Mikayla whimpered and my attention switched to her, knowing I had to get her indoors, fed and in bed before Harry came home. I wasn’t in the mood to put up with his moaning tonight, and I didn’t have it in me to placate him and duck his slaps.
Next week I started my new job, and I’d be able to save enough money to get me and Mikayla out of this house. She was getting older and more mobile now. I didn’t want my baby to grow up in a home like I had, where fists and hurtful words were used regularly, where they were used so often that you became numbto it. I didn’t want my baby to fall into the same pattern that I’d done. Leaving one abusive home for another.
I want more for her. I want her to live in a home filled with love, and where hands soothe rather than hurt. Where every word spoken isn’t used to pull you down but rather build you up.
I want her to have more than me. I want her to feel safe to be herself.
Opening our front door, I’m sad to lose the safety of his watchful gaze, but I know he’ll be there again tomorrow. When Mikayla lets out a niggly cry, I hustle to get us situated in the kitchen and get some food for her.
It’s pushing on for midnight when I finish tidying up the house after giving Mikayla her last bottle of the night. Harry hasn’t come home, and I doubt very much he will. He’s not been home much the last few weeks, and for that I’m grateful.
A knock on the door has my brow furrowing with surprise. It’s never good getting a knock after ten in the evening, it doesn't usually bode well.
When a knock sounds again, this time louder, I hurry to the door. I don’t want whoever it is to wake Mikayla after I’ve just gotten her settled down.
Lifting the curtain to the side of the door, my stomach sinks, but I’m not surprised to see two Garda standing there. One male and a female. When you’d lived the life I had, they were a sight yougot used to, even if you didn’t like it. Which of my family are they here for this time? Not that I’ve had anything to do with my family since I left home.
Unlocking the door, I drag it open. “Can I help you?” I ask.
They look at me and it’s the female one that asks, “Are you Moira Ryan?”
“I am,” I reply with a nod.
“We’re Reilly and Doherty from The River Garda just down aways. Here’s our warrant cards,” she holds out her card, and I glance at it.
“Do you think we could come in for a minute, Miss Ryan?” Garda Doherty asks gently.
With the way they are looking at me and the way they’re acting, I know something bad has happened.
I grip the edge of the door so tight that my fingers turn white. “Just tell me. Which of my family is it?”
They share a look. When I don’t budge out of the door, not wanting them in my house, it’s the female Reilly that speaks. “Does Harry Lynch live here?”
“He does,” I reply through tight lips, wishing that my benevolent protector was here watching me. I could do with a feeling ofsafety right now, because I have a feeling that whatever they were about to tell me would be changing my life.
“Are you sure we can’t do this inside?” Reilly asks.
I shake my head again. “Just tell me.”
Doherty sighs, “We’re sorry to tell you Miss Ryan that the person known as Harry Lynch was found killed this evening.”
Even though I’d long ago made my decision to leave Harry, that didn’t mean that the news didn’t hit me right in the gut and take my breath away.
Bending over, I breathe in and out, trying to make sense of what they’re saying.
They let me take the time and when I feel like I can breathe I ask, “Are you sure it’s him?”
They nod sympathetically. “We are. He had his identification on him.”
“What happened?” Even as I ask the question, I know the answer. Harry had been in deep debt with one of the local gangs, and he’d probably done something to piss them off.
They hesitate again, looking between each other.
“Tell me please, if Harry was into shit that will affect the safety of me and my daughter then I need to know.”
They share another glance. If this is the area they patrol, they know what the quality of people that live here is like. It should be no surprise to them that I’d know Harry wasn’t just a builder like he portrayed.
“It looks like it was gang related,” Reilly informs me. “Did you know he was affiliated with them?”
