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I chose this spot because the water was deep, and though it took some time, I managed to roll him into the blanket and right into the creek. I put my clothes into a plastic bag, jumped into the stream to rinse away Owen’s blood, and changed into another all-black outfit before I made my way home.
Thankfully, Mom was asleep and Dad was passed out in his recliner when I got home. I slipped into my bedroom unnoticed and hid the bag in the back of my closet.
After a quick shower, I changed into pajamas and got into bed, where I allowed myself one final thought of Owen Doyle as I used my fingers to bring myself to another orgasm.
That night was how I left Sadie Rose, a good girl, behind. That night I became Sadie. Just Sadie.
And I owed it all to Owen Doyle.
My first kill.
My first hate fuck.
My first time escaping justice.
He was my first for many things, and no matter how hard I tried over the years, I could never, ever forget him.
CHAPTERONE
Sadie ~ Present
“You can wear this for your wedding, Kat. It’s timeless, and with a few alterations, it’ll fit you perfectly.” I held up the dress I wore when I married Colm. It was the same dress my grandmother wore when she married my grandfather back in Ireland.
She cherished it so much, she made room for it in her trunk when they came to America. She loved Colm to pieces; was certain he was a good Irish man and would make an excellent husband for me, and father to my children. Because of her certainty, she gifted me her wedding dress as a blessing.
Kat gave the dress her usual critical eye, and the look on her face told me what she thought of the handmade silk dress with lace on the arms and around the hem. Old. Not Old Country, but just old.
“I don’t know, Ma. The cut is kind of old-fashioned.”
“It’s handmade silk and lace.Realsilk and lace.” When I was preparing to marry Colm, I thought the dress was the epitome of wedding elegance.
“The fabric is beautiful, without a doubt,” she said.
I waited for thebut.
And then it came. “But I want to look beautiful, Ma, not like I’m wearing my great-grandma’s dress.”
She fingered the silk fabric, her mind racing with thoughts on how to change it, I was sure. “Besides all that, I’m five inches taller than you, and I don’t want to wear a mini-skirt on my wedding day.”
I’d had my heart set on her getting married in that dress, but she had a point. “It’s something to consider,” I said, my heart not in it.
She held the dress up to her body with a wistful sigh as she examined her reflection. “It’s too bad Grandpa Ashby isn’t around to see me get married. I miss him so much.” She let out a low, nostalgic laugh. “He was so strong, so formidable, but when it came to us, he always had a few dollar bills and a handful of candy.”
Kat wasn’t wrong in her memories of Cillian. He’d been the father I was denied by birth, teaching me the things I needed to know to make it in the real world. “I miss him too.”
My feelings for Cillian were complicated. He was a good man, a strong man, but he also raised Colm, and I couldn’t think about one without remembering the other.
In November of 1982, just months after my sixteenth birthday, I was out with Uncle Seamus, my new best friend. We were sampling a new brand of rot-gut whiskey because drinking with my uncle was my favorite pastime in the aftermath of Owen Doyle.
But that night, I wasn’t drinking to forget. I drank because it was Friday night, and I was with the one person who loved me without condition. Without judgment.
“If you have to drink this swill, I recommend a splash of cola. Not too much, or it’ll end up sweet, but just enough to mask that bitter, cheap taste.”
I soaked up every tidbit of knowledge Seamus shared with me, nodding like I was as wise to the ways of the world as he was. “Why not just order the good stuff?”
Seamus threw his head back and laughed. “Because some days, I just wanna get shit-faced, lass, and when those days cross paths with the days my pockets are empty, well, I have two choices. Deal with reality or get shit-faced on cheap whiskey. I choose the latter.” He chuckled to himself.
“Makes sense.” I smiled and held up the glass with the dark amber liquid. “To delaying reality, at least for a little while.”
