Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
It’s Malachy’s number on my screen.
“Hello?” I try to sound normal. But it’s also two in the morning, so it’s fine if I’m a little off.
“Hey, Caroline. Were you sleeping?”
I clear my throat. “Yeah, I was. What’s going on?”
“Listen, it’s Shane.” Mal talks very softly. I hear the emotion in his voice. It’s rare for Mal to sound like he’s actually feeling something. Leave it to another piece of shit to mourn a monster. “There was an altercation and… shit, how do I even tell you this… he’s been killed, Caroline. Shane’s dead.”
I wait to feel something. Nope, nothing.
Just the same vague sense of unease.
“I don’t believe you,” I manage to force out. Suddenly, an ugly, giddy laughter threatens to claw its way up. God, Mal would be so mad if he knew what I did. Shane was going to fuck me! Shane wanted to fuck his own sister, and it got him killed in the end! I bet Mal would shout and rage and cry if he knew the truth of how Shane died. It’s so hilarious I have to cover my mouth and move the phone away. Tears roll down my face. I’m laughing so hard, I’m crying.
I put the phone on speaker. Mal’s voice cuts back in. “—going to figure out what happened and deal with it. Mom’s a wreck. Everyone’s here. You should come over.”
“Yeah, okay, of course,” I'm able to say.
He must hear the laughter and think I’m sobbing or something. “It’ll be fine. You have to be strong now, okay? We’ll talk to your husband about hunting down Shane’s murderer. We’ll do it with the Whelans. Don’t worry, we’ll get justice for him.”
“Good!” I’m almost screeching with mirth. I have to hang up, and once the line’s dead, I drop my phone and fall to my knees. I’m laughing so hard my throat hurts, laughing and laughing, because my brother’s dead, my dumb fuck abusive stupid asshole brother’s a rotten corpse in the earth, and my family has no idea they’re next.
It’s the funniest shit I’ve ever heard in my life.
The house is cold and quiet. Mal meets me at the door. I’m in black jeans and a dark sweater. He hugs me lightly and awkwardly. Malachy never was good at emotion. “Red and Dermot are in the living room. Mom’s upstairs. Dad’s in his office. You should go see him.”
“You think he’d want to talk to me right now?”
“You’re his daughter.” He doesn’t sound very sure. “Go ahead and check in at least.”
I make my way stiffly to the office. I’m afraid of seeing my father. There’s a part of me that thinks he knows it was me and my husband who killed Shane, but that can’t be possible. Finn swore that brothel had no cameras and the owners were all loyal to him personally. None of the girls saw my face or knew Finn was even there.
Still, I’m terrified. I’m always terrified of my father. I knock on the study door and step inside. There’s a fire going and it casts long, flickering light. I remember one time, Shane punched me in the mouth and nearly knocked me right into that fireplace. I barely stopped myself from getting seriously burned. Shane would’ve loved that.
“Hi, Dad,” I say, lingering near the door.
My father’s at the window. He’s got a glass of whiskey in one hand. His hair’s messy and he’s still wearing his pajama top. I’ve never seen him looking so old before. He turns to look at me, a deep frown cutting through his lined face.
“Took you long enough to get here.”
Nothing else. Not asking how I am, not checking to see how everyone’s doing downstairs, nothing, just criticism.
“I came the second Mal called.”
“Your brother’s dead. You could at least show enough respect to get here faster.” He takes a long drink. “Shane was a good man. He was strong. And now he’s gone, but you’re still here, aren’t you? Good-for-nothing Caroline. All you could ever do was walk down the aisle, and now that’s done, so what use are you?”
I hang my head, rage burning in my guts. His son’s dead, but he can still treat me like shit. It’s his favorite pastime, after all.
“I’m sorry about Shane.”
“I bet you are. We all are. Shane is a real loss. If you were the dead one though—” His nose wrinkles and he turns away. “You can go.”
I don’t think I’ve ever left a room that fast before in my life. I shut the door and stand on the other side, breathing hard. My guts twist in a knot. I close my eyes and see Finn stabbing Shane again, over and over. This time, the memory isn’t so bad.
The rest of my brothers are in front of the TV. Some late-night action movie is on. They’re all drinking. Red ignores me. Dermot barely gives me a nod. Mal’s on the phone, pacing back and forth, talking to some soldier or lieutenant, probably looking into Shane’s death.