Love at First Fight - A Gallagher Girls Story

Chapter Twenty-One

Flash. It had been a long time since I'd flashed back to that particular memory. A chilly morning on the Potomac, standing at the end of a dock. William Kidd, shaking against the cold and the fear. The sun rising just enough to catch the tip of the blade as it fell from his hand. My shoulder burned at the memory as I tried to forget exactly what kind of pain a dagger could bring, and then I was there, on the dock, looking over Will's shoulder.

At the woman who had shot him dead.

"You," I said. "It was you, wasn't it?"

It wasn't an accusation—I swear it wasn't. It was more like a statement of fact. An answer that I had known, but hadn't exactly realized until I said it out loud. Just like that, I began to feel heavy and weak, and I plopped back down on the Ambassador's sofa. " You killed Will."

Mom nodded, slowly. Like she was going to scare me if she moved too quickly. "Is that what he called himself?" she asked. "I've only ever heard his formal name."

Something inside of me twisted. She hadn't even known his name. "Why did you do that?" I wondered, and maybe the question wasn't really directed at her. Maybe it was meant for the universe.

But the universe didn't answer. My mother did. "He was going to kill you, Maggie," she said. "I couldn't let him kill you."

I had spent many hours wondering how differently things would have played out that morning had Will survived. I had spent entire nights wondering if William Kidd really would have killed me, given the chance. Wasted time, I suppose. I would never know the answer. I wasn't even sure that Will had known the answer. All I knew for sure was that he had been scared, and that he had been desperate, and that desperate fear is one of the world's most dangerous combinations.

And as much as I didn't want it to be true, it was likely that Will would have gotten desperate enough to finish me off, had someone not finished him off first. Had someone not been willing to mark him as an enemy. Dad and Woods and even myself—we'd all thought he was on our side. We'd all thought that he was playing for our team.

Mom hadn't had that disadvantage. She had shown up, seen a knife, and shot. Her actions were as black and white as it got. The only grey area involved, was her. "Why were you even there, Mom?" I asked.

I couldn't get a read on her. I could get a read on Dad and on Matt and even sometimes Grandpa Joe, but I couldn't get a read on her. I had a feeling that no one ever did. "Why were you?"

I didn't dare linger on that question. Didn't dare allow myself to remember that I had been banned from that trip. That my father had forbidden me from that mission and that I simply hadn't listened.

I didn't dare let myself fall into a loop of what-ifs. Not tonight. "I thought you were dead, and then you just... weren't."

The shift in conversation didn't escape her notice, but then again, hardly anything ever did. She paused for just a moment, debating whether or not it was worth the fight, but this was the most we'd talked in weeks—maybe even since she'd come back—and I don't think she was willing to risk having me shut down. "Yes," she agreed. "That must've taken a toll on you. I bet no one believed you when you told them, either."

"Would you have believed me?"

"Probably not."

"Then there you have it," I concluded, but even as it came out, I knew it wasn't exactly the truth. Some people had believed me. Others had tried their damnedest. And Dad was on a list all his own. "I think he wanted to," I admitted. "Dad, I mean. I think he really wanted to believe that you were back."