Stripping Her Defenses Read online

  With nothing left to do other than swallow my pride, I nodded my head in his direction. “I appreciate what you did for Kara, looking out for her like that. I’m not going to explain our shit, but I will tell you that I’d rather eat a bullet before I ever hurt her again. She may not be what I was looking for when I came here, but she’s exactly what I needed to find, if you know what I mean.”

  Ice nodded in understanding. “Good enough. Now let’s get the fuck out of this room before we both grow vaginas and start crying or some shit.”

  And with that abrupt change of subject, the gruff battle-hardened warrior that was the Regulators’ President got up and walked out the room, expecting me to follow him.

  I did, but not because I felt obligated to do so. No, I followed him out because he was leading me back to the one person I’d follow anywhere in the world.

  Kara.

  Chapter

  10

  Kara

  I’m a coward.

  That was easy to admit after what I’d pulled on Riley last night.

  I knew he’d been expecting for us to talk after my show, yet I had run out of that club like my life had depended on it as soon as I’d left the stage. I knew Coal, the Regulators’ Vice President, had been extremely disappointed I hadn’t stayed and made some rounds on the floor. I get business is business—I was there to do a job, getting paid damn good money for it—but I couldn’t stay and face Riley yet. When Coal had seen me start to cry, he had immediately asked if there was someone he needed to put to ground.

  That had only caused me to cry harder.

  I’d never want Riley to face more of that after the showdown with Ice and Hammer in the back. I’d quietly told Coal there wasn’t a need for that; I simply couldn’t stay for the rest of the night.

  Coal was a gruff, quiet, all action and no talk, kind of man. In fact, him asking me if he needed to put someone in the ground was probably the most I’d ever heard him speak. Although I knew he was trying to comfort me in his own way, the comment had been more than disturbing. Under that gruff exterior lay a good man. He’d always been nice to the girls here at the club, and I was aware he probably would have taken someone out in a heartbeat if I’d told him someone had hurt me.

  Riley might have hurt me during our marriage, but I’d hurt him far worse during and after it. The guilt of that truth was why I couldn’t face him last night. I needed a little time to get myself together, figure out what I would say and how to apologize. However, more than that, I needed to figure out how to tell the man I loved that he needed to give up whatever notions he had about us working out and then walk away.

  I was certain some women would call me crazy for trying to push Riley away. After all, who wouldn’t want a man like Riley solely dedicated to them? A man who loved a woman so much his hands trembled when he saw her. Who would break down a door and face down armed men for the chance to speak with her.

  Once upon a time, I had that man. The problem was, my fairy tale had turned into a nightmare, and a good portion of the reason why was my fault. Dayona, my psychiatrist for the last seven and a half years, would tell me for the hundredth time that I was being too hard on myself. That I shouldn’t try to shoulder the blame for something I hadn’t known about or could possibly have comprehended at the time. I tried my best to listen to her when she told me not to carry the blame and guilt I felt, although it was hard to do. If only I had truly understood what had been going on with me then as I do now. Perhaps I could have gotten some help after I lost the baby and salvaged my marriage before it had been too late. But between my anger at Riley, my grief over losing my son, and my hormones being all over the place, I couldn’t bring myself to care enough to get professional help after getting out of the hospital.

  Depression is a bitch like that.

  Depression doesn’t care if it sends you spiraling into uncontrollable moods with irrational thoughts that made it hard for others to deal with you. Depression with added abandonment and daddy issues was a double dose of a psychological nightmare. However, depression with an extra side of ‘perfectionism disorder’ on top of abandonment and daddy issues proved to be the perfect combination for the slow, tragic death of my marriage.

  During my marriage, I’d blamed all of our problems on Riley and his desperation to put distance between us by volunteering for missions in addition to his mandatory ones. Now, I understood that, while Riley taking off all the time hadn’t helped our problems, his habit of taking off hadn’t been the real problem.

  I had been the problem.

