Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Beibhinn
The Present
Out of joy is sorrow born. Either the memory of past bliss is the anguish of to-day, or the agonies which are, have their origin in the ecstasies which might have been.
―Edgar Allan Po e
Rohan leads the way in Lorcan’s Mercedes, turning off the main road and onto the sweeping driveway that leads down to the lake. Following suit, I drop a gear, slowing Liam’s Mustang to a crawl as the gravel lane kicks up dust beneath the tyres. Realistically, my Range Rover would be better suited to this terrain, but something about driving my brother’s pride and joy makes me feel closer to him, especially when my gaze falls to the small MMA gloves dangling from the rearview mirror.
Through the open window, the familiar scent of pine and woodsmoke floods the cab, mingling with the crisp mountain breeze. When we were younger, I always envied Liam and his summer trips to the cabins with Lorcan. After each visit, he would come back rejuvenated and happier than I’d ever seen him. Most of his stories involved Saoirse, although, at that time, he never called her anything but his Free Bird, keeping her identity hidden.
It wasn’t until I got to experience my own summers with Cadden that I truly understood the reasoning behind Liam’s summer visits, and why they held such importance to him. He wasn’t the same person after those vacations stopped; he changed everything, refusing to answer to his birth name, and instead embodying his new persona of Liam Devereux. Over the years, he’d leaned into the syndicate more and more, that was until his Free Bird reappeared and brought Devin back.
Honestly, being here makes me feel closer to him.
As I pull to a stop next to Rohan, I switch off the ignition and rest my head against the back of the seat. Closing my eyes, I try to gather the strength to go inside and face my mother. I’ve been avoiding her since the funeral, mostly because I couldn’t stand the grief in her eyes. Knowing I can’t push her away forever, I tease the car door open and head for the cabin, ignoring Rohan’s watchful gaze as I hesitate with every step, prolonging the inevitable.
With a deep breath, I push open the door and step inside. Within seconds, my eyes meet my mam’s, and a myriad of emotions flicker across her face like shadows dancing in the firelight. Relief, sadness, and a hint of apprehension mingle in her gaze, mirroring the storm of feelings raging within me. The lines etched on her face seem deeper, a reminder of the pain and loss we’ve endured since we last saw each other. She’s aged a decade in the span of a few days, looking way older than her thirty-seven years.
Without a word, she closes the distance between us and envelops me in a tight embrace, the warmth of her presence is a balm for my battered soul. “Oh, thank God you’re okay. I was worried when you wouldn’t return my calls.”
“I’m sorry. I just… I needed time.”
Pulling back slightly, she grips my shoulders as she surveys my face, committing my features to memory. With a tearful nod, she draws me back into her chest. The weight of unspoken words hangs between us, a silent acknowledgement of the shared grief that binds us together. I swallow back the emotion threatening to burst through the armour I’ve spent days erecting, preferring to hide behind the barrier of anger that keeps me from fully expressing the depths of my pain.
As she holds me close, the silence speaks volumes, a language of love and loss that transcends words. The air is heavy with unshed tears and unsaid words, but in the embrace of my mother’s arms, I find a fleeting moment of solace—a fragile bridge spanning the chasm of grief that separates us, a glimmer of hope in the darkness that has clouded my heart since the day I said goodbye to Liam. Lowering my guard slightly, I offer her a glimpse of my hurt. “I miss him.”
Her chest hitches as she buries her head in my shoulder. “I know, honey. I miss him, too.”
Once we finally pull apart, my gaze snaps over my mother’s shoulder to the living room. Papers litter the rug while empty mugs decorate the coffee table, and in the midst of it all, Saoirse’s mam, éanna, sits crossed legs in the sea of documents, muttering to herself. “Motherfuckers could be anywhere. How the fuck are we supposed to find them?”
Behind her, Rohan places his hand on her shoulder, and she jolts. Her hand flies to her chest, startled by our presence. Her attention pings between Rohan and me, and then she pushes herself to her feet. “God, I’m so sorry. I was so consumed by all this”—she tosses her hand to the mountain of paperwork—“I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Did you find anything?” Rohan pries as he takes a seat on the free armchair.
“Nothing of substance. A few offshore accounts that prove Gabriel has been laundering money from the syndicate business, but nothing pointing to the explosion.”
Squaring my shoulders, I draw in a breath before pulling the USB key from my pocket. “Maybe this will help.”
