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My First Love

  • Genre: Romance
  • Author: ELS
  • Chapters: 26
  • Status: Completed
  • Age Rating: 18+
  • 👁 53
  • 7.5
  • 💬 32


Charlie, a drunk detective with dark past. Killian, Leader of the Irish Mafia in NYC. After sharing Christmas together, they shared a night, a drunk one. with no memory, either of them. When the don't care about anything and decide to have a relationship, the worse of all happens, Killian's Mom comes to town, Charlotte finds out she's pregnant and once she tells Killian will he accept it? Or will he throw them out? will there love and desire towards each other be bigger than anything they have faced But when Charlie's and Killian's past catches up to them, can they survive? will they fight off their pasts to be with each other? Killian the boss of the mafia, Charlie, lead Detective on the Killian Taylor case.


Friday September 13th 1996

It was three o’clock in the morning, Friday September 13th 1996, the day the richest baby in the New York region was born. That baby was me, Charlotte Gregson. I was born at New York Presbyterian hospital. It was a hot Autumn night when my Mother Katherine and Father Michael Gregson brought me home to their three story, white brick mansion, in a small town forty minutes out from New York City called Snow Hill. Some of the townspeople believed because of the time and date I came into this world I’d be toxic and cursed even. Eventually they were right, I was cursed.

Although, living in a quiet town like Snow Hill, where everyone knows everyone’s business and lives, we have Cindy who own’s the grocery store and Janette who run’s her Mother’s Café, ‘The Snowball Café’ they are the biggest gossips in town. We have Barry the Mayor and Mary the school Principal, then we have Steve, the Candy Man and Danny the Chief of Snow Hill Police Department. My Mother owns and write the Snow Hill newspaper and my Father he’s the only town lawyer. Growing up in Snow Hill, was like a Disney movie. It was perfect and was my life. 

I’ve always believed in True Love like Cinderella did, I always wanted it, I’ve always imagined my first kiss like how Sleeping Beauty. My wedding was like Ariel’s. And my dream guy was prince charming like Snow Whites guy. I owned dozens of  Disney princess gowns that I’d wear to Cindy’s grocery shopping with Mom. Every birthday I’d get a princess cake that Jan would make for me. 

Until I stopped believing, I realised that it was all lies. Fairy tales aren’t true, that there was no such thing of ‘happily ever after.’ 

I was six years old at the time. I stop believing in fairy tales and happy endings , because unlike most six-year-old, I have witnessed death in rare and haunting ways a child shouldn’t. I have watch every person who I said love you too die in front of me. All of them was my fault. 


Every year since I was born, we have had a family tradition, going to my Grandparents to watch the ball drop at midnight. They lived a few blocks away on the top level, it was gorgeous inside, wooden furniture. Very 1900’s. My life was perfect, it was my favourite memory. Until one haunting snowy night, 30thDecember 2002, it was the first time I ever went to New York to watch the ball drop by myself, my father had business back in town and my Mother had the flu. Nanna was just about to read me a bedtime story ‘Snow Queen’. I crawled into the big fluffy bed and waited for my Nana, 

It was until my Nanna heard the door knock, she and Poppy went to the door, that’s when I heard them talking to a man, then I heard more noises like fighting. I remember when my dad said if you hear something scary to hide under the bed. 

I  got scared and got out of the bed, I crawled and hid under Nanna’s bed. I thought we were all safe, that’s when I heard two single gun shots, I was so terrified I wet myself, but I stayed quite under Nanna’s bed. I heard heavy footsteps enter the bedroom, I could smell cigarettes mix with men’s aftershave, I could see his boots when he walked over to my nanas window. They were black boots and he was wearing blue jeans 

I stayed under the bed until I knew it was safe, I crawled out and went to my Nanna who was sleeping, I tried waking her up but that’s when I realised the blood, it was leaking through onto the ivory carpet. I called my Mom,

“Mommy? Nanna and Poppy won’t wake up. There’s blood everywhere.” I explained frightened, she calmed me down and stayed on the phone while my father called 911. A short while later, there was a knock, they announced themselves as the Police, my Mom told me to open the door, so I did. We waited until my Mom came, there people doing things looked around the apartment for clues, putting yellow cards with black numbers on the floor. Soon my mother came, I watched her scream and collapse on the floor where the blood stained the ivory carpet, I went to her and hugged her as she cried. The police claimed the thief stole, money, jewellery and crystal glass vase. My mom was never the same after that.

