Mum’s screams.
The gurgle from Da’s throat.
I feel it again.
The flight up that hill.
The temporary relief when I slid underground. The cold earth pressin’ in on me before I froze.
I smell it again.
The mud.
The blood.
The vomit.
Before, I had an automatic reaction to what had happened, like an arm jumpin’ when a nerve had been struck.
Kill.
This time, I felt the rush of somethin’ more powerful than anger froth in my veins. The unnamed thing was pushin’ me closer and closer to the moment of finality, whisperin’ new reminders in my ear:
Feel every strike of the weapon with purposes in mind.
Finish this with purposes in mind.
Revel in it once it was done with purposes in mind.
Give meanin’ to it with those same purposes in heart.
My parents, my siblin’, deserved that. A man who could feel what he was doing in honor of them. Not just an animal who ran on instinct alone.
Only a small section of beach separated me from my wife. The wind whipped between us. She turned around and smiled at me.
And the sun came out.
Everythin’ settled around me, even the chaos of the weather.
She’d changed into an outfit Fiona had gone out and bought for her. A long black sweatshirt that had BOSTON stamped on it in white letters, a pair of black leggings, and combat boots. Her hands were tucked inside the arms of the sweater, her fingers holdin’ on to the sleeves. She raised one and waved it at me before she took off runnin’ and wrapped her arms around my waist. Even though she told me not to, I picked her up with one arm, gruntin’ as I did. She wrapped her arms and legs around me and held on tight.
She leaned her head down and softly kissed my lips. “When you go, you go big, Cian O'Callaghan,” she breathed against my lips. She smoothed out the tightness in my forehead with her fingers when she realized I didn’t understand. She laughed, kissing me harder. “You gave me double purposes—twins!”
It felt like my heart tore away from my chest, and the rippin’ of it could be heard through my laughter. “Twins run in my family.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s right! Cash and Killian with aK. But how do you know…one boy, one girl? Camden and Caitlin.” Her voice came out softer on her mam’s name. “I really love those names, by the way.”
I nodded, then shrugged. “Just a feelin’.”
“What the Craigs left at our door,” she whispered, and then her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard. Her voice was tight. “How could they know?”
“They’re garbage diggers,” I said. “And they’re not goin’ to know for long.”
She studied my face, catchin’ my meanin’. She nodded and looked away from me.
“I was a kid before. I’m a man now. I’m not goin’ to let them hurt you.”
Her eyes whipped to mine. “I know.” Her voice was fierce. “It’s not me I’m worried about. It’s you.”
