It was such a shame to hear about your accident, son, but you know how cars can be, such dangerous things really. Anything can go wrong at any time; we all know that.
You’re a lucky man.
I also hear congratulations are in order. What a pretty new wife you have. Niamh, isn’t it? That bar of hers has to be a favorite of mine to frequent. Maybe I can introduce myself, welcome her to the family.
Do feel better, son.
There’s a little gift for you in this box.
Enjoy it, and don’t forget I’m never far away. It has been a long time since we caught up, perhaps we should do that soon.
Until then.
Nausea churns in my gut as I throw the card down and rip open the box, the idle threat beneath his scrawl making my heart thump wildly.
I’m never far away.
And Niamh. He knows. He’s seen her, been near her — at her fucking bar!
Tearing away the tape sealing the sides, I get inside only to pull out two sets of cables.
“Are those brake lines?” Silas asks, a frown replacing his ire.
“Brake —” My words cut off as realization dawns. “Niamh.”
My eyes snap up, but she’s already gone, the truck out of view and probably already on the way to town.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Silas hollers as I rush in and snatch up my own keys, sprinting to my truck to throw myself inside. He got to her.
Fuck!
“Roman!” Silas chases after me, only just managing to get in the passenger side before I shove the vehicle into reverse, his door not even closed. He curses as he pulls it shut, reaching for his seat belt.
“You want to tell me what the hell is going on?” Silas demands as I speed down the long drive after my wife.
“He got to her.” I rush out. “They’re her brake lines.”
Silas’s eyes widen. “When?”
“I don’t fucking know,” I snap at him. “That box and card, it was from him. He got to her, Silas. Fuck.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” Silas tries to soothe. “Those lines could be from anywhere.”
“He did it to mom,” I yell, the fields and mountains passing in a blur outside the windows. “We all fucking know it, he’s been waiting for this moment since that failed to get him what he wants. He’s going to keep fucking punishing us.”
“Breathe, Rome,” Silas urges. “Let’s just find her.”
But in my head, I’m seeing what I saw all those years ago. Pictures of the car smashed up against the tree, smoke curling up from beneath the hood. I’m remembering having to identify the body, the paleness of her skin, the gray and blue tints, the dried blood and bruising.
I only just found her; I can’t fucking lose her yet.
We finally make it to the end of the drive, and my tires skid as I turn onto the road, throwing up dust and gravel behind me. We’ve barely made it a mile when I see her or, rather, the tail end of the truck, jutting up and out of a ditch on the side of the road as smoke curls into the air.
Slamming on the brakes, I leave the engine running as my boots hit the ground and I sprint to her, jumping into the ditch to the side of the car. The cloying stench of gasoline surrounds me as the ground moves under my feet as I try to get to her, rocks and dirt shifting with my weight.
“Roman!” Silas is yelling, but I can’t think of anything else. The front of the truck is smashed up, the windows too, and when I finally get a look inside, Niamh is slumped against the deflated airbag, blood running down her face, eyes closed.
“Call a fucking ambulance!” I roar, yanking at the door handle to reach her. She’s too fucking still, and that blood… It’s splattered over the airbag, all over her face and in her hair.
