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“Tadhg. Go with Ollie.”
“But I—”
“Please,” I strangled out, chest heaving at the sight of the blood smeared all over his face. “Go upstairs and pack your bags, kid.”
After a ten-second stare-down, he relented and hurried for the stairs. Only when the smaller children were out of sight could I focus on my sister. I didn’t want to. I wanted to run away and hide, but I forced myself to take in the sight of her mangled body.
“You’re okay,” I lied, dropping to my knees beside her, feeling more broken in this moment than at any other in my living memory. “I’m here.” I gently lifted her into my arms. “I’m here, Shan.”
She slumped against me like a rag doll, and panic seared me because I just knew that this time was worse. This time, he’d damaged her worse than ever.
“You’re bleeding,” Mam was wailing. “Oh god, Teddy.”
That was all it took.
Those words were all it took for me to lose hold of the small shrivel of self-restraint I had managed to garner. “Are you fucking blind? She is bleeding. Shannon. Your daughter!”
“Shannon.” Mam blinked rapidly like she was coming out of some sort of haze, and her expression caved. “Oh, baby, your face—”
“Don’t you dare ‘oh, baby’ her,” I snapped, carefully lifting my sister to her feet. She wobbled and slumped against me like a newborn baby foal, and her lack of balance and coordination only increased my panic.
Because this was bad.
This was so fucking bad.
“You’re okay,” I continued to coax, as I carried her over to the table and set her down on a chair. “You’re okay. I’m here.” Snatching up a tea towel, I pressed it to the side of her face where most of the blood seemed to be coming from. “I’m right here, Shan.”
“Shannon, I didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t fucking speak to her, creep!” I roared, taking a protective stance in front of the chair my sister was slumped on when that bastard tried to speak to her. “I will kill you. Do ya hear me? I will slit your fucking throat if you so much as look at my sister again!”
How dare he look at her? How dare he fucking say he didn’t mean to hurt her?
Everything that man had ever done had been orchestrated with intentional malice and cruelty. He was only sorry now because he knew as well as I did that he had gone too far this time. He did something in this kitchen that couldn’t be hidden or buried. It was over for him, and the bastard knew it.
Instead of feeling glad about that, I felt on edge. Because Teddy Lynch was never more dangerous and unpredictable than when he was cornered, and right now, the bastard was backed in deep.
The boys returned to the kitchen a few moments later with their backpacks laden down with clothes and toys, and I sagged in relief to see Sean’s unmarked face.
He was okay.
The baby is okay.
“Now, here’s how this is going to go,” I said when all three of my brothers rushed to stand behind me. “Either you find some maternal instinct deep inside that cold fucking heart of yours and put that bastard out for good,” I said, addressing our mother, “or I’m taking these kids out of this house and they are never coming back.”
“Joey, I’m so sorry—”
“Don’t apologize.” I cut her off and snapped, “Protect your children and put him out.”
“Joey, I—”
“Make a choice, Mam.” I mentally willed her to do the right thing for once in her life. I knew she was scared. So was I. But these kids deserved better. She needed to be better, dammit, because this version of a mother wasn’t good enough to keep a litter of kittens safe. “Him or us!”
“Joey, if you just calm down for a moment—”
“Don’t you fucking dare try to talk your way out of this.” I seethed, feeling my heart crack with every second that ticked by that she didn’t choose us. “Just do the right thing for once in your fucking life and put him out!”
“Joey, can we just—”
