Impossibly (Dante’s Nine MC #1)(34)
Author: Colleen Masters

“Definitely don’t want to hear about your slew,” I laugh, “But yeah, I don’t know. My parents were really conservative, so I wasn’t allowed to date before college. And once I was out of the house, I just never met anyone who understood me that well. I messed around a bit, but the relationship side of things never came into play.”

“I see,” Declan says, taking a sip of champagne.

“Aren’t you going to say something like, ‘A pretty girl like you should have had plenty of dates’, or some bullshit?”

“Absolutely not,” Declan says, “You didn’t bother wasting your time with horny little boys. Someone as incredible as you shouldn’t have to settle. I admit, it’s giving me a bit of a big head, knowing that you think I’m good enough to keep around.”

I choke on a sip of champagne. Very ladylike, to be sure.

“Come on,” I say, “You have to know what a catch you are.”

“Why, because I’m attractive and rich and drive a motorcycle?” Declan shoots back, “That’s all well and good for picking women up at bars, but not so hot for attracting real, quality companionship. You probably know that better than anyone. What kind of guys have you ended up with, being as gorgeous and smart as you are?”

I think about the pouty Stephen, and the long line of jerks who came before him, and shudder. Everything that Declan’s saying makes sense to me. It never occurred to me that his perfection could be a hindrance.

“I’m sorry,” Declan says, shaking his head, “I feel like I’m not being entirely open with you. I’m playing a bit dumb about your past. That’s just stupid.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, taken aback.

“I have a confession,” he says softly, rubbing his thumb against my hand, “I…know, Kassie. About what happened to your folks.”

“You know…?” I breathe. The terrace seems to spin around me as I take his words in. “But how could you…?”

“I did my research, before our interview,” Declan says, his voice gentle, “The internet isn’t the best secret keeper, is it? There were local news articles, obituaries…I’m so sorry that you had to go through that. I can’t imagine how gutted you must have been.”

“You don’t ever really stop going through a thing like what happened to me,” I say softly.

Before I can go on, a team of servers bustle out through the French doors. Our table is furnished with a beautiful spread. I tamp down my sudden sadness, refusing to let my family’s fate interfere with my happy evening. But Declan isn’t through with his questions just yet. This new, tender topic hangs over us like thick smoke. I guess we have to have this conversation, then. If I’m going to try this being honest thing, I might as well go all the way.

“A stupid accident like that is such a tragedy,” he says, taking a fork and knife to his juicy red steak, “I blame it on shitty construction. There’s no reason something like that should happen in the first place. I mean, a carbon monoxide leak in the middle of the night? With your parents and sister asleep their beds? Someone should burn for that. Probably some contractor trying to cut corners. Who’s enforcing the standards of quality? And why didn’t some alarm go off? Unbelievable.”

“You really did do your research, huh?” I ask, spearing some of my Caesar salad on my fork, “But for the sake of being perfectly open, Declan, there’s a bit of information your missing that you won’t find in any of the articles about my family’s death.”

“And what would that be?” Declan asks, rapt.

“The carbon monoxide…it wasn’t a leak. It wasn’t an accident,” I say, keeping my eyes fixed firmly on the table, “My father let the air fill up with poison. On purpose. He killed my mother and my sister. And himself.”

“Jesus,” Declan breathes, taking both my hands fiercely in his, “Kassie…why would he do something like that? Are you sure that’s what happened?”

“Oh, I’m sure,” I say, struggling to keep my voice even, “He mailed his note to me at UCONN. It arrived the day after the memorial. He wrote to tell me that he would have taken me with them too, but he couldn’t find a way to do it quickly enough. He was so desperate to be gone, to end it all, that he just…left me behind.”

“But why?” Declan asks, “Why was he so desperate?”

“My family was very well off,” I tell him, “My whole life, we’d never wanted for money. Both of my parents inherited wealth, and my father was a daring investor. But it turns out that his investing was really just high-stakes gambling. That was all well and good when things were going his way, but I guess that at some point, things took a turn for him. Just as I was about to finish undergrad, when the housing market was in shambles, my father’s whole house of cards came falling down around his ears. I found out, once he was gone, that he’d lost everything.”

“You were left with nothing,” Declan says.

“Not a cent,” I shrug, “The life insurance was barely enough to balance out his debts. I couldn’t tell anyone what he’d actually done. I’ve had to listen to people praise my father as a good man, a brilliant business mind. If only everyone knew what he really was. A murderer. A fraud. A selfish, cruel man who kept my mother, sister and I locked away from the world and finally took them away forever. The man who abandoned me in the most devastating way.”

Declan rises and comes to me. He pulls me up into his arms, cradling me against his chest. I press into his firm embrace, my pulse rushing. I’ve never spoken about the true nature of my family’s death to anyone. Not even Kelly. No one knows why I’ve been plagued with nightmares about my poor Rosie, or why I’ve never been able to trust anyone, especially a man. But I believe in Declan. I want him to know every last thing about me.

“I can’t believe you’ve had to carry the weight of this secret,” he whispers, resting his chin on my forehead, “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

“You’re the only one who knows,” I say, peering up at him. I’m suddenly very aware of just how close we are. Our bodies are pressed together beneath the twinkling canopy of lights. His serious, stunning face is backlit by the soft glow. I don’t believe in God or heaven—but in this moment, he still looks like an angel to me.