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Back at the house, I storm in pretty much the same as I did when I left. The walk back has forced my guilt to the side, and it is simmering silently beneath everything else temporarily.
What I need now are answers. From Kavanagh, Star, the Lawlers, but before all of that, before I can face what I know is coming, I need to speak with the one man who has been a constant in my life. The man who it appears has betrayed me even more deeply than the Lawlers.
Mitch.
Kavanagh and Star are still in the lounge where I left them. Both raise their heads as I barrel into the room.
“I need to use a phone!” I demand, stopping in front of Kavanagh.
“Did the fresh air blow away your manners as well as clear your head?”
“Please,” I drawl, but I don’t stop there. “While we are on the subject of manners, maybe you need to brush up on yours. Last I heard abduction is an offence, along with drug dealing, gun trafficking and murder, none of which amount to having good manners.”
He rises from his seat. “I already warned you—”
I cut him off with a wave of my hand before saying, “Yeah, you did. But I’m not very good at listening or taking orders, so here we are. Thing is, Kavanagh, I’m not in the least bit scared of you.”
“You made that blatantly clear outside the warehouse. But this time you don’t have Maddox here to protect you, Roxy.”
“I don’t fucking need Maddox Lawler to protect me. He hasn’t been around the last ten years, and I’ve coped just fine.” His mention of Maddox produces a shot of pain and is no doubt what he intended. “Did you have my sister when we met at the warehouse?” Before he can answer another thought occurs to me, and I’m almost too terrified of the answer to ask, but fuck that. “Do they know she’s alive? Do they fucking know that my sister is alive?” I spin away, gripping my hair.
“Roxy, they don’t know. No one does.” Star places a hand on my back as she comes to stand in front of me. “Yes, they knew it was…Rogers that killed Mum, but they don’t know about me. They’ve been looking for me too, Roxy. All this time.”
“Star,” Kavanagh warns.
Releasing me she turns to him. “No, Aiden. Enough games. She deserves answers.”
“She does, but they’re not your answers to give. Let the Lawlers tell their own story, just like you’ll tell yours.”
“Fine. Let’s do it. Right fucking now.”
“Watch your mouth, Star!”
Turning back to me, I watch as she rolls her eyes, and I can’t help the small giggle that escapes, bringing a little levity to the tense atmosphere “Shall we,” she mocks, waving a hand toward the sofa and offering a slight bow. I sense that my sister’s use of humour is a distraction technique used solely to detach from serious events or conversations.
Some of the wind goes out of me at the prospect of hearing what she has to say despite the fact I sense I won’t like any of it. But there are far too many questions and not nearly enough answers.
Taking a seat, I watch as Kavanagh reaches into his pocket and pulls out a phone. Stepping forward he holds it out to me. “For later, when you’re done here.” He casts a pointed look to Star and then leaves.
Sitting down beside me, I watch as her thumb and forefinger come together, and she rubs back and forth. It’s a classic calming technique used by therapists for people with anxiety.
Whatever happened to my sister all those years ago has, not surprisingly, left a lasting effect on her. All the years I’ve spent searching for her, I never allowed myself to think about what happened to her, not really. When she first disappeared, my mind would run wild with thoughts of where she was, and what was happening to her, but as I got older and learnt to deal with my emotions and thoughts better, I stopped allowing them in. Now they are as alive as I am and having a celebration party like no other.
Memories of her as a happy, smiling, little girl become twisted and tainted with what she must have suffered at the hands of Rogers. I look away from her briefly, needing a minute to pull back from the spotlight shining on my own guilt.
When I look back at her, she is watching me and reaches out a hand, clasping my own.
“Roxy, it’s okay. I’m okay.”
Her words cause another fracture in my heart, if at all possible, and my eyes roam over her face, taking in her big, beautiful eyes that are full of sorrow and concern.
“How? How are you okay, Star? I failed you. We all failed you. Even the damn system meant to protect you failed you. A system I devoted my life to. How can any of that mean you’re okay?” My eyes flick back and forth, seeking answers only she can give me.
“Because I always had you. I might not have been with you, Roxy, but you were always here”—she places a hand over her heart—“and I knew you would look for me.” Her head drops as she lets out a deep sigh. Then she draws in a deep breath before looking up at me again. “I know you want answers, but all I can give you for now is that Aiden and his family rescued me. I’ve been safe with them, Roxy, so you can shut that shit down that I know is eating you up.”
“Where have you been all this time?” I ask, desperately needing something to quench my hunger for answers.
“Ireland,” she says it quickly, then turns away. When she turns back to me, she has a sheepish look on her face.
