“If you were don, you would understand,” Da grimaces. “But I can see now that I was wrong. Wrong about both you and Sean. Neither one of you have what it takes.”
“So what’s the plan then, Da?” I ask bitterly. “Pinning all your hopes on your last remaining child? The ten-year-old who just wants to play with his trains?”
“I will not make the same mistakes with Kian.”
“I won’t let you hurt my brother.”
“You’re the one hurting him,” Da says harshly. “If you stay, your very presence will put him in danger. And I won’t let you hurt my only son.”
I blink at him.
His only son.
He says what he means. Always has. Always will.
This is meant as a dagger to my chest.
It’s a fucking bullseye.
“You have three hours,” Da says again. “If you’re not out of Ireland in that time, I can’t guarantee your safety.”
Slowly, acceptance is beginning to sink in. There is no way out of this. Without my father’s protection, I’m a sitting duck.
I have to leave.
My head is whirling. “I don’t even get to say goodbye?” I ask. “To Ma? To Kian?”
“There isn’t enough time.”
“Wouldn’t have made a difference if there was, would it?”
He shakes his head. “No. It wouldn’t.” Da pulls out a wad of cash from the left pocket of his coat. “Here. For your new life.”
Then he pulls out a shiny black Glock and presses it into the palm of my hand.
“This is just in case.”
I accept the cash and the gun numbly. Then Da opens up my cell door. I step out of it, but suddenly, I’m not in a rush to leave.
Leaving this cell means leaving the country.
It means I’ll never see my mother again.
My brother.
Saoirse.
It’s too much to process. Makes me feel fucking nauseous. I have to focus on one thing at a time.
First, I make sure the gun is hidden away in the waistband of my pants, under my shirt.
“You said I have three hours?” I ask, tucking the money away in the pocket of my trousers.
“Clock’s ticking,” Da says with a frown that suggests he suspects where my mind is going. “Don’t be a fool. Go straight to the airport. Donal Maher will be waiting for you at the second terminal entrance. He has clean documents. A new identity.”
My brain feels like it’s short-circuiting, but I force back the crushing weight that’s pushing down on me.
I can’t lose it.