Chapter 8 #4
Fuck. I hated that he was right. I’d been holding off, believing it was stress or heartache over missing Sloan, but my symptoms were getting worse.
“I’ll call Rory tomorrow, but I’m telling you, I’m just a little stressed. I miss Sloan.” I nudged him gently and smiled. “Don’t worry, son, your papa’s gonna be just fine.”
He rolled his eyes, but amusement shone in them. “Even I want you to stick around.”
“Aw, you love me, too. I’m your best friend, aren’t I?” I singsonged, then chuckled as we made it to the stairs. We took one step at a time, and I was careful to lift my feet up all the way. Yesterday, I’d tripped and landed on my stomach and chest, and it hadn’t been fun.
“Maybe.” Fionn cleared his throat and waited until we got to the top of the split staircase before he continued. “Daire proposed to me.”
I nearly stumbled despite being on the landing. I yanked my arm out of his and gaped at him. “He did? And? You said yes, right?”
Fionn’s cheeks bloomed a bright red and he ducked his head, rubbing his cheek. “Yeah, I did. But we don’t want to wait. We’ve beat around the bush for too many years already. We want to get married at the courthouse. Make it official as soon as possible.”
I stared at him, sadness seeping into me and poisoning the happiness. Sloan was going to officially adopt Fionn, which would make him Sloan’s son, but he wouldn’t be here for Fionn’s wedding. That would break Sloan’s heart, though he would never say it.
“I understand, but couldn’t you wait until Sloan gets out of jail?
He’d want to be there.” My stomach churned at the thought of how upset he’d be to lose this family moment, and I did something I’d never done, I cupped Fionn’s face.
“You’re his son, Fionn. He would do anything for you, and I know he’d want to be there for you on your wedding day, even if it was only at the courthouse. Please wait.”
Fionn blanched. “I’m worried he won’t get out any time soon. That he’ll—”
“Don’t say it,” I whispered desperately, my heart speeding until I thought it would rip right out through my chest. “He will. He’ll be out soon. You heard Daire. Our inside man got rid of the gun from evidence.”
He shifted nervously. “It can’t be that easy. I’m scared to believe it. Daire and I can’t wait any longer. I want to be his husband.” He swallowed deeply, the apple in his throat bobbing. “When Sloan gets out, we can have a big wedding. But for now—”
“You want to get married,” I finished.
I couldn’t stop them. In a way, I understood.
Technically, they’d been together for over eight years, even if they hadn’t been official.
I forced myself to smile and dropped my hands from his face to his shoulders, giving them a squeeze.
“Congratulations, Fionn. I really am happy for you. And I’m proud of you.
I may not be your papa, but I am your friend. ”
He flushed, his smile so wide it almost blinded me. Who knew Fionn had a grin like that? He certainly didn’t use it a lot. “You could be my papa, but you have to get Sloan to propose first.”
I laughed and thought about telling him what Sloan had told me during the conjugal visit but brushed the thought away. This was Fionn’s moment. I wasn’t going to take it away from him. He’d waited to be in the spotlight for a long time.
Someone appeared in my peripheral vision, and I glanced in that direction, freezing at the sight of the man standing in the hallway.
Dad.
He wasn’t real, he couldn’t be. He was dead. Terrance had killed him.
Dad leaned a shoulder against the wall, one of his favorite Cuban cigars clutched between the fingers of his right hand. He raised it to his mouth, taking a long pull, holding the smoke in for a moment before blowing it out.
“Conall?” Fionn was distant as I kept my focus on Dad.
He was just as I remembered him. Dark hair, balding slightly at the forehead, and cold blue eyes.
He had a small scar right above his lip where Mom had thrown a glass at him once, and his nose was bent from where someone had punched him and broken it.
In the middle of his forehead was a bullet hole in the exact same spot Terrance shot him.
“He’s lying to ye,” Dad said, his tone wispy, as though he wasn’t really here with us.
But his voice had the same gruffness I remembered as a child and it sent an icy shiver down my spine.
His Irish accent was still as thick as it’d always been, even after years in the US.
“Yer man isn’t getting out of jail. He’s staying there. Goin’ to prison for years.”
“No,” I whispered.
“No what?” Fionn stepped in front of me, hiding Dad, and I shifted slightly to see him again.
Dad shook his head, a cruel laugh spilling from his lips. “Ye’re a fucking failure, Conall. Ye’ve always been a tosser, haven’t ye? I told yer ma we should have drowned ye when ye were born. Could tell ye’d embarrass me.”
“Are you mad at me?” Fionn asked.
Couldn’t he see Dad? No, of course he couldn’t. Dad was dead. I’d seen Terrance put that bullet in Dad’s head. So why was he here?
