“I’m not—”
“Have jumped into harm’s way more than any—”
“Let me go,” I croak.
“Alright then, Ava.”
One second the tree bark grates into my back, the next, I’m kneeling on roots, dirt, and leaves. Kieran’s hand twines in my hair. I glance up at him. The emerging sun whispers through the trees.
“You wanna know something, girl,” he tells me while I scream and flail my legs, hands clasping at tiny bits of sprigs. “You were a quarter of a kilometer from the north. Less than twenty yards from plunging to your death. You almost killed yourself after all.”
“Stop . . .”
“That’s our destination, by the way, lass.”
Tiny bits of soil embed beneath my fingernails as I scratch into the ground. While Kieran drags me, I attempt to appeal to Mother Nature. Anything. Funny how, with my ass dragged over dirt and tree roots, I can see night fade away. First light peeks through the trees.
“Please, Kieran, please.” I call his name. “Your mother wouldn’t like this . . . Your mother . . .”
The movement stops. Fire radiates from my bruised ass cheeks. Kieran stoops down, forearm on his knee, head tilted. His unkept hair grazes across his soulless eyes.
“What’s that, lassie?” Kieran asks in a heavy brogue.
“Your mother,” I begin, assessing how to follow through. Will I further anger him by giving a negative reprimand? Or should I remind Kieran that his mother wasniceper his own acknowledgment? And what is his version ofnice?
Fuck it. I walked on eggshells with Adnan for a time.
My breath fogs out around me as I pant. “Your mother would be ashamed of you.”
“Mam died ashamed of me,” Kieran bites out, ending his statement with the little bit of Gaelic I can’t comprehend. The tone and inflection are endearing. As if, perchance, Kieran’s referring to someone he cares about. Seconds later, his hand scoops around my throat, and I’m dangling on my tippy toes. The first light of sun flows down around us. Beneath my feet is a drop-off—a hundred feet down.
18
Kieran
“Mam died ashamed of me,eun beag,” I murmur,little birdin Mam’s Scottish Gaelic.
“Aye, Kieran. Ashamed, disgusted. You are no son of mine. You might as well have held the knife that murdered your da!”Mam whispers in my ears. She’s standing right next to us.
To think, the first couple of days with Ava accompanying me, Mam had disappeared. I thought her ghost had fled the earth for good. Thought that she’d found peace in heaven. No, Mam’s here, still hellbent on torturing me.
Mam snaps, “Why didn’t I drink myself under a table the day I found out I was pregnant? Drink myself to abortion. But I was so happy. Your da was elated. You ruined our lives.”
Mam’s screaming rockets my eardrums. I’m holding something in my hand, something with a consistent beat.
“Let go!”Mam shouts.
“Let go of me! I hate you.”
I cling tighter to her. “You’ve Kiera to attend to, Mam. If I could bring Da back?”
“Aye, you would! You’d play God, return your father to me.” Her foul, scotch-laced breath hits me like a ton of bricks as I wrap her in my arms. Nan said to hug her. Hug her and remind her what she must live for. Hug her and don’t take stock in her words. She’ll say the meanest things to break your heart, son, is what Nan had said. She’d smiled and said they were in a single scuffle as wee lassies. They’d argued over the same guy. Nan had said a striking face brainwashed mysweetmam. Same for herself. She’d said Mam could be cruel.
I didn’t believe it.
Now, I do. I wrap my arms around my mother, clinging to her frail body. The bit of vomit on her cheek brushes across my skin.
“Let me go. Let me go!”Mam snarls at me.