We had the funeral a week later at Times square Church. My mom was really upset so I just hugged her, she even said a speech about them. 

The Police opened up an investigation, asking me questions about what I saw, what I heard, they believed a year later it was someone they knew. 

 Two years after my grandparent were brutality murder in their own home, my parents and I went to New York for final Christmas shopping, it was Christmas week. My Father was driving, he hit black ice and lost control and hit a tree, the window screen shattered, I remember my father’s voice telling me that it was okay, I will be okay. He was so calm, as if he knew. He knew I would be Okay. 

My Mother was dead as soon as we hit the tree, she hit her head on the window, made her unconscious then the airbag went off, they say she broke her neck. I was stuck in that car for hours; as they tried to get me out. I watched my father die slowly; he didn’t look as if he was in pain. When the windscreen shattered, a large piece stabbed him in the torso. Before he passed out, he told me to call 911, but they were to late he bled out. 

I stood there, a Black dress cut of at the knee, flat ballet slippers, Sunglasses hiding my red eyes, my long nut-brown hair swaying in the swing. I sat in the front row with my case worker. I found myself zoning out; I was staring at the two chestnut wooden coffins with lilies laid across both coffins. I looked up to their Photos, looking into their eyes as if they were next in front of me. I stood up and put a single white rose on both coffins. I walked to the back. I was 9 years old. 


 After the car crash, I was put in the foster system, I jumped from foster home to foster home. New York, New Jersey mostly, then finally back home to Snow Hill. I was quite rebellious against them, all of them; The first family I went to they were horrible. I was living in New Jersey with six other children in foster care. Fourteen being the oldest to three years old as the youngest. The couple hardly fed us and they’d never remember our names. We called ourselves Cinderellas. Doing all the house work while they smoke, drank and watched TV. We were all taken away shortly after I arrived, probably because they didn’t want us to leave the house and see our caseworkers. 

The second family weren’t any better, I was still in New Jersey. I was the only child there, but as soon as they heard my last name, they wanted me for my money I got after my parents died, but no one knew I was getting it until I was 25. At least I didn’t have to do all the chores, and I was fed... better. But still, they only called me ‘Gregson’ and I was only giving a mattress with a sheet. 

Then I was moved to New York. I was hoping this family would be kind and good willed, but they were the worst. Mr and Mrs Stillmen, I was the only girl out of the four. Every night when Mrs Stillmen and the boys went to bed. Mr Stillmen burnt me with his cigarette butt over my entire back. He would hit me and sexually abused me; he even made his marking by scaring me with a steak knife damaging my spleen. That night I call 911 and was taken to the Hospital. They had to remove my Spleen. 

Three years into the foster system I had gone to eight different homes, there was only two couples I like. Abbey she was a nice lady, she grew up into the system as well. We really got on. It was us and her son Michael who was in high school. She was my last before I was moved back to Snow Hill, where I knew friendly faces. A sweet young couple who couldn’t have children, they took me in. Julie and Paul Johnson, they tried to help me so much, paid for counselling and supported me. Treated me as if I was their own. They gave me my own bedroom, new clothes and shoes, made sure I ate three meals a day, plus snacks. They were the perfect picture. We were the perfect picture, soon after they adopted me, I even got to changed my last name.

Then I found a friend, a best friend; Matilda, she helped me get through the tough days, like my parents and grandparents’ birthdays, there anniversaries. I stopped celebrating Christmas and new year, it was way too hard for me. It’s the one time I always take off. I will take two weeks off and disappear, if that’s going to LA with Julie and Paul to celebrate the Holiday with Julie’s family. Or I stay here and hide until they come back

The last time I loved someone, I was almost eighteen, only a week away. Matilda and I just finished high school. But that’s when it happened, that’s when I lost my best friend. She took her last dying breath in my arms. That’s the one thing that haunts me every night, the reason I drink before I go to bed, the reason I never stay the night from a one-night stand, it’s one reason I hate everything.