Threads of fear and anxiety wove their way through me, knotting themselves around my heart until I couldn’t breathe.
The memories of Dad’s abuse, of his unrelentingly brutal punishments, that’d been burned into my brain resurfaced, playing like a movie in front of me.
There weren’t many people I was truly afraid of, but Dad had been one of them. He’d made my childhood hell.
Dad shoved himself straight and began to walk toward me, and each step amped up my anxiety. Sweat drenched my forehead, and I wiped at it with the back of my wrist, taking a deep breath, but it did nothing for my racing heart that I thought would rip through my chest.
“Don’t you see him?” I whispered, not sure if I was talking to Fionn or not.
He heard me anyway and glanced behind himself, right in line of sight with Dad, but nothing flickered over his face.
“See who?” He looked back at me, eyebrows dipping in concern.
“Conall, I think I should call Rory now.” He went to move past me, but I grasped his elbow, forcing a laugh out of my chest.
“I’m fine. I told you I’d contact him tomorrow.
It’s not worth it to bring him here tonight.
” I focused on Fionn’s worried expression and ignored Dad as he closed in on us.
He walked slow—deliberate—and the closer he got, the higher my anxiety rose.
He always knew how to scare me. Once, he’d terrified me so much when I was a kid that I pissed myself, and he’d laughed in response.
I needed to get rid of Fionn. Now. I had to protect him from Dad. Fionn didn’t deserve the same punishments I’d received.
“Look at ye,” Dad sneered, giving me a slow once-over with disgust twisting his mouth. “Is this what I raised ye to be? A bloody whore? Because that’s what ye’re dressed like. A fecking shame to yer family name.”
“I’m going to bed. Don’t tell Sloan. You’ll only worry him. I swear I’m okay.” I gave Fionn a shaky smile and swept around him, heading toward my bedroom. As soon as I was safely inside, I slammed the door closed and pressed my forehead to the wood.
I’m fine.
I’m safe.
Dad wasn’t alive and he couldn’t hurt me. Sloan would never let him. Even while in jail, Sloan protected me, and I’d learned how to fight now through Fallon. I could defend myself. I wasn’t the weak kid Dad used to yell at and hit.
“Is this where ye spread yer legs?” Dad’s sharp voice sliced through the air behind me, and I spun, nearly toppling over in the process.
He was sitting in the gray leather armchair near the window, the same one Sloan liked to sit in when we were having a morning or afternoon conversation. He had his leg crossed over his knee and he looked relaxed, yet mean. He was always fucking mean.
“That’s Sloan’s chair,” I murmured, annoyed at how small I sounded. More sweat beaded on my forehead and I wiped it away. My head ached, a constant pounding I wished would fuck off. Why couldn’t this all go the fuck away?
He pointed at the bed. “I said, is that where ye spread yer legs like the whore ye are?”
“I’m not,” I argued pitifully. My entire body shook so hard my teeth rattled. “I’m his partner. We’re together. He proposed to me.”
He laughed and dropped his foot onto the floor, and it sounded like a bomb in my ears. I flinched as he rose and charged over to me. He stopped right in front of me. Having him here, so close, sent chills through my limbs and ice seeped into my veins.
“Ye are nothing more than a hole to use and a possession to own.” He shook his head and snarled, top lip pulled back. “I told ye about him, didn’t I? I told ye he liked the pretty boyos. I told ye to grow a beard, man up, and now look at ye. Yer brother’s sold ye off.”
Don’t be afraid of him. He’s not real. He’s dead. Terrance killed him. Whatever this was, it was all in my imagination.
I glanced at the bullet hole in his forehead, the skin split open and some of his brains seeping out. This wasn’t real. Dad wasn’t here.
I raised my chin. “I’m Sloan’s partner, not his bitch. We’re in this together.”
His laugh sent another set of chills through me.
“Ye are a disappointment. Both of me children are. Fecking embarrassing.” He shoved his face near mine, and I inhaled sharply through my nose.
“I fucking hate what ye’ve become. Someone will take ye out and yer owner will be in prison for the rest of his life.
Ye both’ll get what ye deserve.” He raised his hand, and I flinched as it rushed toward my cheek.
I closed my eyes, waiting for the impact, but it never came.
When I opened my eyes again, he was gone. I was alone in the bedroom. My heart raced and tears sprang to my eyes before I could stop them. Fuck! I gritted my teeth and my knees wobbled before they collapsed beneath me. I fell to the floor trembling.
“Sloan.” I let out a shaky sob. “I need you home. Now. You can’t stay in jail. You fucking can’t.”