  Apparently, I’d been suffering from moderate bouts of depression that slowly, but surely, had sucked the life right out of me. I had been a robot moving from one day to the next; gradually drowning under emotions I hadn’t understood. The uncertainty in myself and my life had exacerbated my underlying issues about my father abandoning my mother and me. Paranoia over Riley leaving me had begun to skew my thoughts on how I could keep him home and happy with me.

  If only I’d realized those crazy June Cleaver ideals of mine had pushed him away instead of pulling him to me. If only I’d realized something was off about my moods and thoughts, then I could have gotten some help for the perfectionism disorder combined with my depression. If only I hadn’t lost our son, I wouldn’t have spiraled into a serious depression that caused me to make irrational decisions, such as leaving my husband.

  Sometimes, I felt as if the ‘if only’s’ of my life would be the death of me.

  Dayona said I can’t focus on my past mistakes, though. I had to forgive myself and move forward. I did my best on the moving forward thing, even if I was still working on the forgiveness part.

  My psychiatrist also told me that it was okay to be mad at Riley for leaving me so often. Although I feel more guilt when it came to Riley, than anger. At times, the animosity did rear its ugly head. I might have had my problems, but I had needed my husband. I had needed the man who had vowed through sickness and health to stand by me.

  Dayona liked to point out that perhaps, if Riley had known about my depression and perfectionism disorder, he would have stood by me. The bitter piece of Kara buried deep in my memories wasn’t so convinced she was right.

  All in all, seeing Riley had brought back up all of my regrets and resentment. Last night, I couldn’t handle that. Today, as I sat here at my kitchen table, nursing my first cup of coffee, I was determined to find the words to heal the wounds I’d caused and send him on his way.

  I’d just taken another sip of my coffee when there was a loud banging knock against my door. Cautiously moving towards my apartment door, I grabbed the baseball bat I kept by the entrance for safety and then looked out the peephole to see who it was. My breath caught in my chest as I took in the frown on my visitor’s face while he waited for me to answer. Taking my eye away from the small glass opening, I laid my forehead against the cool wood of my door and silently cursed.

  It could be worse.

  But it was still really damn bad.

  Another round of loud thumps rattled my door, startling me, and then Declan’s loud voice shouted through.

  “I know you’re in there, Kara. Answer the damn door.”

  There was a time I had looked forward to hearing my former brother-in-law’s voice. He was a great storyteller and had told the best jokes as we had all sat around his Grandpa Pat’s kitchen table for family dinners. This time, his voice didn’t sound so friendly.

  His fist hit my door again, this time so hard I was amazed he hadn’t broken it down. “Dammit, Kara! This is complete bullshit, and you know it. Open this fucking door!”

  I stood there, debating my options. I could sit here and ignore him. He’d have to go away eventually. Or I could open that door and start the process of facing my past.

  To be honest, I didn’t want to talk to Declan. He was no longer my brother-in-law, and while I did feel remorse for skipping out on not just Riley, but the rest of the Sullivan family, I didn’t feel obligated to explain myself
to Declan. Riley deserved an explanation, so Riley would get one.

  I squared my shoulders, preparing myself for the famous Irish Sullivan temper because I wasn’t going to answer that door, when fate handed me a giant kick in the ass.

  Old Mrs. McGillicutty.

  “Young man, if you don’t stop raising a ruckus, I’m going to call the police on you! Obviously that young lady isn’t home or doesn’t want to talk to you, so take your derriere out of here.”

  Oh, sweet Jesus, that old woman was at it again. Old Mrs. McGillicutty had to be pushing eighty, yet that didn’t stop her from butting in to everyone’s problems. So far, I’d managed to avoid her motherly nagging because I led a quiet life. The other neighbors around us, though? Not so lucky. I’d seen her giving one of our other neighbors, Brent, a hard time for not holding the door open for his girlfriend. She’d lectured him for forty-five minutes on how men these days didn’t have any manners or knew how to be a gentleman. Poor Brent had opened the door for his girlfriend every day since.

