Fearless (Broken Love, #5)

“We have a real chance of having the charges dropped for good. We wouldn’t want to set him off now,” was all the reason he’d given when I’d asked why.

Once I left the police station, I called Keenan who had been blowing up my phone nonstop since the kidnapping. After he had calmed down, he barked an order to stay put so he could pick me up. Since Dash had been shot here in Summit’s hospital garage, Keenan was able to get to me quickly.

“This is all so fucked,” he breathed after I repeated the story to him. He took in my appearance and agreed to take me back to Six Forks where I could shower and rest. He told me Kennedy was staying with a neighbor to watch over her since Sheldon’s parents were out of the country. I was thankful I was able to stop Greg before I led him here to look for money that didn’t exist. At least not in a safe.

It was late, but once he dropped me off with the order to rest, he picked up Kennedy, thanking the neighbor, and then took the four-hour drive back to Summit, leaving Ken with me. I thought he was crazy, but I knew he wouldn’t stay away from Sheldon when she needed him. I put Kennedy to bed and took a long hot shower before finding one of Keiran’s old tees and crawling into his old bed. I remembered so many things about this bed—some terrifying and others exhilarating. I drifted off to sleep thinking about my younger, tortured Master.

The next morning, I borrowed a pair of shorts and a t-shirt from Sheldon and then fed Kennedy while answering a million and one questions ranging from the whereabouts of her parents and how long I can hold my breath underwater.

I was finally able to hustle her out the door but was stopped short by an elderly couple on the front porch. They were looking around as if lost before settling their gazes on me simultaneously.

“Uh, hi. Can I help you?”

“Oh, dear, I think we have the wrong house,” the lady spoke up. “I’m Wendy and this is my husband, Daniel. We’re just looking for our grandsons. Could you help us?”

“I’ll try. What are their names?” I didn’t know these people but something about them being here felt strangely eerie.

“Keiran and Keenan Masters.”



*



PRESENT



Keeping Keiran on ice for one day was like asking a pot of water not to boil. I had no idea what had him so high strung. For the rest of the day, he watched me as if I had killed his father all over again. Thankfully, he disappeared with Keenan the next morning and didn’t return until early afternoon, giving me some time to put a plan into action.

I’d told Willow and Sheldon about Wendy and Daniel the day they appeared, and they agreed it would be better to wait until the dust settled. Since Dash was out of the hospital, I figured now would be the best time to introduce them to their grandparents.

They arrived just before Keiran and Keenan got back, so when they walked in and were greeted by strangers, the tension noticeably grew.

“Shelly? Why are there strangers in our living room?” Keenan’s tone wasn’t playful or mildly curious, and Keiran was already studying the couple with suspicion.

Sheldon looked like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar so I decided to answer him, but then Daniel spoke up.

“My name is Daniel and this is my wife, Wendy. We have been anxious to meet you two.”

“Why?” Keiran asked, ever the suspicious one.

“Because, young man, we’re your grandparents.” I could tell by Wendy’s tone that she didn’t appreciate his rudeness, but I warned them when they showed up a week ago it wouldn’t be so easy to walk into their lives.

“That doesn’t answer his question,” Keenan remarked.

“I can see the young lady didn’t exaggerate how intense you two could be. You’re just like your father when he was your age.”

Bad move.

Bad move.

Bad move.

“We’re nothing like him,” Keiran growled.

“We know all about what Mitch has done, and I can understand why you resent him—” Keenan snorted, interrupting her. “I’m not finished speaking,” she snapped and he had enough sense to look contrite. “As I was saying, I understand your resentment, but I wasn’t speaking of my youngest son. I was speaking of John. He may not have been either of your father’s biologically, but he took you in, provided for you, and loved you whether you choose to believe it or not.”

“Are you getting to a point?”

“You will show my wife some respect,” Daniel reprimanded this time. “I can see while my oldest son provided for you, he hasn’t taught you much in manners.”

“He was too busy staying away to care what we did. As I recall, you two were nowhere to be found, so I repeat—why are you here now?”