“Ethan isn’t at home, so he still has space.”
I paused, my jaw locking in anger. “Because of Ivy.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Yeah.”
“Fuck,” I muttered. Ethan was already distant by nature—the death of his mother made him cold. But becoming the Ceann Na Conairte so young only made him lock the rest of himself in ice. He became more dispassionate…the only breaks in his demeanor for his siblings. But all three of them were distant from each other. I’d hoped Ivy would at least warm him up some, be his fire. Now that she was gone, instead of a fire, she was like a shooting star in the North Pole. Pretty, unexpected, but fleeting and utterly useless. Ethan would most likely sink deeper inside himself, now…fuck…this isn’t what Liam wanted for him.
“He’s going to be back. And this time, we’re not going to let him have space. Space doesn’t apply to family.” He said seriously…making me look at him again.
“Who are you, and what did you do with my nephew?” I questioned, crossing my arms.
“I killed him,” he muttered under his breath, pausing to look to me. “I need you not to get caught up in who I was but who I am right now, because there is no learning curve on what we need to do.”
My eyebrow raised. “Learning? Kid, I remember teaching you how to scope.”
He laughed, pressing his badge on the panel near the double frosted doors labeled BCR.
“BCR?” I asked him.
“Burn Center Recovery,” he replied. “Where the last man who called me ‘kid’ is.”
Ignoring his latter statement, I grimaced at the former. “I thought we were getting brunch?”
“We are.” He grinned.
“You’re really going to depress my appetite before I eat?” I grumbled, followed inside to hell. No, not to hell, to those who’d barely escaped hell. That’s what it looked like. Everywhere, on the right and the left of me, were doctors tending to weeping, sobbing, or sleeping drugged burned victims. Children, women, men, but very few old people, all wrapped like mummies on beds. I noticed the names outside the glass rooms were either Irish or Italian.
“We were attacked?” I whispered to him.
“No.” He whispered back to me, pausing to look into one of the glass rooms. A brown-haired woman rested on a chair next to a small girl, who I could only assume was her daughter, trying to stay awake. Both of the older woman’s hands were wrapped in white bandages. But that looked less painful than the thick, cast-like bandages on her daughter’s arm. On the glass screen of the door was the name Mary Gore-Booth, her vitals appearing when Wyatt tapped the glass.
The woman looked up, and the moment she saw him, fear and rage—but mostly fear—spread across her face, engulfing her. She tensed up and sat straighter. It wasn’t the normal fear our family received, which was usually fear mixed with respect. No, the way Ms. Gore-Booth looked at him, you’d think it was a scene right out of a horror movie where the creature appears out of nowhere, staring right at you.
“No one was attacked, Uncle…they were just disciplined,” Wyatt whispered.
“You did this?” I said softly in disbelief.
He glanced up at me, and I knew why that look in his eyes felt so familiar. It was Melody. The look in his eyes, on his face, it was the same look I saw in his mother when she had done something….so ruthless that it would mentally shatter anyone who heard it.
“I hated having going to Bible study when I was a kid,” he admitted randomly. “In fact, I kinda thought God was a dick. Mom and Dad said we take care of our people. Then in the Bible I’d read how God would punish the Israelites, the ones he called ‘his people’ because of the actions of a few.” The corner of his lip turned up, and he shrugged. “I guess that’s because I was a kid. I didn’t think about the big picture. But now I do. God is responsible for his people, and his people are responsible for each other. So, if one person messes up and the rest of them do not take care of it, he must punish them all…so they all know they will be held accountable for the sins of their neighbors.”
I tried not to yell, looking around before muttering, “You did this so they’ll police each other?”
Uncaring, he spoke as if he didn’t care who heard. “I did this for many reasons. That is one of them. There will be no more rebellions. There will be no more feuds. There will be a long line behind my brother. They can get in it, or they can burn.”
It was in that moment I felt the chill gone down my spine. I realized that, for Ms. Gore-Booth, he might really be the creature from a horror movie.
“Dr. Callahan?” Turning to my right, two cops walked up to us…no, to the door. It took me much longer than it should have to put the pieces together, but when I did… I couldn’t speak. I was barely able to breathe.
Un-fucking-believable… I watched in absolute shock as the cop walked into Ms. Gore-Booth’s room. Her eyes shot to us…to him, the creature from her ongoing horror movie. They put her arms behind her back, and she must have been in shock too because she just stared at Wyatt as they took her out of her room.
“You framed her?” I whispered as they took her way.
“Both her and Moretti needed a special lesson,” he muttered, glaring down at the double doors. He blinked a little before focusing on me. “Now let’s get food! I’m starving, I’ve been up all night tending to burnt flesh. Urgh!”
I watched as he yawned, stretching his arms out as he walked away from the door…I had to pause for a moment and glance down at my arm. Sure enough, the hair had raised, and I had goosebumps. The same type I used to get when Liam and Melody showed the world how ruthless they could be.
DECLAN