He shifted nervously. “It can’t be that easy. I’m scared to believe it. Daire and I can’t wait any longer. I want to be his husband.” He swallowed deeply, the apple in his throat bobbing. “When Sloan gets out, we can have a big wedding. But for now?—”
“You want to get married,” I finished.
I couldn’t stop them. In a way, I understood. Technically, they’d been together for over eight years, even if they hadn’t been official. I forced myself to smile and dropped my hands from his face to his shoulders, giving them a squeeze. “Congratulations, Fionn. I really am happy for you. And I’m proud of you. I may not be your papa, but I am your friend.”
He flushed, his smile so wide it almost blinded me. Who knew Fionn had a grin like that? He certainly didn’t use it a lot. “Youcouldbe my papa, but you have to get Sloan to propose first.”
I laughed and thought about telling him what Sloan had told me during the conjugal visit but brushed the thought away. This was Fionn’s moment. I wasn’t going to take it away from him. He’d waited to be in the spotlight for a long time.
Someone appeared in my peripheral vision, and I glanced in that direction, freezing at the sight of the man standing in the hallway.
Dad.
He wasn’t real, he couldn’t be. He was dead. Terrance had killed him.
Dad leaned a shoulder against the wall, one of his favorite Cuban cigars clutched between the fingers of his right hand. He raised it to his mouth, taking a long pull, holding the smoke in for a moment before blowing it out.
“Conall?” Fionn was distant as I kept my focus on Dad.
He was just as I remembered him. Dark hair, balding slightly at the forehead, and cold blue eyes. He had a small scar right above his lip where Mom had thrown a glass at him once, and his nose was bent from where someone had punched him and broken it. In the middle of his forehead was a bullet hole in the exact same spot Terrance shot him.
“He’s lying to ye,” Dad said, his tone wispy, as though he wasn’t reallyherewith us. But his voice had the same gruffness Iremembered as a child and it sent an icy shiver down my spine. His Irish accent was still as thick as it’d always been, even after years in the US. “Yer man isn’t getting out of jail. He’s staying there. Goin’ to prison for years.”
“No,” I whispered.
“No what?” Fionn stepped in front of me, hiding Dad, and I shifted slightly to see him again.
Dad shook his head, a cruel laugh spilling from his lips. “Ye’re a fucking failure, Conall. Ye’ve always been a tosser, haven’t ye? I told yer ma we should have drowned ye when ye were born. Could tell ye’d embarrass me.”
“Are you mad at me?” Fionn asked.
Couldn’t he see Dad? No, of course he couldn’t. Dad wasdead. I’d seen Terrance put that bullet in Dad’s head. So why was he here?
Threads of fear and anxiety wove their way through me, knotting themselves around my heart until I couldn’t breathe. The memories of Dad’s abuse, of his unrelentingly brutal punishments, that’d been burned into my brain resurfaced, playing like a movie in front of me. There weren’t many people I was truly afraid of, but Dad had been one of them. He’d made my childhood hell.
Dad shoved himself straight and began to walk toward me, and each step amped up my anxiety. Sweat drenched my forehead, and I wiped at it with the back of my wrist, taking a deep breath, but it did nothing for my racing heart that I thought would rip through my chest.
“Don’t you see him?” I whispered, not sure if I was talking to Fionn or not.
He heard me anyway and glanced behind himself, right in line of sight with Dad, but nothing flickered over his face. “See who?” He looked back at me, eyebrows dipping in concern.“Conall, I think I should call Rory now.” He went to move past me, but I grasped his elbow, forcing a laugh out of my chest.
“I’m fine. I told you I’d contact him tomorrow. It’s not worth it to bring him here tonight.” I focused on Fionn’s worried expression and ignored Dad as he closed in on us. He walked slow—deliberate—and the closer he got, the higher my anxiety rose. He always knew how to scare me. Once, he’d terrified me so much when I was a kid that I pissed myself, and he’d laughed in response.
I needed to get rid of Fionn. Now. I had to protect him from Dad. Fionn didn’t deserve the same punishments I’d received.
“Look at ye,” Dad sneered, giving me a slow once-over with disgust twisting his mouth. “Is this what I raised ye to be? A bloody whore? Because that’s what ye’re dressed like. A fecking shame to yer family name.”
“I’m going to bed. Don’t tell Sloan. You’ll only worry him. I swear I’m okay.” I gave Fionn a shaky smile and swept around him, heading toward my bedroom. As soon as I was safely inside, I slammed the door closed and pressed my forehead to the wood.
I’mfine.
I’m safe.
Dad wasn’t alive and he couldn’t hurt me. Sloan would never let him. Even while in jail, Sloan protected me, and I’d learned how to fight now through Fallon. I could defend myself. I wasn’t the weak kid Dad used to yell at and hit.
“Is this where ye spread yer legs?” Dad’s sharp voice sliced through the air behind me, and I spun, nearly toppling over in the process.
He was sitting in the gray leather armchair near the window, the same one Sloan liked to sit in when we were having a morning or afternoon conversation. He had his leg crossed over his knee and he looked relaxed, yet mean. He wasalwaysfucking mean.
