Carol Ericson - Eyewitness

“Do you recall more now that you’re here in Coral Cove? In this house?” With me?

He steepled his fingers and peered at her over the top of the juncture. “I do. The memories come slowly. That’s why I made my way back here after I escaped…from the hospital. I wanted to remember slowly, gradually.”

“I want to help you remember.”

Kieran seemed to sink farther into the chair, the dusk creeping over his shoulder, masking his face.

“You have your own problems right now. You don’t need me to burden you with more.”

His return had already constituted a problem for her. Something close to anger percolated in her belly. Then she pressed a hand against her stomach. She never in a million years thought she’d consider the return of Kieran-her fiancé, her love, the father of her child-a problem.

She eyed the dark man across from her, his face still, unreadable. If he wouldn’t stay for her help, for her, would he stay for his son?

Flinging her hands in front of her, she tried to dissipate the heavy air between them. “It wouldn’t be a burden, Kieran. You’re halfway to remembering almost everything…halfway to knowing everything about your life.”

“I can’t pick up where we left off.”

His words twisted the knife in her heart, the knife he’d plunged there when he didn’t recognize her on the beach. At this point, would he even want to know he’s a father?

“I’m not expecting us to pick up where we left off, Kieran. It’s been over four years. You’ve changed. I’ve changed.”

“You’ve moved on with your life. You thought I was dead.”

She nodded, afraid to blink and dislodge the tears burning behind her lids. In truth, she hadn’t moved on with her life. She lived and breathed Kieran every day through his son. She hadn’t slept with another man in the entire time after Kieran’s disappearance. She could hardly drag herself out on a date.

“We all thought you were dead. I-I’m relieved and so happy that you survived.”

His lips twisted. “Did I?”

“You’re alive.”

“I am.” He shifted in the chair as if to remind himself. “And you have your whole life ahead of you with your son. Are you married? Divorced?”

Uh-oh.

“No.”

Kieran’s hands curled around the arms of the chair. “You never married Michael’s father?”

“No.”

His body stiffened, the relaxed slouch replaced by planes and angles. “Where is he, Michael’s father?”

“Don’t you know, Kieran?”

“No.” He shot to the edge of his seat, his muscles coiled and ready for flight.

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

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.