes, but no sausage,” she warns, and he groans.

“Beef?”

“Ground turkey.” She places the plate in front of him. “But it’s close enough, you won’t know the difference.”

“Then why even tell me?” he mumbles, but he’s smiling at her like she hung the moon.

“Don’t like to lie to you, Patrick.”

He hums and nods.

She leaves the room, and Da yawns, looking at me seriously.

“How are you, Gray?”

“Fine.”

My father narrows his eyes. “If you were fine, you wouldn’t be in here watching an old man sleep.”

I shift in my seat, having forgotten my father’s ability to read all of us. It’s disturbing, really.

“I have a friend and her daughter moving in here,” I say, not wanting to move them in without him knowing. It’s his house, after all, and just because he’s injured that fact doesn’t change.

“Oh? What friend?”

I grit my teeth. “Sutton McIntyre.”

Da looks at me blankly. “Don’t think I know any McIntyres.”

He wouldn’t. Not her. I never told anyone about us.

“They’re from out of state.” I pause. “But she’s a friend, and she needs my help.”

“Murphy?”

I shrug. “I’m not sure. Someone’s been following her, so she’s just moving in for protection.”

Da nods, taking a bite of his pasta. It must not be too bad, because he takes another fork full right after the first one.

“You know it’s always the more the merrier here.”

I smile, loving my father’s generosity.

He continues, though, surprising me. “You don’t have to always keep everything together, Gray. You know that, don’t you?”

My chest feels tight with emotion I can’t quite name. “But someone has to, Da.”

“You have three siblings who can help. Lean on them all you want.” He takes a deep breath and then coughs.

I think it sounds too deep in his chest, but since he’d had lung damage from the bullet, they’re recovering as well as his heart.

“I’m sorry that all this has fallen on you, a stor . I know it’s a lot.”

“It’s fine.” And most of the time, it is. Most of the time, I can keep it together. But the last couple of weeks… Something’s changed, and I’m not quite sure what it is.

“You look pale and tired, son. Is there anything I can do? Any weight I can take off your shoulders?”

I sigh, shaking my head. “There’s no big fight right now. It’s just trying to figure out what Murphy’s game is and what he wants from us.”

“He wants us all dead.”

I nod. “That’s true, but I don’t know when or where or how he’s going to strike.”

“That’s always the hard part.” Da leans forward with a wince to pat me on the hand. “But you’ll figure it out, Gray. You always do. And you can ask any of my men for help.”

The problem is, not many of Da’s men actually know how bad off he is. I’ve only told a select, trusted few. I don’t want dissention in our own ranks due to my father’s injury.

I don’t want to tell Da that, though. The words that come out of my mouth next startle me.

“I don’t know if I can do it. I don’t know if I’m ready, if I’m good enough. What if?—”

“Don’t start with the what ifs, boyo,” Da drawls in his Irish brogue. “You’ll never get out of the hole you dig for yourself with those. You’re doing an amazing job.”

He points his fork at me. “And don’t think I don’t have my own little spies around. I have more than just you and my other kids to update me.”

I chuckle. “Of course, you do.”

“Damn straight. I know what’s going on in my own clan, and you’re doing well, Gray. Never forget that you’re my eldest son. I knew when I had you that you’d really make something of yourself. You can take over all of this when I die.”

My throat goes tight. “You’re not going to die.”

“All men die, son. Some of us just make it to old age.” He chuckles.

I smile, our short conversation making me feel a lot better, somehow. I stand up, and my father chews, pointing at me with his fork again.

“Be sure to get some of this heart-healthy pasta. It’s really good. Marisol can cook anything.”

“She can.” I laugh as I exit the room.

Marisol walks past me into it, and I know they’ll sit and talk for a long while.

Marisol makes him happy, and I wish he’d let her do it in the open.

Maybe he’s worried about Lara and Paige. Surely, he knows that Declan and I already know and understand, but Lara and Paige were closer to our mother.

They might see it as a betrayal.

The intercom crackles. “Boss, Ms. Sutton is here again, and she has a wee one with her.”

“Let them through.”

I walk outside, standing on the porch to watch her drive in.

She pulls in and instantly, her little girl climbs out of her seat, waiting for her mother to open the back door. She appears to be around three or four years old.

I’m curious about the daughter, wondering who the father is, wondering what it would have been like if we’d had a child all those years ago.

Sutton gets out of the car slowly, almost like she’s regretting coming here.

I frown.

I know that Sutton has always been nervous about the life I lead, but surely she knows?—

The little girl turns, her face illuminated by the dying sunlight, and I lose all train of thought.

She is a spitting image of her mother, curly, golden brown hair, her face so much like Sutton’s… Except for one detail. Her eyes. My eyes. Exactly the same color.

My heart starts to pound in my chest.

No way! This cannot be happening.