  Declan would never know what hit him when it came to Mrs. McGillicutty.

  “Ma’am, I’m sorry if I disturbed you this morning,” Declan apologized sincerely.

  “Posh, young man. I don’t want to hear your excuses; I want to hear your footsteps as you leave. Go on now, get going. If you don’t go, I’m sorry to have to say that I’ll have to make you leave.”

  Oh boy. This wasn’t good.

  Mrs. McGillicutty was about to break out her black belt Tae Kwon Do. Literally.

  The old woman had bragged for six months straight after earning her black belt down at the seniors’ community center. Now, she acted like a vigilante from time to time, threatening to beat up anyone who didn’t pick up their dog’s poop from the apartment’s grassy areas or anyone who had the nerve to litter in the parking lot.

  Looking up to the ceiling, I asked whoever was up there for a freakin’ break. First Riley last night and now this. Could it get any worse?

  Walking back the couple of steps towards the front door, I could picture Declan’s incredulous face as he processed the old woman’s threat. Declan had been a seal with his brother, and it wasn’t everyday a battle trained seal was threatened by someone who could be their grandmother.

  I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

  I opened the door, still holding my bat, and blocked the doorway so Declan couldn’t just walk in. I might be saving him from bad-ass Mrs. McGillicutty, but that didn’t mean I had to let him into my home.

  He turned to look at me, still too shocked by the itty bitty woman with silver blue hair wearing her white Dobak and glaring at him like he was a nuisance to society.

  I wasn’t so convinced about Declan being a nuisance to society, but he’d always been a nuisance to women in general.

  Mrs. McGillicutty leaned over until she could look around Declan at me and then asked, “Is he bothering you, precious? I’m still warmed up from practice down at the senior center, and I can probably front snap kick his posterior down the stairs and out of here.”

  Declan snorted, looked at me to see my one eyebrow raised in a ‘Are you stupid’ look, and then he looked back to my elderly neighbor in confusion.

  Whipping his head back around, he whispered, “She’s serious?”

  I didn’t get a chance to answer.

  “You’re darn tootin’ I’m serious, young man! Don’t you look down on me because I’m a woman with wrinkles. I’ll have you know you’re looking at the Dade County 60 and Up Tae Kwon Do 2014 Champion. That means not only can I kick your rear end, I can do it without needing any arthritis cream afterwards!”

  Apparently, I shouldn’t have asked fate, God, or whoever the hell it had been listening to me if it could get any worse. It just had. I had to save the big bad seal idiot from a little, old lady.

  Grabbing Declan’s arm, I pulled him backwards, until he was standing in my apartment. Looking back at Mrs. McGillicutty, I apologized, “I’m so sorry, Nancy. This is just a misunderstanding. I’ll straighten it out and send him on his way. This won’t happen again.”

  She didn’t look very convinced with my plea. “You don’t put up with any of his nonsense, Kara. If you need me to kick him out, I’ll be here.”

  I heard Declan snort a laugh behind me, and as much as I didn’t want to see my former brother-in-law, I had to agree with him over the hilarity of the situation.

  Doing my best not to laugh, I reigned in the smile threatening to spread across my face and managed to keep it to a small tilt of one side of my lips. The old woman’s eyes narrowed on the action, and I replied hastily before I accidentally managed to piss her off.

  “Thank you so much, Mrs. McGillicutty. I promise I’ll let you know if I need you. Hope you have a good day!”

  Giving her my most sincere smile, I walked back through my doorway and closed the door behind me. After that little episode, I’d decided Mrs. McGillicutty was the shit, and I wanted to be like her when I grew up.

  Propping my bat back up against the corner by my door, I turned to face Declan who popped up an eyebrow as he looked at the bat.

  “I didn’t think this neighborhood was that rough. Surely you don’t need to use that with the bad ass ninja living across the hall from you?”

