Inflict: A Novel

Epilogue

Four months later ...

"Here, let me help with that, mate."

Connor grumbled under his breath, frustrated his fingers suddenly seemed to want to behave as if they were too fat to put his cufflinks together properly. "Thanks."

Killian smirked as he easily slipped the diamond studded links into their proper holes, fixed the backs, and let his boss go. "A bit of nerves is normal."

"Is it?"

"Sure."

"Even if a man knows?"

Killian shrugged one shoulder. "Knowing what is right and what you want doesn't make a difference to how it might change things tomorrow, I suppose."

Connor could appreciate that, but he didn't think it was why he was so feckin' restless on his wedding day. "That's not the problem."

"Then what is?"

"A lot of things. A great many things."

Too many things.

His right-hand man barely blinked a lash at his vague omission. "Do you want me to sneak Evelyn across the church for you, so she can calm your dumb arse down before this whole show gets started?"

"That's part of the problem."

"Pardon?"

Connor glanced out the window, noting the light dusting of snow that had started to fall. Evelyn wanted a winter wedding, in a proper Catholic church, with a ceremony that matched the day and her beliefs. He still wasn't one-hundred percent sure on the whole God thing, but he loved her, so he gave her whatever the feck her black heart desired.

After all, it made his black heart keep beating.

He was more than happy to play the saint in a sinner's cloak for the day, as no matter what, by the end, it would have the same result.

"She doesn't have anyone to sneak away from," Connor said. "Not a father waiting; not a mother fussing. No friends fixing her dress or whatever. She's very alone—though she never says a word about it—but I know, Killian."

"She isn't alone," his friend argued, "she has you."

And her daughter, too.

Connor still wondered if it was enough.

"And quite frankly," Killian said, glancing over his shoulder at Connor as he headed for the door, "you are more than enough to have to deal with on a daily basis; like a whole crazy family in one insane package. She doesn't need more. Who the feck does, where you're concerned?"

Connor grabbed the closest thing he could find, which happened to be an innately designed vase that was probably expensive, old, and important to the church. He didn't think about any of those things as he threw it at the back of his best friend and right-hand man.

"Feckin' gobshite," Connor snarled.

Killian's laughter rung out as the vase shattered on the door when he slammed it closed. His voice was muffled behind the door, but Connor still heard it. "I can't help it that it's true, you prick."

"Come back here and let me hurt you for that one, arsehole."

"Nope."

The bastard ...

Killian was just lucky that Connor needed a best man for the day.

Connor could kill him on another day.