“What is that?” My mother’s eyes widen.
“According to Bevy, it’s footage of Oliver incriminating himself… and Gabriel in the process.” Rohan kicks his feet up onto the coffee table. “Should we wait for Lorcan and Saoirse to get back?”
My mother snatches the USB from my hand. Her chest rises and falls with heavy breaths as she crosses the room before coming to a halt in front of the TV mounted to the wall above the fireplace.
“Wait!” The sight of the USB drive in her hands feels like a ticking time bomb, ready to explode with the damning evidence it contains. My gaze snaps to éanna, and her eyes lock on mine as I continue, “There is delicate information discussed on the recording.”
From the side, my mother asks, “Delicate how?”
Ignoring her, my wide eyes flick from Rohan to Saoirse’s mam, hoping she can read my mind. Recognition flicks across her features, and the room falls so silent I can hear her heart drop as she rises to her feet. Judging by the devastated look on her face, the past she ran from has finally caught up to her, and she knows it.
Feeling the tension in the air, Rohan pushes from the armchair and pulls his cigarette case from his pocket as he heads towards the door. “I’ll be outside if anyone needs me.”
I barely acknowledge his exit or the click of the door as he shuts it behind him, keeping my gaze locked on éanna. “You never told her, did you?” I question without giving too much away.
éanna shakes her head before hanging it low and tucking her chin to her chest.
“I already know. I’ve known for eighteen years.”
éanna lifts her head, surprised by my mother’s words. They share a look, one I recognise from my friendship with Saoirse. A wordless conversation that only comes with the rarest of connections. “Why didn’t you say something?” Her eyes glisten with unshed tears as her features twist into a mixture of guilt and anguish.
“What was I supposed to say? ‘I’m sorry the man I am marrying violated you in the worst possible way’?” The raw vulnerability in my mother’s words lays bare the depths of her pain, a mirror image of the turmoil twisting on éanna’s face as she desperately tries to finish a puzzle she doesn’t have all the pieces to. “Besides, I figured you’d tell me when you were ready, only that day never came.”
“I tried to tell you. I swear I did,” éanna confesses, her voice barely above a whisper. “But you were heavily pregnant with the twins,” she continues, “and I couldn’t risk putting that much stress on you so close to your due date. Then after Liam and Bev were born, I went into hiding and told Darragh to look out for you. He promised me he would take care of you and the twins. But then…”
My mother’s jaw tightens, and I can see the hurt brimming in her eyes. “Oliver killed him.”
I don’t know much about Darragh Ryan’s death, but from the stories I heard over the years, her version of events coincides with the rumours.
My mam’s eyes flick between éanna and me, then her shoulders sag with the weight of her exhale. “That was the story Oliver spun to keep his arse out of the fire. Truth is, Darragh came to me after what happened to you, and he told me everything.” My mam lowers herself into the armchair and lifts her gaze to éanna’s. “Once I learned the truth, I could barely stand the sight of Oliver, and I knew as soon as my babies were born, I’d leave him. Only the stress of everything sent me spiralling, and I ended up going into labour earlier than expected.”
Crossing the room, éanna drops to her hunkers in front of my mam before taking hold of her hands and offering her comfort. A part of me wants to back away and let them have their moment, but when my mother’s eyes connect with mine over her best friend’s shoulder, I know she’d prefer me to stay.
“The twins were kept in ICU for several weeks, making my escape impossible, at least at the time. Every day, Darragh would drive me to the hospital to see them, and before long, feelings developed between us. When the twins were released from the hospital, Darragh and I had a plan. Once he turned eighteen, he’d be able to claim the Ryan seat. Then, I could leave Oliver before our summer wedding was set to take place, taking the kids with me. Darragh would be on the road to becoming the next Leinster king, and we’d be safe. Or so we thought.”
éanna’s hand flies toward her mouth at my mam’s revelation. “You. The morning before he died, he told me he found his queen. He wouldn’t tell me much, just that he’d fallen in love and that he could guarantee I would love his future wife.”
My mam nods her head. “I was there when he called you. We were planning on telling you together when you came home. But unfortunately, we never got the chance. Then after he was gone, it was too hard to talk about him and what should have been.”
Confusion narrows my brow as a flurry of questions race through my mind. How did I spend my entire life believing my mam and dad were in love? How did she stay with him knowing every bad thing he’d done? How did she sleep knowing her kids were under the same roof as a monster? How did she look at my dad knowing he killed the love of her life?
