Chapter 33
I glance at the clock, a frown tugging down my brows. She’s been gone too long.
Excusing myself from the conversation between Ashley and her husband, I head back through the staff entrance, looking for her, but the stock room is empty and quiet, the music from the bar vibrating the walls.
“Niamh?” I yell her name but get nothing in response as I move to the fire exit, pushing on the bar to open it into the alley where the trash is.
A buzzing forms in my ears when I spot Niamh immediately. She’s pressed to the side of the dumpster, and my father cages her in, his hand raised as if to strike.
“Get the fuck away from my wife!” I snarl as I storm toward them, grabbing my father by the collar of his shirt to shove him away.
He stumbles, but I don’t give him a chance to escape. I follow, my fingers curling into my palm, ready to throw.
“Roman.” Niamh calls, her voice cutting through the roaring in my ears, halting my forward motion. “Don’t.”
It’s a long enough break that Jenson gets away, running toward the street and disappearing around the corner.
“Let him go.” She leans back on the dumpster and hangs her head, a heavy breath leaving her.
“Where are you hurt?” I go to her, gently cupping her chin to lift her face toward the little light out here.
“I’m alright,” She assures me. “I got him.”
“What?”
“We got him, cowboy.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask as I inspect the red mark on her jaw, the middle of the area turning darker, bruising. There’s some blood at the corner of her mouth, and it’s taking everything I have not to chase him down and destroy him.
Her blue eyes flick to the door. “Did I ever thank you for having the security installed?”
My head snaps toward the camera on top of the door.
“He admitted it.” She laughs, “Out loud.”
My eyes widen. “No.”
“Yes, Roman. He did. To all of it.”
I think the world shifts; the earth moving beneath my feet as the words register.
“There’s audio.” She continues, “We have him.”
“How did you…?”
“Just said the right things,” She shrugs. “You can end this, Roman.”
“He hurt you,” I eye the growing bruise on her jaw.
“I’m okay,” She assures me. “We need to download the footage. He knows he was caught; I don’t want him to steal it back before we have a chance to hand it in.”
“I want to kill him,” I admit.
Her hands cup my face, thumbs circling over my cheeks. “I know.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”
“Hey,” She soothes, “No.”
“No?”
“We’re in this together now. No apologies for things we cannot control.”
My fingers feather over the marks on her face, damage caused by my own blood.
“Come on, cowboy.” She brings me back to earth. “Time to fix it all.”
Dialing my brothers, I follow Niamh back into the bar and to the small office, the space only big enough to fit a single filing cabinet, a desk and a chair. There are no windows in here, the air stale and dusty.
“Sorry, I don’t come in here much.” She wheels the chair out as I tell my brothers to get here as soon as possible, not giving them any information, but they’ll come.
Once I put the phone down, I eye the bruise on her face, my blood heating again, pushing through my veins to thump in my ears.
Twice now. Fucking twice. He’s hurt her, used her to punish me.
“Where are —” I don’t hear the rest of what Niamh says as I storm back out into the bar and grab a towel before I bundle a bunch of ice into it, wrapping it up to bring it back to her.
Spinning her chair, I get to my knees and tilt her face toward me, applying the ice. Her eyes soften as she lifts her own hand and brushes back some of my hair.
“You punish him by doing this,” She whispers. “I know you want to hurt him, but you’re better than that, Roman.”
“Am I?” I reply.
“You are ten times the man he is.” Her voice is soft but sure, her eyes lowering so she can catch mine. “More than that.”
“I’m not letting him touch you again, Niamh.” I hold the ice to her face, keeping it gentle so I don’t hurt her further. “I won’t be better next time.”
The computer makes a pinging noise that draws Niamh’s attention away, pulling from the ice.
“It’s downloaded,” She tells me, typing away on the keyboard.
“Ice.” I demand.
“I’m fine. Can you find a hard drive? I think there’s a backup in the top drawer.”
