Chapter 2 #2
“She never meant for you to go through this much pain, sweetheart. She was sick. Her intention was muddled.”
I take a deep inhale, my lungs squeezing, making it hard to breathe.
I hate remembering that time in my life.
To see my mom, so strong and vibrant, wasting away and losing herself haunts me still.
How erratic she became was awful, but I couldn’t leave her to suffer alone.
The doctor explained terminal restlessness, and while she was rambling because she was dying, she was still my mom until the last beat of her heart.
“I know. But I made a promise to her—to me too, though. I can’t bear the thought of Liam being by himself. I need the comfort of that.”
Joe squeezes my hand knowingly. Because he sat with us until the very end. Like always, his advice hits home. This could be the chance I’ve been looking for. Then he mentions the other person tying me back to Ireland, turning the pain into sharp, searing anger.
“Oscar still doesn’t sit well with me. His version of events never matched yours.”
I feel the weight of his words like rocks in my stomach, because Oscar’s explanation never sat well with me, either. He insisted I wasn’t remembering things properly because of how emotional and young I was.
Age and emotion had nothing to do with it. The gap in my memory was, and still is, too memorable for it not to have been something I had to remember. I’d been to a therapist who believed me enough to refer me to a colleague who specialized in narrative therapy.
Frustratingly, each session ended with a roadblock.
Supposedly, I had no option but to wait for either my mind to unlock or for me to see what had locked me up in the first place, so it could act like a flip switch, a trigger.
Waiting has been a source of frustration for a long time now.
I’ve tried to stay focused on the fact that one day the truth will come to light, but my hope is dwindling too.
My uncle is the black sheep of the family and the cause of a lot of stress in my mom’s life. I’m extremely angry at him for not protecting and searching harder for Liam. I’m downright irate that he never reached out to his dying sister.
Oscar chose his path; I’ve chosen mine, and I’m happy for our paths to never cross again.
And then I put two and two together. “Really? DOCB is asking for me to help because of Oscar? Wow, that’s really using everything they have at their disposal, isn’t it?”
Joe drops his forearms on the desk and looms closer. “I’m sure they’re keen to exploit the connection.”
Indignation flares faster than I can control myself, and Joe’s eyebrow raises in question.
“There’s no solid lead on him, and there hasn’t been for a long time,” I snap back.
He nods his head, agreeing. “Except, a man like Oscar wouldn’t just disappear. There’s been plenty of innuendo circulating. Some say he’s dead and got what he deserved. Others say someone’s playing a long game and is keeping him protected.”
I take a long sigh and let go of acting like a petulant child at the thought of being “used” by my employer, because catching criminals is part of my job description, after all.
“I tend to believe the second, actually. There are too many utterances, too much chatter about him for Oscar to be dead. Plus, I’m pretty sure whoever killed him would be gloating to have taken him out.
A few years back, he was too prominent, involved in too much for him not to have upset someone or multiple someones.
Or perhaps the Bratva solved the issue for all of us, Joe. ”
Which is a horrible thought, but I still feel okay about it. Sometimes I think it would be a hell of a lot easier for me if someone did take Oscar out of the picture, and all I had to deal with was the aftermath.
“Irrespective, your job is to provide the DOCB an update. If he’s alive, we know which direction we’ve got to go.
If he’s dead, we look at the issue differently.
Or you don’t accept the transfer in front of you, which I don’t think is the right thing to do.
I’ll support your decision, but you also need to remember, you’re the one in control of the Oscar situation, your career, and your life, Tally.
You don’t sway away from who you are, and you don’t lose your morals, no matter who’s applying the pressure. ”
I get where Joe’s coming from. Ever since I started this career, given my connection with Joe, and my uncle’s illustrious career in the Irish underworld, I’ve been pushing shit uphill. Throw in my Omega designation, and sometimes that hill has felt way too steep.
“Don’t let the bastards win,” he insists once I look at him.
He uses his finger jabbing on the surface of his desk to emphasize the same message he’s always pushed.
“You have more integrity in your little finger than most people have in their entire body. Coupled with your mother’s good heart, and my stellar influence, you’re the best cop around, and you’ll achieve your goals, then walk out of your service with your head held high.
Now, go tell your supervisor he can shove his judgmental head up his arse, then clear your desk.
You’re to report to your contact in two weeks. ”
I grit my teeth so hard, I think they’re going to crack. “What’s the rush? Why are they pushing hard?”
“One of theirs, Special Detective Sullivan, with them for three years, good at her job. Solid. Got in her car this morning, turned the ignition, and got blown up.” He waits until I close my eyes to deliver the punchline.
I throw a bitch-loaded look his way. “Clearly she wasn’t solid.”
He stares me down for a minute, letting me see and feel his disappointment. As soon as I said the words, I wished I could take them back. I sit up straighter, wearing my shame, like I should, as he chastises with the truth.
“You’re better than that. Keep judgment out of this and focus on the facts. Some poor woman is dead because she was simply doing her job.”
I stare at the ceiling, letting Joe’s wisdom sink in deeper.
“I’m a dick. I shouldn’t have said that, it was out of line.
At the same time, Joe, you don’t get taken out for no reason.
” Sitting up, ready to discuss the case further, I notice Joe’s expression has changed to concern, and it’s like a bucket of water, leaving me as tired as I look.
“Make it three weeks, and you’ve got a deal.
I swear, you better get used to me calling you any time of the day and night. ”
“That’s a given, as is you getting us the results we need on all those outstanding issues.
” He leans close again, squeezing my hand encouragingly before eventually breaking our connection to push the keys to my locker over his desk.
“Go and relax. Let me know if you want a visitor, though we both know you won’t.
And that is more than okay, Tally. You need a break. ”