“Ye finally found me, baby boy.”
“Ma…” I start toward her, wanting to hug her or even watch her closer.
“Don’t.” She holds up a hand, stopping me in my tracks. “If you come closer, I’ll disappear.”
“Why would you disappear?”
“You found me but ye didn’t find yer father yet, right?”
“Dad is the reason ye’re gone, Ma. He’s the reason I had to become like this. Have ye forgotten?”
“No, but ye have to find yer father, and if ye can, forgive him.”
“I’m not exactly a ghost hunter.”
“He’s not a wee ghost. He’s by yer side, too. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry yer mammy was a such a disgrace.”
“What are ye talking about? It wasn’t yer fault.”
“It was, and ye and Niall paid for it. Now, ye’re paying again, and so is yer wife.”
“What does Rai have to do with this…?” I trail off when my wife appears beside Mum and places her hand in hers. She’s wearing a white nightgown, but bruises cover her porcelain skin, as I left her this morning. Her hair falls to her shoulders in disarray, and mascara streaks down her pale cheeks.
I swallow, forcing myself to look at her. “Rai? What are you doing here?”
She says nothing, her lips thinned in a line, and I hate that I can’t listen to her voice even now. What was I thinking? I already left and there’s no going back.
But can I have a last touch? Just once more.
I step toward them, wanting to take them both somewhere no one can find them. A large figure appears behind them, and the unmistakable click of a gun ripples in the air.
My legs stick to what’s underneath them as Rolan’s shadowed face comes into view.
I reach into my waistband for my gun, but my hands find nothing. Fuck. I bend over to search at my ankle, but the knife isn’t there either.
Fuck. Fuck!
A smirk lifts Rolan’s lips as he places the gun to Mum’s head then slides it to Rai’s. “Choose one, my lad.”
“Take me! I’m the one you want, right?”
“Not really.”
A shot rings in the air and a patch of blood covers my mother’s chest in the same place as it had thirty years ago.
I run toward them, but it’s too late.
Rai clutches her middle and falls to her knees, blood gurgling from her lips. A tear slides down and clings to her upper lip as scarlet red explodes from her stomach.
“No,” I whisper, then roar, “Noooo!”
I startle awake, my clothes sticking to my body with sweat and my pulse close to beating out of my throat.
For a moment, I think I’m in that dark, rotten place and if I look down, I’ll find my mother’s and Rai’s bodies lying lifeless at my feet.
“Ye’re finally awake, Sleeping Beauty.”
My head jerks up, and just like in the nightmare, Rolan is standing in front of me, holding a gun in his hand. The only difference is, we’re not in that tunnel anymore. We’re in a gray room with a metal door. The only furniture is a table covered in torture devices: nail clippers, whips, screwdrivers, and knives. Nothing I haven’t seen over the years.
I’m tied to a chair by thick ropes around my wrists and torso, the thing digging into my skin with how strong the knot is.
A few of Rolan’s guards are stationed near the wall. Flame is one of them. Thank fuck.
I try not to squint at him or draw attention. He’s wearing black trousers and a plain gray T-shirt. His red beard is trimmed and his bland blue eyes are watching me as if I’m a cockroach. He’s always been the best at controlling his facial expressions.
“I have to admit,” Rolan continues, “I hadn’t thought the Russians’ sniper would show up at my door like a wee stray kitten.”
“Surprise, motherfucker.” I grin.
He narrows his eyes. I might not remember my uncle from when we lived under the same roof, but due to later research, I know he doesn’t like it when things don’t go according to his plan.
“You don’t recognize me, do you?” I scoff. “But then again, why would an old man like you recall the good ol’ days?”
I keep staring at him. If I’m already caught, might as well face him. Besides, it’s my chance to buy Flame time so he can get me out of here.
Rolan places the muzzle of his gun at my cheek, then uses it to make me show him the other side of my face. “I suspected it was ye. I thought ye’d be dead in a hole ’bout now.”
“Obviously, I’m not dead, Uncle. As I said, surprise, motherfucker.”
“Don’t call me uncle, ye filthy bastard.”
“Why? You don’t like thinking about how you murdered your own brother in cold blood?”
“I was never yer fecking uncle. Your whore mother was pregnant with ye before marrying Niall and hid it. But even when I gave my brother all the evidence to get rid of her and ye, he still had a soft spot for that fecking harlot. I had no choice but to do it myself because my brother wasn’t fit to lead us. He was too weak and didn’t deserve to be boss. I did. So I just took it.”