She stands there the whole time with her mouth gawping open and the glass in her hand trembling.
“Y-you shot him while Jodie was only a foot away,” she says, her eyes wide with fear. “But if you miss—”
“I wouldn’t have missed. I wouldn’t hurt a hair on her head.”
“But— Shit, Toby. You killed him.”
I shrug. It’s nothing new to me.
“I was nine when I killed my first man, Joanne. The man you built a home with stood right by my side as I did it. I remember how violently my hand was trembling, but I knew I couldn’t get out of it. I was terrified. The man tied to the chair was terrified. I didn’t care how bad he was, how much he might have deserved it. I was a kid.
“But Jonas stood beside me and told me that I was a useless part of the Family if I couldn’t do it, and that I might as well be the one in that chair if I couldn’t man up and show my worth.”
“You were just a child,” Joanne whispers, her eyes full of unshed tears.
“In age, yes. But I was never really a child, Joanne. None of us were. We’ve been trained for this life from the moment we were born. It was our destiny. To protect, to serve, to conquer. I’ve done so many bad things, mostly to bad people,” I add. “And I know what I did with Jodie is unforgivable but—”
“You don’t need to explain this to me,” she says, reaching out to place her hand on my forearm.
“I do. I—” I let out a pained breath. “I need you to know that I’ll never hurt her again. I couldn’t see past my anger, my need for revenge to see how I really felt. How she really made me feel.”
“And how is that?” Joanne asks, finally taking another sip of her drink.
“I love her,” I state, the words feeling so right as they roll off my tongue. “I can’t imagine a life without her in it.”
She nods, a small smile playing on her lips.
“I know you don’t want to hear it. But I’ve been in your position. I fell so hard and fast for Jonas, I swear I still feel the whiplash from it. I just really hope he hasn’t caused too much damage on your soul, because I want so much more for Jodie than the life that man gave me.”
“I’m not going to lie, Joanne. I’m pretty fucking damaged.”
“We all are,” she says, her eyes focusing on something over my shoulder. “But it’s how we deal with it, how we try to heal that really matters.”
I nod, unable to do anything but agree with her.
“And my Jodie is going to need to figure out how to do that, and I know it hurts, but you might just have to accept that she needs to do it away from you.”
“I know,” I say sadly. “But I’m not letting her go.”
“You’re a good boy, Toby. I know all the bad stuff. I battled with it all myself over the years. I remember him coming home covered in blood, his knuckles splitting open as he scattered the kind of weapons I thought I’d only see on the TV across the counter.
“But it’s not me you need to be proving anything to.”
“I know, I’m working on it,” I say with a sad laugh.
She lifts her arm, glancing at her watch.
“It’s late. You should get some sleep.”
I nod, swallowing down another mouthful of whisky. I already know there’s no way I’m going to be able to sleep after the events of the night, but I can’t deny that the girl asleep upstairs isn’t calling to me.
When I’ve had enough, I upend the bottle over the sink and watch the rest of Jonas’s precious whisky run down the drain, unable to keep the smirk off my face.
“You deserved better than him,” Joanne says quietly behind me.
“I had my mum. She’s incredible.”
“I’m glad. I’d really like to meet her one day too, if that’s not too weird.”