There was blood everywhere, I was covered in her blood as well as my own, her thick blonde hair turned orange, sirens blaring, people rushing, I was in shock holding her stiffened body on the burning tar road, we were in front of her house. I watched the officers’ tape off the scene, barriers closing off the street, neighbour been asked to go back inside their homes. A tall, young and perfect...for a seventeen-year-old to drool over officer came over to me, I held her tighter,

“Miss Johnson? My name is officer Campbell.” He said in a soft deep country voice, I looked up into his dark hunter green eyes, they calmed me, made me realise it was okay. Officer Campbell asked if he could sit next to me, I just nodded and wiped tears from my hot red cheeks, he bent down and sat next to me and gave me a bottle of water and his half a sandwich, he ate the other, my mind when through everything that had happened, and I couldn’t form it to words, 

“Her...her dad... he came home early....” I shakenly said, 

“He...he wouldn’t stop hitting her...” I added my body started to shake, a tear ran down my hot cheeks, he scribbled something in his little note book, when I patted her head, I must have moved a little, because he pointed out the red bloody puddle leaking through my white flowered dress, covering my burns on my back. I looked down at my stab wound, I didn’t feel the pain anymore.  

“He did it...” I said, watching Matilda’s alcoholic father been taken away, the officer told me I have to get up but I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave her, the coroner’s van came soon after, an older lady stepped out and walked towards me, she looked early fifty’s, short, dark brown hair with grey’s showing. I could tell she felt sorry for me.    

“Sweetie my name is Nancy... Can you tell me yours?” she asked in a southern accent, 

“Charlotte.” I mumbled, she sat next to me and told me what will happen to Matilda when she takes her away, she made sure I was okay before she and her Co-worker removed her off the road. They let me say goodbye to her. I watched them as they put her into the van, then they drove off with her. I walked over to an ambulance where I met a EMT person checked on me, Officer Campbell told him about my stab wound. The town sheriff Danny told me I have to take off my shirt for evidence. So, I did. I stood in my white laced strapless bra. Everyone who saw winced, but I didn’t feel it. I was in too much shock. The EMT attended to my wound, and covered it. A kind officer gave me a dark blue oversized academy shirt with SHPD printed on it. I threw it on and I have no idea why, but I felt safe, protected.  

Office Campbell rode in the ambulance with me to the medical centre where I would meet Julie. When I got there, I saw Julie and I started crying. She ran to comfort me; I was rushed through and a doctor sewed me up. After I got sewn up, Officer Campbell organised a car and drove Julie and I to the police station, he escorted us through the back.

“Can I come in with her?” Julie asked, the man nodded and took us into a room. When I walked into the room it wasn’t your usual dark table and two chairs, interrogation room. It was bright and colourful; it had a bright blue walls and green chairs. It calmed me down a lot, actually. 

“Miss Johnson...Can I call you Charlotte?” he asked I gave him a half smile and nodded, a lady came through with water and coffee, I took the water, while the man took the coffee as did Julie, I asked if I could have a cigarette, the cop gave me one and lit it. I never smoke in front of Julie, but I think today I get a pass. 

“Okay Charlotte. I am Detective Lincoln... but you can call me Sam.” He said, 

“Now, I know this is gonna be very hard for you but do think you could tell me what happened?” he asked, I nodded my head and told him.


3 hours before

 Matilda and I laughing as we walked down the street to Sandy Grover’s house. She decided to throw a party while her parents are in Paris, just before we all parted our ways. It was a little after eight, when we got there. 

Half the school was there, people were on the driveway and on lawn talking and drinking, the music was pumping, the atmosphere was great and everyone was excited and in a fun partying mood. 