  It was my turn to snort. Shaking my head, I replied, “No, it’s not a rough neighborhood. That doesn’t mean, as a single woman living alone, I shouldn’t take precautions when answering my door.”

  He nodded his head. “Good thinking.” He then gave me a meaningful look and said, “Glad you’re taking care of yourself. You damn near worried us all to death when you disappeared on us, Kara. I thought Grandpa Pat would have a heart attack.”

  Throwing my hand up in the direction of his face, I snapped, “Stop the madness already. You’re so full of shit. Grandpa Pat was healthier than some thirty-year-olds when I left, so don’t bother to tell that lie again. Looks like some things haven’t changed. You’re still throwing around your ‘I’m an expert interrogator who likes to fuck with people’s heads’ persona.”

  Crossing his arms over his chest, he gave me a disapproving look. “Grandpa Pat might have been healthy as a horse—hell, he still is—but the stress and heartbreak from having his ‘wee Kara’ disappear after losing his great-grandson aged him twenty years over night. You forget you weren’t just married to Riley; you were married to his family that loved you, too. But I guess, if you can abandon the man you love, the rest of us were easy to leave behind, as well.”

  Oh… low blow.

  Perhaps I deserved it; nonetheless, it was very painful.

  Crossing my own arms over my chest, I looked down at my red painted toe nails, avoiding Declan’s penetrating stare. This was why I hadn’t wanted to talk to him. I didn’t want to face the fact that I’d hurt more than Riley. Denial seemed like a great place to live sometimes.

  A strained silence fell between us. My mind was blank. I was struggling to find the right words to say since I still firmly held onto the belief that Riley would get my explanation and no one else. Maybe down the road, after I’d settled things with my ex-husband, I could muster up the courage and energy to write Grandpa Pat and his wife a letter explaining why I’d done what I’d done, but I was nowhere near that yet. It might seem selfish or bitchy not coughing up explanations for everyone right away, but I did have my reasons for it.

  You see, I didn’t suffer from depression every moment of every day of the year. There were certain things, such as facing bad memories or too much stress, that could trigger the depression. Once a depression cycle started, though, it was almost impossible to pull myself out of it on my own. There was no ‘running the course’ with depression the way one did with a cold. No, once that chemical imbalance started in my body, nothing short of medication could balance me out again.

  As a result, not talking to the rest of the Sullivans was me cowardly avoiding a situation that I worried might trigger a serious depression cycle. Because, after I gave them m
y apologies and the ‘why’s’ they were looking for, they would want to talk about him.

  I still had a hard time talking about him.

  My little boy.

  Moreover, as if talking about my little boy wasn’t hard enough, that subject always brought me back to another heartbreaking topic.

  I couldn’t have any more children.

  The accident had scarred me so badly inside and out that I’d never be able to carry another child. Therefore, in essence, everything I’d wanted in life had been ripped away from me the day of the accident. My little boy, my future chance of other children, and my temporary sanity, which eventually led to the loss of my husband because I’d pushed him away.

  “You ran out on him again last night. Do you know what that did to him, Kara? Do you know that he damn near tore that entire club apart looking for you? He almost got into a physical altercation with the Regulators’ Club President, Vice President, and Sergeant At Arms because they wouldn’t give him your contact information.”

  God, I bet Ice was ready to strangle me by now. And what had I done to poor Riley? But wait? What had Declan just said?

  Raising my head, I glared at Declan. “If they didn’t give you the information, then how did you know to come here?”

  Raising his hand, Declan tapped his fingers a few times against his lips as he narrowed his eyes at me, analyzing me. God, I hated when he did that! It was like he was seeing through flesh and bone into your soul. Into the very heart of a person. It was one of the reason’s Declan had excelled as an interrogator for the Navy.

  Dropping his hand back to his crossed arms, he murmured, “Let’s just say that our new job comes with considerable perks, such as an intelligence officer whose sole job is to give me whatever information I request, no questions asked.”