Page 73
“I am.”
“Then you’ll do your duty.”
Chapter 35
Brioni
Orla watches me from her porch, flanked by empty stone flowerpots. In the spring, they’ll overflow with indigo petunias, but for now they’re nothing but potential. Backlit by the porch light, her gray and auburn hair has a bright red halo to it, and she waits until I’ve unlocked my front door before we wave goodnight.
Inside, my childhood home smells like dusty wood, familiar but abandoned. I navigate my way without needing any lights, feeling like an intruder as I lumber up the stairs. My feet are heavy. It’s as if my legs suddenly lack the strength to lift, but I manage to shuffle through the dark to collapse face-first onto my bed.
I groan into my pillow. Now’s when I would check my alarm, but my phone’s in the pub’s basement, along with the last scrap of ignorance I’d been clinging to.
I have to hope I’ll wake up in time for work because of my internal clock. Or maybe because of this constant prickling in my scalp, the one reminding me to be aware of Harrison without actually telling me the level of threat. I don’t know what to think about my own instincts anymore.
The idea of going into work tomorrow feels all too normal. After witnessing what I did tonight, this shift in my life is irrevocable, and there is no normal left for me.
I roll onto my back to stare up at the ceiling. I took down my glow-in-the-dark stars ages ago, but sometimes I imagine they’re still up there, brightened by the occasional flick of Liam’s flashlight from across our yards.
After my mam left, I never had the heart to move into the primary bedroom, even though it’s much larger than mine. I upgraded to a full mattress instead of a twin, but it’s still pushed up against the wall beneath the window. If I sit up, I’ll be looking directly into Liam’s childhood bedroom window.
He moved into his parents’ annex over a decade ago, but he was still less than a minute’s walk away. We had phones by then, and no need for flashlights, so it didn’t matter that our windows didn’t line up anymore.
I still have my own flashlight on my windowsill, but it probably needs new batteries by now. As kids, Liam and I learned Morse code so we could communicate between our rooms at night. It was absurdly cheesy, and yet so comforting.
As I look up at my ceiling now, I find myself wishing, not for the first time, that we’d never had to grow up. My da wouldn’t have died, my mam wouldn’t have left, Liam wouldn’t be burdened with running a criminal empire.
But then, there’d be no thrill of danger. There’d be no real Liam.
I rest my hand on my fluttering stomach. The sight of that poor boy choking to death… There was no thrill in that. I saw Liam’s face. It was the same as when he knocked Gus to the ground. Liam took no satisfaction in his cruelty, not in the way men like Harrison do. What Liam did in the basement and at the airfield were unpleasant responsibilities for him, more burdens that he has to carry.
I let out a long breath into the dark. I don’t have to support what he does, I just have to support him.
There’s peace in that thought. As my eyelids drift closed, a burst of light shines across the ceiling. Bright white, then dark. My eyes snap fully open. Bright white, then dark.
With a gasp, I sit up and pull the curtain all the way back. I barely breathe as I grab the notebook and pen next to my flashlight on the windowsill.
Two short bursts. My heart beats in my throat, and I feel a rush of hope and relief bubbling up as tears in my eyes.
In my pocket-sized notebook, I scribble the letter I.
Chapter 36
Liam
I’M SORRY
When I’m done clicking out the letters, I set down the flashlight. I want to scrub my hands over my face, but I’m not risking any glance away from Brioni’s window. I’m trying my best not to blink.
I was stupid not to bring a chair to the window of this unused bedroom. Now I’m standing vigil. She saw my light. She pulled back the curtain. She got my message.
But she’s not replying.
It was one of my worst ideas to date. I horrified my compassionate Brioni by nearly killing a boy in front of her. And then thought I could atone by way of a few flashlight clicks.
If Da says I’m ready to lead, then I am. But I don’t want to take this next step without her.
I stare into the void beyond the window. The moon’s out, bright enough to see the individual bricks of Brioni’s house. Little outlines of perfection that assemble into something strong and purposeful. A barricade to keep assholes like me away.