Sutton wouldn’t do this to me. Wouldn’t keep this from me. She wouldn’t lie to me. Would she?

The little girl walks up to me. “Hi. I’m Ciara, who are you?”

I can’t think. All I can do is look at her. At those eyes that are a mirror of my own.

I want to ask her how old she is, do the math, but I can’t.

“I’m Gray.”

“Like the color?”

“Exactly like the color.”

“Guess what? My name is gray too, only mine is in Irish. My name is Ciara Liath, so my name is the same as yours.” Her smile is huge.

“Ciara Liath? That’s a beautiful name.” I look over at Sutton, hoping for some kind of explanation.

Anger and confusion rush through me. The girl even has my name.

How has she kept this a secret from me? Didn’t she think I would know instantly?

Ciara is mine. She has to be around four years old.

Sutton’s kept her from me all this time. Lied to me for the past five years.

I look down at the little girl that has my eyes, my name, shell-shocked.

“Thank you.” She sways back and forth, wearing a little flowered dress that looks so adorable it tugs at my heart strings. “Can I get in your pool?”

“Not tonight, mo stóirin ,” Sutton says, finally speaking, her voice a bit hoarse. “Let’s go inside, get settled.”

Sutton glances up at me, and there’s clear guilt on her face.

She walks up the steps and past me, following her daughter inside.

My daughter.

If she thinks she’s going to get away with not talking to me about this, she’s got another thing coming.

“Marisol!” I call as soon as I enter the living room. Marisol hurries into the living room, a frown on her face as she wipes her hands on her apron. It’s more of a bark than just a simple call, so she’s clearly worried.

“What’s wrong?”

I try to relax my face and my tone. “I was wondering if you could watch Ciara for just a few moments. She might be hungry.”

Marisol’s face softens as she looks down at the little girl. “This must be the little girl I bought chicken nuggets for.”

“I love chicken nuggets.” Ciara smiles widely as Marisol takes her hand.

Sutton watches Marisol take her away, biting at her lip, and I take her arm, ushering her up the stairs and into my study.

I’m a little rough with her, and I feel guilty about it when she wrenches away, looking up at me as I shut the door.

“What the fuck is going on?” I’m unable to keep the anger out of my voice.

“Gray, listen to me?—”

“That’s my daughter .” I pace around the room, my head spinning, my heart aching. “That's my daughter, and you’ve kept her from me.”

“I know,” she says quietly. “And I’m sorry. But what was I going to do, move in a newborn to the Burke mansion?”

“And why not? You’re moving her in now!” I exclaim, turning to face her.

Sutton looks away and then back up at me. “Can you honestly say you could have taken care of a newborn five years ago? That we could have what, just been a family?”

“We could have,” I say, but it sounds weak even to my own ears.

Things had been different back then. I loved her, but I’m not sure I was ready to settle down and be a father just then. But that’s just the thing. I’ll never know, will I? I was never given that option.

“Could we? Your life is too dangerous with your shipments and your enemies always gunning for you, looking for any way to destroy you. I’m even worried about being here now, but when she was just a baby?”

Sutton’s right, and my anger is slowly changing to something else—to a fierce protectiveness I didn’t know I could feel.

I always thought I’d never want to protect anyone more than my siblings, but now… Now I have this beautiful little girl with my eyes, and if anyone hurt her…

I’d bury them six feet under.

“You should have told me,” I choke out, and Sutton looks up at me, her blue-gray eyes filling with tears.

“I’m sorry. At the time all I could think about was protecting the little life growing inside me. And that meant leaving you. She was all that mattered. Still is. That is why I am here now.”

“I know nothing about my own daughter. Her favorite food, her favorite color, when she took her first steps, her first word. I missed all of it.”

Sutton swallows visibly. “Her favorite color is green, and her first steps were when she was only ten months old. She’s been running around crazy ever since.”

She steps forward and takes my hands in hers.

“I'm so sorry that I didn’t tell you, Gray. I loved you, but I had to protect her. Please try to understand. I’d do anything for my daughter. And maybe it was the wrong decision, but it was all I knew to do at the time.”

Love, regret, anger, all warring within me as I stare down at the woman who gave me the biggest present in life but ripped it from me in the same breath.

My mind tells me to hate her. To never look at her again. To yell at her.

But at the same time, my heart screams for her. To hold her tight. To keep her by my side forever. Tells me that my protective instincts are now rival only to hers.

In the end, the heart wins out, and I crush her into my arms, hugging her tightly.

“We have a daughter,” I whisper, and she puts her arms around me, rubbing my back as I almost break down.

My shoulders shake, but I manage to keep it together, pulling away from her. “No one’s ever going to hurt her, Sutton. Not ever.”

I mean it, but I’m not sure I can ever forgive Sutton for keeping my baby from me.