Before I can stop myself, the words tumble past my lips. “If Dad raped your best friend, then killed the man you loved, why the fuck did you stay with him all these years?”
My mother’s gaze holds mine. “Because I couldn’t risk him taking another person I loved away from me. The night he found out about my relationship with Darragh, he lost it. I’ll never forget the look on his face as he issued his threat. ‘Nobody takes what’s mine and lives to keep it.’ The next morning, I found Darragh hanging from a tree with a suicide note shoved in his pocket.”
“At the time, I was so scared,” she continues. “You and Liam were still so tiny and helpless. I couldn’t risk him hurting either of you, so I stayed, committing myself to a lifetime with Oliver Devereux. Once we were married, there was no other choice. Syndicate marriages are for life.”
“You should have told me.” A sob dampens éanna’s words. “You could have come with us. Lorcan would have kept you and the kids safe.”
My mother looks between me and her best friend, and for the first time since the night my brother died, I see the fire in her eyes, the same one that burns inside me. “I’m not like you.” She squeezes éanna’s hand. “Running from my life was never an option. Instead, I did what I had to do. I fought back. Every spare second I had I spent in my gym, training in every form of self-defence I could. I learned how to use any object within reach as a weapon. Then, when my daughter”—her attention flicks towards me—“turned ten, and I saw my husband leering at her across the dinner table, I handed her a gun and taught her how to use it.”
Memories of all the training my mother had given me comes rushing to the forefront of my mind. She taught me everything I know. If we weren’t in the gym, we were at the gun range. At the time, I thought she was preparing me for syndicate life, but now it all makes sense. She was making sure I could fight back if I needed to.
Suddenly, éanna rises from her hunkers and wraps her arms around her centre. “I never should have run. The second I left, the dominos started to fall. If I’d have stayed, none of this would have happened.”
My mam stands, placing her hand on éanna’s shoulder. “You don’t know that. If you’d stayed, more people might have gotten hurt. You did what you had to do.”
Suddenly, the front door opens with a bang and Saoirse comes rushing in and straight up the stairs. Rohan is hot on her heels, shouting after her. “Please talk to me, mo bhanríon.”
Defeated, he stops at the base of the stairs when Saoirse’s bedroom door slams shut, closing him out.
éanna’s attention stays on Rohan, tears dancing down her cheeks. “I taught my daughter how to run when things get tough, to hide away from the monsters under her bed. But you…” Her eyes find my mother again, and her hand sweeps through the air, gesturing towards me. “You taught yours how to slay dragons. If anyone is at fault here, it’s me.”
My mother wraps her arms around her friend, drawing her into her chest and embracing her. Together, they lean on each other as the consequence of their pasts and presents collide.
Feeling like an intruder, I inch towards Rohan, where he’s perched on the last step of the stairs, elbows resting on his knees with his head in his hands. When he hears me approach, he lifts his gaze. “She keeps pushing me away. How the fuck am I supposed to be there for her when she won’t let me near her?”
I place my hand on his shoulder. “Let me talk to her.”
He nods, and I acknowledge him with a tip of my chin before making my way up the stairs.
Once I reach the top, I halt outside Saoirse’s room. Drawing a deep breath through my nose, I raise my hand and tap my knuckles against the hardwood.
I’m met with silence, so I try the handle, and thankfully, the door opens. I find her standing by the window, her silhouette outlined against the sunset filtering through the glass.
“Saoirse, you can’t keep pushing Rohan away,” I implore, my voice tinged with urgency. “We need each other now more than ever.”
She turns to face me, tears glistening in her eyes. “I know. But every time I look at him, the guilt… It’s suffocating me,” she whispers, her voice cracking with emotion. “How can I keep living my life like nothing happened when half of my heart is gone?” The raw honesty in her words strikes a chord deep within me, a shared burden of grief and remorse that binds us together. “I love Rohan, but right now, I can’t give him what he needs because I’m barely fucking breathing.”
Suddenly, I’m struggling to carry the weight of all the hollow hearts in this cabin, especially when my own is struggling to beat. Ignoring the ache in my chest, I make my way across the room and pull Saoirse into my arms. “Shutting Rohan out won’t bring Liam back. Nothing will. But I promise you, I have a list of names involved, and I won’t stop until each one is crossed off my list.”
I can’t change the past, but I can control how I react to it. Time to dethrone the current kings, once and for all.