“Eoghan. Where are you, son?”
“I’m in Scotland, on my way home.”
“Stay where you are and don’t do anything without running it by me first. Do you understand?”
“Why? What’s happened?”
This is the part that fucking tears me in two. “Your brother has been shot.”
“Is he… How bad is it?” Eoghan’s voice has dropped, the phone held close to contain the call like this might somehow make it less real.
“It’s bad.” I force the words out; the first time I’ve acknowledged it out loud. “He’s dead.”
For the next few days, Amelia brings food into the study three times a day, removing the untouched plates and replacing them with a thermos filled with black coffee.
“Declan please eat something,” she says when she returns to the study late on the day I found out that my eldest son had been murdered.
It feels like a cut-off point. Before and after.
My fist closes around the brandy glass. I’ve avoided looking at her until then, but when I peer into her eyes, I know that she deserves better. She’s the last person I should be taking my anger out on.
“I’m not hungry.” I can’t say with any degree of certainty what I feel right now, but I do know that food won’t help. “Amelia…”
She smiles, and my heart yearns to touch her. To pull her into my arms, crush her against my chest, and promise to protect her with my miserable fucking life, for what it’s worth. But I don’t want her involved. If the Murrays find out what she means to me… I can’t have her life on my conscience too…
“Thank you…” I say instead.
For caring.
For not running at the first sign of trouble.
For being the glimmer of light at the end of a long, murderously black tunnel.
“Are you coming up…” She leaves the question hanging.
“I think I’ll stay here for a while.”
She nods and leaves with one final glance over her shoulder that means she’ll be waiting for me in her room whenever I decide that I’m ready.
I spend the night in my leather seat in the study.
I don’t deserve to sleep. My son will never again wake up to a new day in this beautiful country. He’ll never see another sunset. He’ll never get married and hold his baby in his arms. Why do I deserve happiness and comfort?
Eoghan disobeys my orders to stay where he is.
I lose track of the hours spent in my study reliving all the things I could’ve done differently to save Ruairi when Eoghan knocks on the door and enters the room without waiting to be invited.
My youngest son resembles his mother. Same eyes, same smile. I found it hard to look at him after Niamh died. Maybe I pushedhim away more than I realized, but that’s another cross for me to bear.
“Sit down, son.”
He remains standing, looking lost, as if he stumbled here by chance. This affects him too. He’s my heir now. The only person I can wholeheartedly trust.
“I need you to step up, Eoghan. The Murrays fired the first bullet, but we will fire the last.”
We.
Eoghan will inherit my empire now, but I’m the one who will watch Caleb Murray take his final breath. Until then, my life will be in limbo.
