13. Devina
Seven years ago.
The two lines appeared immediately, almost mocking us.
“You’re going to run off and marry someone and leave me, Scarlet.”
I’ve never known my sister to be anything less than a hopeless romantic. She was three years older than me and equipped with everything necessary to land any man. Not that any man would do. She had her standards high. But this one was different. So different, in fact, that she wouldn’t tell me who he was.
I knew he was older. Old enough to make her hesitant.
We sat on the bathroom floor with the stick still wet from her urine. In that moment I knew our lives would be changing and the idea made me want to puke. I was angry when Scar first told me she needed me to help her. I wanted so desperately to attend Jessica’s sleepover, to finally be included. . . maybe even have my first kiss with Russell Crowe. We shared four classes together for the past two years and he started showing interest over the past few months.
As much as I enjoyed the prospect of Russell’s lips on mine, I knew she needed me and I would always yield to her. The anger dissipated when she pulled the pregnancy test out from the small brown bag.
“Are you going to tell him?”
“Of course I’m going to tell him Vi,” she said, rolling her eyes at me.
“Fucking great, Scar.” I spat, not intending for it to come out as venomous as it did. “Don’t you want to go to school and travel? What about everything we planned?”
She was nineteen. She could do whatever she wanted. Unfortunately, I was stuck here for another two years. As soon as my time was up here, we’d bid farewell to our Irish family and the trouble it brings us. We’d get the hell out of Boston and see the world. We’d move across the globe so quickly, they would never find us.
“We were already planning on getting married, Vi. He wants me forever.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes in an attempt to cover up the sting of betrayal as she swooned.
“You need to tell me who he is. Is he dangerous? Is that why you won’t tell me? Oh God, it’s not one of Dad’s goons is it?” I scrunch my face.
“I won’t tell you because he’s older and once everyone knows, I’m sure Dad is going to flip out. No one will be happy. I love you Vi, but you are the worst liar in the world. I can’t risk it until I’m ready.” She wasn’t wrong. I am the worst liar.
She planned to see him and tell him the “good news” tonight.
I wait in my bed staring up at the ceiling. Obviously, I know how this happened, but how could this happen? My room still has pink walls and my shelves are lined with trinkets from my childhood. God, I am a baby. I chuckle to myself. Maybe I’ll get a room makeover out of this whole ordeal. They will have to make a nursery right?
I heard Scarlet’s feet pat along the porch and her bedroom window slowly open and close. I made my way over to her room and crawled into bed with her.
“Scar, how did it go?” I broke our silence.
“It didn’t. We’re done.” I freeze, never expecting this to be one of the outcomes. “He already has kids and doesn’t want another. What am I going to do Vi?” She sobs into her pillow.
“We’ll be OK Scar. We will do all the things we planned. Nothing will change.” I assure her while I rub her back.
“Everything will change, Vi. I’ll have a baby now.” I can see her excitement from earlier is gone and replaced with devastation I have yet to experience in my short life. “You’ll have to do it all for both of us.”
I pet her hair to soothe her but I’m only a child myself, I have no idea what the fuck we are going to do. Everything in me wants to run. I crave freedom deep in my bones. But do I want it enough to leave her?
I stay until her sobs become fewer and she finally falls asleep. God, love seems to make you do the dumbest things. Freedom, I’ll chase it. Adventure, I’ll run toward it excitedly. Love? No thanks.
I slipped out of the covers and made my way back to my room. Closing my eyes, I try to imagine what type of man would turn away a woman so devoted and so full of life – especially since the life she is filled with now is part of him. I don’t get too far into my thoughts before the first shot rings out. I go stiff not knowing if it is one of my dad’s men or an attack.
Shots fire outside and I can hear the front door crash open before footsteps pound up the stairs. This is an attack. I slip out of my bed placing the covers back in place before I grab my baseball bat and stand at attention behind my door. I can see the light below the door and a shadow briefly pauses before continuing to Scarlet’s room next door. I’m frozen in place.
Two shots. I don’t hear the drop of a body. She was already in bed.
Another set of feet make their way up the stairs but pause at the top of the landing.
“I got the old man. Are you done? We have to go, the fire is picking up.” A man’s voice rumbles.
“There is one more,” the first man says.
My breath hitches and I will myself to be invisible.
“She’s not supposed to be here,” the second man replies.
Slowly my door knob turns and opens only inches, just enough to see my made bed. His strong scent makes my stomach turn and his shadow lets me know that he is large enough to take me easily, even if I struggle.
“Cap, the fire. Let’s go. No one else is here.”
The door shuts and I sink slowly to the floor as their footsteps descend the stairs.
I don’t know how long I sat and waited, afraid they were still in the house, but it was long enough for the smoke to reach me. Black clouds drifted under the door and I felt the heat on the other side. I knew I couldn’t leave without seeing her. They could have missed.
I slipped on my tennis shoes and slipped out my window to crawl on the roof above the porch to Scar’s window. The flames began to scorch the door as I frantically pulled back the crimson blankets to expose the shots that were embedded in her torso.
“You came for me.” Her eyes are nearly vacant.
“Oh God, Scar, hold on I can hear help coming.” I plead as I try to put pressure on her wounds as sirens blare in the distance.
Scar was everything I wasn’t. She was the brave one. She had convinced me when we were younger that I could jump out of airplanes and climb the highest mountains. When I was eight we stood on the roof looking over at the swimming pool. “I’m scarred Scar,” I said. “You feel those butterflies in your tummy?” she asked, I nodded, “You’re not scared, you’re excited.” Her mischievous smile stretched to her eyes and she grabbed my hand. We jumped together and I loved every second. But this, this was fear. Consuming, paralyzing fear.
The house began to collapse around me as the firetrucks finally arrived. I need to snap out of it but I want to take her with me. I can’t leave without her.
Her hand became limp on my own and I felt a single breath leave her chest. I waited for it to rise, but she was gone.
Strong arms wrap around my waist and drag me back. I reach for her but someone is pulling me and I lose grip of her arm. Pulling at her fingers, her ring slips off with ease having been covered in her blood. Time rushes past me and slows all at once and I’m dragged out the window and placed in the arms of a waiting man.
I want to scream. I want to fight back. I want to be there with her. Everything was taken. Let the fire take me too. I have nothing left.
I sat with paramedics as I watched my childhood home burn to ashes. Everything in me, on me was numb. I was in such shock I didn’t even feel the fire that had crept up my left hand and melted my skin. Help came just in time.
“You’re lucky we got to you in time,” the man said as he wrapped temporary bandages around my arm before telling me I’d be taken to the hospital in a few moments.
I was in shock. I must be. I’m screaming in my head but my ears are ringing and he seems unaffected by my rage.
I look down at my clenched fist. Opening it, I find Scar’s Claddagh ring singed by the heat and caked in dry blood. The tears come quickly and because she isn’t here to lend comfort, I find none. Absolutely none.
I would find who did this and they would pay with blood. The Cap would pay.
I’ll do it for both of us, Scar.
I’ll be coming for you, Cap.