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She takes her time, peering into the bloody water as if it’ll give her the answers. “We heard gunshots, and before I had a chance to grab the gun Punky left for me, three men in balaclavas broke down the door. Ethan tried to protect us, but he’s still so weak.
“They knocked him out so he couldn’t fight. Eva and I, we fought them, I swear it.”
“I know that you did,” I say, not wanting her to feel guilty for surviving.
“They beat us both. I thought that would be enough. But then Uncle Sean called off his dogs. He didn’t get his hands dirty. Typical, him allowin’ others to do his dirty work. He said that I was to tell Punky to back down, or he would make them pay.
“I didn’t know what he meant until they took Eva and Ethan. Uncle Sean said as long as we played by his rules, no harm would come to them. And then he…then he told me to say hello to Punky from him, before knockin’ me out cold.”
I swallow down my disgust and take a minute to digest what Hannah just shared.
“I’m sorry, Cami. I fucked up, so I did. I never meant for anyone to get hurt. I just wanted to help Ethan.” She covers her face, sobbing into her palms.
“Hey, there’s nothing for you to be sorry for.” I console her, rubbing her back because this isn’t her fault. “We’ll find them. I know my sister. She won’t give up, and neither will Ethan.”
“What i-if Ethan falls for Uncle Sean’s b-bullshit again. I just go-got him ba-back.”
“Shh, don’t think that way.” I try my best to comfort her, but she’s scarred. Not just on the outside but on the inside as well.
She leans into my touch, sobbing hysterically. I don’t speak. I let her get it all out because she can’t keep this bottled up.
After a while, her cries become sporadic sniffles, then she grows quiet, almost in a hypnotic trance.
She’s exhausted and emotionally spent, so once she’s clean, I dry her off, then reach for Punky’s black T-shirt hanging off the back of the door. I slip it over her head and search the drawers for some first aid supplies. I disinfect the wounds on her face and arms, but she needs a lot more than that.
She needs to see a doctor.
I open the door and lead her into Punky’s bedroom. Pulling back the blankets on the bed, I gently encourage her to lie down. She settles in low, and when I tuck her in, my heart weeps.
She looks so young and innocent. But that didn’t make a difference to her own flesh and blood.
“Get some rest, Hannah. I’ll just be outside this door if you need me.”
Her eyes droop closed as exhaustion wins out.
Brushing her hair from her brow, I place a gentle kiss on her forehead, promising those who did this to her will pay. She’s passed out before I’m out the door.
I enter the living room, but no one is here.
I soon uncover where Punky and Cian are when I hear the unmissable sound of someone begging for their life as they’re getting the shit kicked out of them.
Rushing out the door, I stop dead in my tracks when I see a man on his knees, beaten and bloody, pleading Punky doesn’t kill him.
“I’m sorry,” he weeps, interlacing his hands in mercy as Punky stands above him, fists clenched. “We were ambushed. I promise ya. I’m not workin’ with Sean.”
Punky snarls before kneeing him under the chin.
The man falls onto his back with a thud, attempting to escape, but he’s not going anywhere. Punky grabs him by the feet and drags him forward.
“Fool me once, Ronan,” he spits. “But fool me twice. How did he know I wasn’t here?”
In response, he stomps on Ronan’s knee, and from the pained wail which leaves Ronan, I dare say Punky just broke bone.
“I don’t know. I swear it!” he exclaims. “If I was workin’ with him, why am I shot? Bleedin’ to death in yer fucking garden! Why would I come crawlin’ back here to tell ya the truth if I betrayed ye?”
Cian turns away, unable to witness his friend show no mercy because we both know that no matter what Ronan says, he’s dead.
“I tried to stop them, but Sean knew ya wouldn’t be here. Someone tipped him off. Whoever ya think are yer friends, yer wrong. Ya can’t trust anyone.”
