I thought he was just trying to keep me distracted from Aiden’s abduction; I didn’t know that he and Joe had found out more information. Someone better get comfortable on the couch because he is NOT allowed into my bed for a looooong time after this.
Stupid, sexy Joe.
It was only when Jason came barging into the office, fumbled with the remote, and turned on the news that I felt like I swallowed a fucking cactus and was about to hack up a prickly hairball.
All the blood in my body seemed to rush between my ears because I didn’t make out a single word the news anchor said. I was so focused on what was going on behind her.
Gardaí and fire brigades swarm a warehouse down the arse end of nowhere. The building belches flames up to fiftyfeet high, smoke billowing into the sky like a dark, ominous cloud. I feel overheated to the point of almost fainting, yet I can’t stop trembling, my teeth chattering, and anxiety overwhelming me, causing a cold sweat.
We watch, and watch, and watch the live broadcast for what seems like an eternity. I can only imagine what Katie is feeling in this instant. Robbie… Sandra. If I were not so hypnotised by the screen, I’d ring and check on them, but I’m terrified to move, to breathe, or to do anything that might break the trance of fear that has consumed me.
I’ve bitten my nails until they bled, my knuckles showing the same signs of stress as I clench my fists and bite down on my curled index finger. The fire that has now been extinguished has me taking stock of every bin in the room in case the nausea that rises in my throat becomes too overwhelming to bear.
“Please not Aiden. Please not Aiden. Please. Please. Please. Please. Please not Aiden,” I whisper to myself over and over, the panic rising in my chest like a tidal wave. The fire fighters are pouring inside the building, and I feel myself swaying on my feet.
Jay wraps an arm around me, holding me tightly against his broad chest as he whispers reassurances in my ear.
The cameras cut back to the news anchor a moment later.
It has just been confirmed that a body has been found in the wreckage of the building. The person is believed to be male; no identification has been made yet.
“Christ on a bike.” I throw up a little in my mouth, the reality of the situation hitting me like a tonne of bricks. Jay’s grip tightens around me, and I can feel his heart racing against mine as we watch in horror.
“Not Aiden,” I beg, tears spilling from my eyes as I cling to Jay for support. “It can’t be him; he’s too much of a stubborn bastard to die like this. It can’t be him.” My entire body trembles despite Jay’s attempt to steady me.
Craig steps in beside us, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and squeezing gently. “Deep breaths, kiddo.”
“W-W-Wooosa,” I mutter through chattering teeth, trying to calm myself down. Another few minutes pass when the screen cuts to the paramedics carrying a stretcher and a black body bag out of the wreckage. “I can’t watch!” I bury my face in Jay’s chest, unable to bear the sight. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and after several failed attempts, I finally manage to pull it out.
Joe’s name lights up my screen. For the first time ever, I don’t want to answer his call. I’m petrified. Craig can see it in my eyes as my gaze jumps to his soft, cloudy greys.
“Do you want me to answer it for you?” he offers, his voice gentle and reassuring.
I nod gratefully, handing him the phone, too chicken shit to hear the news. As if I can delude myself into thinking this isn’t happening if I ignore it for a little longer.
I watch Craig’s expression shift as he listens to Joe on the other end. I hate that I can hear every single word of the conversation, but still, I can’t seem to grow the metaphorical balls to take the phone back and face reality.
“Are you sure?” Craig asks softly, concern etched in his features.
“Nobody can be sure until they can get DNA. The body is badly burned, but…”
My knees buckle, and Jay is the only thing preventing me from completely collapsing to the ground. I close my eyes andtake a deep breath, trying to prepare myself for what comes next.
“Some tattoos can be made out despite the charred skin,” Joe continues to my utter dismay.
“That doesn’t mean anything,” I sob. Jay pulls me into a tight hug, offering silent support. “Walsh has tattoos—horrible, cheap—dragons that look like a toddler drew them. It’s him. It has to be him!”
Joe obviously hears me as he goes silent, forcing Craig to ask, “What kind of tattoos, Joe?”
I swear I can hear my heart skip a beat the very second my husband’s voice sounds through the phone. “Celtic knots.”
The scream that tears from my throat embodies devastation and despair as the harsh reality crashes over me. My worst fears have come true, there’s no denying it.
“He’s dead.” My nails dig deep into Jay’s skin, leaving half-moon imprints, yet he remains unfazed. Slowly, he lowers us to the floor and holds me tightly as I cry uncontrollably. “Aiden’s dead!”
The rest of the world may see him as a monster, but he will forever be the boy who protected me and stole my heart at fourteen. The boy who made sure that I never went hungry, who would share his lunches with me when I had none. The boy who promised to always keep me safe, even if it meant sacrificing himself in the process—the boy who eventually turned into darkness and soon had the shadows themselves scattering in fear. But in my eyes, he will always be the one who showed me kindness and love when no one else did.
My vision clears for a split second as I look up to the heavens, but my treacherous eyes land on the TV screen as the body bag he was zipped into is loaded into an ambulance.
