Carol Ericson

Eyewitness


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for flight.

      “He’s sitting across from me. You’re Michael’s father.”

      Chapter Four

      Her words sucked the air out of Kieran’s lungs. He’d seen it coming at him like a runaway train, at first far away on the horizon, a faint light, a wisp of a dream. Then as the reality drew closer and closer, he’d tried to dodge it until he decided to turn and face it head-on.

      He sipped in a short breath to test the pain. He gulped in another. He slipped a glance at his…son, now stirring from the makeshift bed where Kieran had placed him with a gentleness he could’ve sworn he’d forgotten. A gentleness borne from the fact that the boy belonged to her…and now him.

      “I’m sorry, Kieran. I didn’t mean to break it to you like that.”

      He trained his eye on Devon, her blond hair gathering the light from the single lamp. Her eyes sparkled with tears. She’d tried to hide her emotion from him all day, but he could see that his reappearance had thrown her into turmoil.

      “Sorry?”

      “Mommy?” Michael rolled from the love seat and padded toward Devon on bare feet. He crawled into the chair next to her and stared at Kieran.

      His son.

      Did the boy fear him? He had every right to fear him—a stranger more scarred on the inside than the outside.

      “Are you hungry, Michael?” Devon ruffled her son’s dark hair, so like his own.

      He’d seen the resemblance almost immediately. How could he not? He’d pushed it away, denied it, almost hoped Devon would lie to him and send him on his way.

      But Devon didn’t lie. He knew that about her. He could always trust Devon.

      And now? Could he trust her to do the right thing for her son and keep him away from a damaged man so filled with rage he had no room for love? A man whose civility had been ripped out of him, tortured out of him?

      “Yeah, I’m hungry.”

      She spread her hands. “I suppose Colin didn’t leave any food in the house, and I don’t think it would be edible after a month, anyway.”

      Kieran cleared his throat. “You don’t have a car.”

      “Do you?”

      He shook his head. You needed a credit card to rent a car, and all he had were a few pieces of ID from the army. You also needed your full vision.

      “How’d you get to Coral Cove?”

      “Planes, buses.” He held up his thumb. “Car.”

      “What have you been eating? Because I know Columbella doesn’t have any electricity or gas.”

      “Fruit, beef jerky, energy bars.” He shrugged. “It’s a feast compared to what I’m used to.”

      The air between them sizzled with unasked questions and unspoken words, but Michael’s intelligent dark eyes switched from his face to his mother’s while they talked.

      The boy didn’t need any more traumas.

      Devon dragged her cell phone out of her pocket and waved it. “We’ll call for pizza. I already have the number for Vinnie’s on speed dial.”

      “Does pizza sound good to you, Michael?” Hunching forward, Kieran gripped his knees.

      Michael snuggled in close to Devon’s body but nodded his head.

      One small step.

      “Then pizza it is.” Devon punched a few keys on her phone. “We’re pepperoni fans, Kieran.”

      She placed an order for two large pepperoni pizzas, salad, garlic bread and soda. Did she think she had to fatten him up? He must look gaunt to her. His appearance in the hospital had shocked him. He would’ve never been a star football player at this weight. And with one eye.

      “Are you sure that’s going to be enough food?”

      Devon laughed and it sounded like wind chimes tinkling in the breeze. He’d heard those wind chimes many times outside his prison walls, the sound shoring him up, giving him strength.

      “Michael eats a lot.” She pinched Michael’s nose. “At least he used to.”

      Her bright smile drooped, and Kieran felt as if he’d do anything to bring it back just so he could bask in its warmth.

      “Seems like you and I both have some catching up to do in the food department, Michael.”

      The boy shot him a quick glance beneath a lock of dark hair and Kieran’s gut knotted. What was wrong with him? Hearing about the death of a neighbor, even a friendly one, shouldn’t have such a strong impact on a kid. Hell, he remembered when his favorite dog died and he’d grieved for about two weeks, which was a week longer than Colin did.

      He sucked in a breath. He remembered. He remembered the dog, Duke, and he remembered the day he died.

      “Are you okay?”

      He glanced up at Devon’s face, lines of worry bracketing her mouth. Hell no. He couldn’t do this to her. Couldn’t take her along on this ride.

      “I just had a memory.”

      She clapped her hands. “That’s great. I’m sure being in this house will help, much more than being at Columbella.”

      “So why did I head there first?”

      A pretty pink tide washed over her cheeks. She shifted Michael and jumped up. “I know there are dishes in the house. I’ll get some bowls for the salad, anyway.”

      “Let’s help your mom, Michael.”

      The boy scooted to the edge of the chair and hopped off, running ahead of Kieran to join his mother in the kitchen.

      “We’ll eat at the coffee table and sit cross-legged on the floor. We’ll make a picnic in the house.” She handed Michael a stack of bowls with a handful of paper napkins on the top, and he turned and took measured steps back to the living room.

      Kieran sidled next to Devon at the sink, inhaling her floral scent. “When did you find out you were pregnant?”

      The shoulder touching his pulled away. “Soon after you left on your mission. There was no way to reach you then.”

      She finished rinsing the forks and stuck them in the dish drainer. “I thought I’d have a surprise for you when you came home.”

      “Did you tell my parents? My brother?”

      “No. I wanted to wait and tell them with you. When we heard, when we thought… Your parents were devastated and Colin just about broke down. I couldn’t tell them about Michael then. I didn’t know if it would make things better or worse for them.”

      “Were you alone?”

      She sniffled and then grabbed a paper towel to dry the forks. “Oh, no. My mom had come in from Florida and Dylan was nearby. Do you remember my twin brother, Dylan?”

      “Nope.”

      “Plates.” Michael had returned to the kitchen, holding out his arms.

      Devon dropped a hand to his head. “Tell you what, sweet pea, let’s use the paper plates from Vinnie’s. That will be more fun…and less work.”

      Michael tugged on Devon’s arm and she bent over. He put his lips to her ear and cupped his hand against her face, which flushed with color.

      “Kieran’s my friend, sweet pea. This is his house.” She handed him the forks. “Now go put these on the napkins next to the bowls.”

      As he scooted out of the kitchen, Kieran turned to Devon. “Is he afraid of me?”

      She looked