“Niamh. Please let me take care of you.”
The door opens a moment later, and both my brothers bundle into the tiny room, the space getting that much tighter. We’re all practically shoulder to shoulder with very little movement to do much of anything.
“What is it?” Silas demands.
“I’d really like to know why the fuck I’m here when I was this close,” Remy holds up his fingers until they’re almost touching, “To finishing the crossword puzzle that has taken me almost two fucking weeks to complete!”
“You do crosswords?” Niamh’s brows hit her hairline.
“I get bored in my free time.” He shrugs. “Wait. Why the fuck is your face bruised?” His head snaps to me. “Why the fuck does she have a bruise?”
Silas homes in on the bruise now too, a fire starting up behind his eyes. “Roman?”
“Jenson stopped by,” I growl out.
“Jenson?” Remy frowns. “As in our father, Jenson?”
“The very one.”
“He fucking touched her?” Silas booms, his voice ricocheting off the walls.
“If we could just,” Niamh waves her hands, “Lower the testosterone a touch, it’s suffocating.”
“He fucking hit you?” Remy growls.
“Technically no,” She shrugs as she spins her laptop around, “The dumpster did.”
She hits play, and the room falls silent as the scene plays out. I thought I was pissed before, but now? Now I’m about to prove Niamh wrong. I am no better because if I see him, I will kill him. On sight.
“Where the fuck is he?” Silas demands, the rage simmering under the surface almost matching mine.
“He admitted it,” Remy blinks at the screen.
“You’ve got him.” Niamh breathes, “You can end this, finally give your mother the justice she deserves.”
I watch my youngest brother’s eyes glaze, watering with tears that will never fall.
I haven’t seen him cry since she died. The day we found out, he sobbed, broken beyond repair.
Nothing could ease the pain we all felt, but for Remy, it was like his soul fractured in two.
But then right in front of our eyes, he stopped, put up a shield, and he never cried again.
He ran off to the rodeo shortly after, hiding his pain behind a smile and a joke.
My hand curls over his shoulder, trying to give him some comfort. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes and shrugs off my touch.
“We are going to bury this fucker,” He growls.
Niamh slowly gets up from the chair and walks to my brother, her expression full of sympathy, and then she grabs him and pulls him in, her arms going around his body the best they can.
She hugs him, providing a safe space that neither Silas nor I have been able to give him.
It wasn’t through lack of trying; I think it was simply because we were all there with him.
His eyes bounce to me, wide in panic, but I just step back, and I let him have it. He needs it.
We all fucking need it.
We’ve been left with this festering wound. It’s grown over the years into an aching, bloody mess that none of us have dealt with healthily. Remy settles into Niamh’s hug, allowing him that much as his arms band around her too.
“He shouldn’t have been able to get near her,” Silas says under his breath, watching them with me.
“No.” I agree.
“She baited him,” Silas shakes her head, “For you.”
I look to the woman I have fallen in love with, and I realize I shouldn’t be shocked. Niamh has a quiet kind of power, it’s unassuming. She’s a quiet woman, keeps her cards close to her chest, but when she shines, she’s brighter than the damn sun.
“She did that for all of us,” I reply.
Silas shakes his head. “You got a good woman, Roman. Don’t fuck it up.”
I scrub a hand across my mouth, using it to hide the excited grin that wants to come out. “She told me she loved me.”
Silas chuckles, “Good luck with that.”
“Already lucky, bro,” Niamh lets Remy go and wipes her thumbs under his eyes.
“Thank you,” He tells her softly.
“We need to get this to the police.” She steps away and taps the laptop. “Even if the confession isn’t enough, he attacked me, and that’s grounds for something.”
Remembering her earlier request, I go to the cabinet and find the drive she was asking for. She plugs it into her computer and focuses for a moment as she gets the evidence transferred over and then places the drive in my hand.
“Find peace, Roman.” She kisses the corner of my mouth.
“Think I already found it, sweetheart.”