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The car was waiting for us, the engine running—we never shut off cars in case there was a bomb set to explode upon triggering the ignition—and as we stepped outside into the cold night, that was when I heard it.
A soft sob.
It was barely audible over the noise from the engine, but I had good ears. Too good sometimes.
Twisting around, I blurted out, "Da, did you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"Someone’s crying," Junior mumbled, stepping away from the path toward the car and down the alleyway beside the convenience store where we’d stopped to buy some magazines for Ma.
She was in the hospital, and we were supposed to visit her tomorrow.
I’d asked what was wrong with her, and Da had called it, ‘women’s problems.’ Brennan said she wanted a break from Da and, for some reason, Junior had laughed at that.
Either way, I didn’t know which was true but I could think of nicer places than a hospital to get away from Da.
"Junior, where the fuck do you think you’re going?" Da snapped when Aidan headed down the alley, his boots clicking against the wet sidewalk. Da wafted a hand to tell his men to stand down, and to me, he groused, "Stay here, Conor."
Of course, I didn’t listen.
Whatever happened would end up with Junior getting a busted lip for disobeying; that was the only reason Da hadn’t sent his guards after my brother—disobedience wasn’t tolerated.
I shuffled after him, wanting to stop that from happening—Aidan couldn’t help it that he and Da saw the world differently—and that was when I saw him, crouching on the ground in front of a lump.
The lump moved.
My eyes flared wide when I saw her boobs jiggle and she—
I reared back when it registered that she had no clothes on.
None at all.
Top or bottom.
It was freezing out here,freezing.
Aidan was shrugging out of his jacket and shoving it at her but she was sobbing and—
Bleeding.
She was bleeding.
From everywhere.
Her pale skin had slashes in it, and she had bruises on her face and her body, and there was blood between her legs andeverywhere.
So much blood.
Everywhere.
Da strode over just as Aidan started dragging off his gloves to give to the woman, and when his hand went to Junior’s shoulder to grab a hold of him, he stilled.
"Grainne?" He hesitated, his eyes squinting as he stared down at her. "Is that you?"
A couple things hit home. First, that was as Irish a name as was possible. Was she the daughter of a Five Pointer? Second was that Da clearly knew her. Was this beating... a punishment?
When he made no move to do anything, just stood there watching as Aidan tried to put her fingers into his gloves, I hurried over, feet thudding, and demanded, "Da, we gotta help her." My hand grabbed his and I tugged, hard.