I stood near Matilda until two cute guys who we never seen come over to us. There was this one guy who was dark and mysterious. He came up directly to me, first time I was interested in a guy, in a long time. It took me a while to tell he had a Irish accent. We were having a great time, dancing, drinking, talking. We got involved in drinking games, like beer pong, we bonded amazingly well. It was the best time I’ve had in a long time. I could tell he was older than me, by at least four years. It was a great night until the cops busted up the party. Even that was fun, the guy kissed me goodbye, it was the kiss in fairytales.  I even found myself blushing over him. Then Matilda and I ran down the street laughing and dancing, telling each other about the guys we met. She even pointed out I was blushing. We did have a few drinks but once we got closer to her house, she recognised the lights were all on and we stopped our fun. When we got closer to the front door, that’s when he spoke, Mr White,  

“Little late laddies?” Mr White said making us both jump, 

“Sorry Dad...” Matilda said softly, I could smell the liquor off him, reeked of cigarettes. When stood up from the chair and opened his hand. Hit her. My jaw opened, he stared at me, he stood over us, He was huge, tallest man in Snow Hill.

“Where were you?” he asked, we lied and told him I forgot my phone and we had to get it, he believes us...for a minute. I glanced over to the wooden baseball bat and before my eyes he grabbed the bat and hit her, I tried screaming ‘stop’ but he didn’t. Her blood sprayed up at me, at him, over the wall...then she collapse on the fourth hit. Once she was down, he moved the bat to her stomach and hit her one last time. I bent down to see if she was alive... hardly. Her breathing was shallow. Mr white dropped the bat, told me to go home, he’ll deal with her, he turned away and lit another cigarette. I picked up the bat and hit him on the side of his head, I went back to Matilda, thinking I knocked him out, but I didn’t, he threw an airborne knife in my side near my hip. We were both shocked I took the knife out then I picked up the bat again while he was still down and I hit him again then kicked him in the head. Making sure he was out cold. I took Matilda near the road to get away from him. Blood was everywhere. I watched her take her last breath. I screamed to the young couple walking past with their German Shepard to call 911. But she was gone. I told her I loved her and I will never let her go, and I sat there for an hour on the hot tarred road, her head on my lap, until I had to let her go.

“Then I was brought here.” I said, I looked at Julie who was crying, 

“I’m-I’m sorry. That was just...” Julie said, Sam gave her tissues, I crushed out the cigarette. Sam explained the process about a trial and that I will need to tell the court what happened. Put Mr White away for a long time. 

 On the way home I fell asleep, I was emotionally drained. My adoptive father, Paul, must have carried me inside because when I woke the next afternoon, I was in my bed. I still had the shirt the officer gave me. I slowly made my way into the bathroom. As I stepped into the shower, I washed my long Light Chestnut brown hair, blood came out.  I waited until the water ran clear, then shut the water off. I stared at myself in the mirror, I was lost, I had just finished high school, I was supposed to be going to college, but I never went. I was stuck in Snow Hill with no one but Julie and Paul.  


It was the first day of the trial, we just put Tilly to rest, it was mid-October, the first snow fall. I put on my thick full length black winter coat and a navy-blue skirt with a nice white blouse, and flats. Julie and Paul drove me to the police station, where we met Sam, we changed into a black SUV. An officer drove us to the court house in New York, while Paul and Sam were in the back with me explaining how it will happen, Julie sat in the front. I chose Paul to be my lawyer as he still practices and Sam got Natalie whistler a Criminal barrister from the city. We met a few times going over the case. 

When we arrived at the courthouse, we went in the back way so we weren’t drawing attention, I went in and fell in love with the wooden balcony that hung above me, the wooden rail separating me and the public benches, it was just like the movies. The public, mainly paparazzi and news channels.  

“Okay, now Julie and Sam won’t be at the bench bar with us. Just Natalie, you and me.” Paul reminded me again, I just nodded, we all sat and waiting for court to be in session. When Mr white came in, I stiffen up, Paul told me to relax, he said that he couldn’t hurt me. 

