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“Away on!” Rory says, peering through his windscreen at the darkness in front of him. “Ye sure?”
“Aye,” I reply, putting the Bible into my backpack and the rosary beads into my pocket. Besides, my house is in the opposite direction of Darcy’s. This allows my mates more time with Darcy and her friends.
Rory knows not to argue and pulls over. We’re in the middle of nowhere, but it’s in the dark where I thrive. I’ve seen the bogeyman. He doesn’t scare me anymore.
Opening the door, I bid my friends farewell. “Thanks a million. I’ll chat to ye later.”
Cian turns over his shoulder and smirks. “Be careful of the culchies.”
“Ack, they need to be careful of him,” Rory retorts playfully.
With a smile, I close the car door and watch my friends drive off into the night, faffin’ about like normal twenty-one-year-olds should. I start to dander home.
The full moon provides some light, but the darkness doesn’t scare me. It’s the daylight that does. But it wasn’t always this way. When Ma was alive, I used to love digging with her in her garden. She loved roses.
Peering down at the rose tattooed on the back of my hand, I sigh. Her memory fades every single day, and I’m afraid it won’t be long until she’s gone forever. Reaching into my pocket, I finger over her rose brooch which I’ve carried with me since her death.
It was the only thing my dad let me keep of hers. Everything else, he threw away. It seemed he wanted to erase any memory of her. I wanted to believe it had something to do with my stepma, my ma’s once best friend.
But I soon learned this was all my dad.
A dim light up ahead catches me off guard because I’m literally in the middle of nowhere. It looks like the screen on someone’s phone. I have my knife and brass knuckles within reach, but when I get closer, I see that I won’t be needing them.
The first thing I notice is her hair—it’s almost silver under the moonlight and tied in two loose ponytails. The black headband contrasts the platinum color. As I get closer, I see that she’s wearing a short navy skirt and matching top.
When she hears me, she spins around, using a small torch to see who’s there.
“Hello?” she yelps in a posh accent.
“What’s the craic?”
She cocks her head to the side, obviously confused. She’s definitely not from around here.
“What’s goin’ on?” I say, the universal language for why the fuck is she out here, all alone in the middle of the night and the middle of nowhere.
“Oh,” she says, brushing back a stray piece of hair behind her ear. “My bike broke.”
She flashes the torch on the pink bike which lays on its side.
“I was riding home from a party, hence the costume,” she explains, as if needing to clarify why she’s riding a bike in thigh-high stockings and boots.
Not that I care because she looks a ride.
Taking a closer look at her outfit, I smirk, but am suddenly alarmed I responded this way because it’s not forced. “Babydoll?”
She seems surprised I know she’s dressed as a character from one of my favorite comics. “Yes!” she says happily. “I’m glad someone has a clue around here.”
Compliments make me uncomfortable, so I clear my throat. “I’ll take a look at yer bike.”
“Thanks.”
I crouch down to see what the damage is. Instantly, I see the bike chain has come loose. “Wee buns. Y’ll be on yer way in no time.”
She cautiously walks over, watching as I go to work fixing the chain. “What are you doing out here?” she asks, pointing her torch my way to provide more light.
“Just out for a dander.”
“A what?”
