“Daddy, silly.”

I stiffened at the sound of the word, and I could tell without looking that Sheldon had the same reaction. I finally mustered some motion and turned to face Kennedy’s bright grin shining toward me. She squealed and clamped her hand over her mouth as if she’d just told some big secret.

“Did you tell her?” Sheldon’s accusation only served to piss me off before I could revel in the idea that my kid knew who I was.

“No, I didn’t but does it matter? I am her father unless there is something you’d like to tell me.” I knew it was bullshit as soon as I uttered the words, but I wanted to strike back. Kennedy was mine. Every single inch of her was me.

“She can’t know.”

“It looks like she does,” I smugly replied.

“She’s three, Keenan. It means nothing.” Her eyes flashed deviously when she sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. “She thought Keiran was her father once too, you know. Right around the time she began to talk…” The smile that appeared on her lips hurt worse than the bullets that almost took my life.

I counted the seconds it took me to realize that what I thought I heard her say was real.

I wanted the anger.

I wanted to rage.

I wanted blood.

But all I could feel was devastation.

Kennedy had known someone else as her father.

So where did that leave me?

“Get out.” She flinched at my command, and if my daughter had not sat watching, I would have thrown her out on her ass.

“I’m not leaving without my daughter.”

“Fine. Then get out of my sight before I lose what little control I have left and snap your neck.”

“Don’t talk like that around my daughter.”

“GET THE FUCK OUT, SHELDON!” I gripped the counter until my nails dug into the granite because, while I may have lost my temper, I still held a feeble leash on my control.

Kennedy was now crying and watching me as if I were going to hurt her next, and I never wanted that. I watched Sheldon with pure hatred flowing through my veins as she reluctantly left the kitchen.

“Mama.” Kennedy held out her hands for her. Sheldon turned back for her, but my look stopped her. I let go of all the warmth from mere moments ago. She deserved the hard, cold exterior, not the person on the inside clawing to get out and save her from me.

When she was finally gone, I turned to Kennedy, who now watched me with sad eyes. My own reflected back and I could feel the slump in my shoulders. “I’m sorry you had to see that, kid.”

I’d lost my appetite so I contented myself with watching her eat her pancakes once she calmed down. She wasn’t her usual talkative self, which made the atmosphere awkward, so when my phone rang, I welcomed the distraction.

“Keenan, you need to get here now.” Keiran’s gruff voice filtered through the phone before I could speak, but he sounded off. He sounded scared.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s your father.”

“My father?” John… or Mitch?

“John,” he clarified as if he could read my mind.

“What does he want?”

“He was shot, man, and it’s not looking good. Get here.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

SHELDON

KEENAN HAD ALL but thrown us into the car without a word of where we were going and why. More than once, I had to ask him to slow the car and remind him that Kennedy was in the backseat, but he never responded. He would just grip the steering wheel tighter and let off the gas until whatever plagued his mind returned and then he would gun it again.

We made the eight-hour trip in just less than seven and went straight to the hospital. I still had no clue what was going on, but I knew someone close must have been in trouble judging by the look of terror and pain etched all over his features.

I grabbed Kennedy and chased after Keenan, who had parked in the emergency lane and ran into the building. He was at the reception desk, rattling the poor nurse who scrambled to find what I assumed was a room number.

“Keenan, you have to calm down before they kick us out.” He pinned me with a look that would have killed me on the spot if such a thing were possible.

“Yes, John Masters is in room 345. You take a right—” Keenan had already taken off before the lady could finish her directions. I followed at a much slower pace feeling far too numb to move any faster.

Something had happened to John, and I could only guess that it was serious given the severity of Keenan’s mood.

I spotted Lake as soon as I entered the hallway where John’s room was and rushed toward her. She appeared lost in her thoughts. Her gaze was fixed on the wall. I set a sleeping Kennedy on a nearby couch before speaking. “Lake, what’s going on? What happened to John?”

She snapped to at the sound of my voice, and when she looked from me to Kennedy, she broke down and rushed out the events leading up to this moment. “He was shot at a stoplight on the way home from town. The few witnesses say it all happened too quickly.”

“So what are the doctors saying? Is he going to be okay?”

“No, Sheldon. He’s not. He’s bleeding slowly around the heart and the doctors aren’t able to stop the bleeding.”

“Then wh—” No matter how many times I tried, I couldn’t complete it. I couldn’t bring my fear to life. Keenan was going to lose his father?

“He’s going to die and he doesn’t have long. They said it would be in the next couple of hours or so.”

This can’t be happening.

Why is this happening?

“Who did this?”

“I don’t know. Keiran has been in there for hours and hasn’t come out. I’ve never seen him like this. I don’t know what to do.”

“Have you gone in?”

She shook her head and said, “He told me to wait out here.”

“I can’t do that.” There was no way I could stand here and do nothing. I pushed through the door of the hospital room and found Keenan, Keiran, Dash, and Q surrounding the bed with grave expressions. None of them noticed me enter so I stood frozen against the door.

“Tell me who did this,” Keenan demanded.

“I can’t do that, son. I would rather leave this world knowing you two were finally at peace. I don’t deserve to have my death avenged. It’s time I pay my dues.” John’s voice, once strong and deep, was now weak and sickly sounding. The hard, strong man suddenly looked frail.

“What are you talking about?” Keiran barked. “If you deserved to die, I would have done the deed a long time ago.” I should have been appalled by his behavior, but after so many years of friendship, I knew being hard was his way of showing his pain.

“Boys—”

“No, John—dad—fuck!” Keenan visibly struggled with words and the emotions he desperately tried to keep in check. He was fighting a losing battle.

“I am your father, son. I don’t care about the biology.”

It was then that I remembered a paternity test had never been taken even when the question arose. Could John really be his father? With his death, Keenan would never know.

“Just tell us who did this to you.”

“Here is your chance to make it up to us. Tell us who did this,” Keiran pressed.

“Whether he’s guilty or not, I would be encouraging the murder of a man and sacrificing your futures. It doesn’t matter what I allowed in the past. All that matters now is what I do in the present.” He took a deep breath and continued speaking.

“I’ve lived my life with one regret after another, but the regrets I’ll carry with me wherever I go from here is not protecting the two of you and giving you the best of me. I regret not being there. I know I have no right to ask, but I want you two to make me a promise.”

I risked venturing further into the room because his voice was weakening with each word and his eyes grew heavy. The guys didn’t verbally acknowledge his request, but their attention never wavered.