“Court is now in session” a man said, I looked at Paul and took a sharp breath, 

“Stand for Judge Maybrook.” The same Man said, everyone stood, once we stood for Judge Maybrook, he told us to be seated, then he calls my case. Mr White’s attorney move out of the gallery, past the bench bar, and told the court what I was accusing him of, it was long and boring. It was a lie. Mr White told his lawyer it was a misunderstanding and I am a child, he had never hurt his daughter and that I am lying. Paul showed photos of Matilda blood spatters on the wall, my stab wound where Mr White stabbed me. The evidence was there. Enough to putting away but still, Mr white’s neighbour told the court that they fought all the time, yelling and swearing at any time of day and late at night.

It was finally my turn, I was called up to go on the stand, I was sworn in, then Natalie asked me questions of that night, I told the court what happened that night, I told the court that Matilda was never happy, always had bruises on her arms and legs, she had split lips, she had plans to leave Snow Hill I explained everything. 

After I was stood down, the court went into a recess for an hour when the jury would discuss if Mr White is guilty or not. Throughout the hour Julie made sure I had something to eat and a coffee, and we didn’t speak about the case. Paul, Sam and I snuck out so Paul and I could have a cigarette, 

The hour was up, we went back in, the judge asked the jury if they’ve reached a verdict, the foreperson stood, 

“We have your honour. We find that Mr White is guilty.” He said very clearly, people were cheering and clapping, 

“We won?” I asked, making sure I heard him right, 

“We did it.” Paul said, I couldn’t have been happier, two weeks later Mr White received twenty-five years to life with the possibility of parole, that’s what hit me like a ton of bricks. He can be released. 

A year after Matilda’s death I went crazy, I started drinking, I smoke more, I hung out with all the bad kids in town, sleeping with anyone who had a dick. There was never a day I wasn’t drunk or I didn’t sleep with someone, but I never let them remember my scars, I always left before they woke up. I ended up cutting my hair, pixie short and dyed it pink, I was a wreck. Julie and Paul really struggled with me and I wasn’t giving them any hope, until one day they sat me down and told me, 

“Charlie, if you keep destroying your body. You will end up pregnant or in trouble, and you deserve more than that.” And I didn’t want that. I was only nineteen, I wanted to be someone, I wanted to show Tilly I could be someone. I redyed my hair back to my Chestnut brown. Let it grow longer than I have ever had it. I cut down on the alcohol and smokes, and I spoke with Sam and officer Campbell about signing up to join the force, and that’s what I am now, I’m a junior detective.  

Everything changed the Christmas of 2026 when I met Killian, I wasn’t as fucked up; crazy to say, my life wasn’t as complicated with him in it. The only thing that kept us apart was our line of work, it’s crazy for a Cop to fall in love with the Mafia, Right? But we did... I did. He made me realise how valuable life really is, he made me feel, he made me see what I was really missing; Love. He taught it to me again.

I blame everything what has happened in my childhood, the reason why I can’t love, can’t feel anything towards anyone, apart from Julie and Paul, but I don’t love them. I appreciate them. After Matilda, the town started calling me ‘The Angel of Death’, so I learnt never to fall in love, or show any affection to anyone. Julie, tried to teach me love again, but I guess I was just not looking in the right direction. Maybe when I was born the town was right. I am cursed with being born on Friday  13th and at 3am.      

Chapter 1

8 years later

We try not to think of the bad, we try not to think about the what ifs, but we do. Were told its natural, normal human instincts even, but it’s hard not to. Especially when it’s family or loved ones. 

We ask at a young age, ‘what is death?’ Our minds will instantly drift off to other questions, ‘does it hurt or is it peaceful?’ The answer is unclear. We’re told it doesn’t hurt; it feels peaceful, but we don’t know. We ask ‘were they in pain?’ But we cannot answer, So, we say ‘No’ to make others and ourselves feel better. It’s hard to think of a loved one in pain as they die, even if they are the worse person on earth. They were still a mother’s child, a sibling or even a parent. 

It has been eleven years since I held my best friend as she took her last breaths on Fergus Road outside her childhood home. I am 26 years old; I grew up and bought new clothes. I even found a friend Ryan, he’s a year older than me. He’s now a surgeon


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