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The tentacles locked into place, caging her in. She could almost hear them snap shut. “We won’t let it happen.”
“I don’t know that we can prevent it.” He took her face between his hands, his green eyes shining with emotion. “The energy’s changed. I first noticed it when I saw Keegan’s sentence about Malcolm.”
She remembered the moment. He’d been uncomfortable with the message, she recalled. “It’s words. Expression. Like my mural.”
“Malcolm doesn’t see it that way.” He inhaled shakily before exhaling a long trail of tension, the only sound in the silent kitchen. “But if it does happen, I don’t want you to be scared, okay? Somehow it’s going to work out. I just don’t know how yet.”
“Not be scared?” She gripped his shoulders, locking her gaze with his. “Liam, I love you! If you get put behind bars, I know it’ll be because ofme.Because you helped me. I know I said your willingness to go to jail for me cinched it, but I don’t want that. It’s one thing for it to happen to me. It’s my art, but you going… I can’t live with that, dammit!”
“Taylor, listen to me.” He took her hands until they were linked around his neck, bringing them closer so she could feel his heart and take comfort from his strength. “If it comes to choosing between me going to jail and you, my choice is clear. I make it freely. You are not to tell anyone you are Veritas. Do you hear me? Because he could still get to you. You heard Arthur. Malcolm is still looking for Veritas through other means. Having both of us in jail solves nothing. Nothing! And if I can stop them from looking at you, I will.”
She wasn’t a crier, but tears filled her eyes. “Don’t be crazy. You going to jail would solve nothing. It would only give Malcolm a win.”
“I’ll do anything to keep you safe,a stór.” He kissed her softly, making a tear fall. “Also, being Malcolm’s target is safer for me—as a man. We both know it, Taylor.”
He was talking about the math teacher, and her body shuddered. Even today, she could feel his old hands grabbing her under her uniform skirt. Was Malcolm capable of the same offenses to women?
Yes, she bet he was.
“I don’t like this,” she said, her voice shaky. “We’ll figure out another way.”
“We have a lot of people supporting us,” he told her urgently. “I trust in that. You should too. But promise me that you won’t tell the authorities you’re Veritas. Not even to get me out of jail. Please,a stór, it’s the only thing I would ever ask of you.”
She looked at him as her hands fell to her sides, weighed down by the decision before her. “I want to promise, but I just can’t. Liam, I wouldn’t be your partner if I let you take the fall for this. I’m not going to let this happen.”
His throat worked as he regarded her. “I always told you that you had a choice. I do as well. Taylor, I told you this because I love you. Remember that. No matter what comes.”
He turned and walked out, heading to their bedroom, where she’d insisted he move his clothes into yesterday. She fisted her hands, trying to fight off her urge to go after him.
“It won’t work,” a familiar voice said quietly.
She turned to see Sorcha standing in the kitchen, her dress billowing slightly around her legs.
“I disagree.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “This whole discussion is stupid.”
“I concur,” the ghost replied, her oval face wrecked with sorrow. “But when you truly love someone, your natural urge is to protect them, as you both are discovering. What you both must realize—you most of all—is that there are others who want to protect you as well. When the time comes, I want you to remember that, Taylor. You must.”
Her intensity rooted Taylor’s feet to the floor in fear.“I must?Some ghost you are. Why can’t you stop this? Why couldn’t you stop those sheep from getting killed?”
For a moment, it looked as though tears were falling down Sorcha’s cheeks. “I did what I could. Go and dress. There is much ahead.”
With that, she disappeared. Taylor wanted to throw something. How did any of this make sense?
“A stór,” Liam called softly from the doorway, fully dressed. “I must go.”
“I’ll be right behind you,” she said, crossing and kissing him on the cheek before walking toward the bedroom.
She heard his motorcycle moments later as she began pulling on her clothes. Gathering her courage for what was ahead, she splashed cold water on her face before heading out herself.
By the time she reached the pasture, there was a line of cars parked on the side of the road. Blue Garda lights were flashing. She parked at the end and started walking to the gate after eyeing the brush and the barbwire. The sounds of crying were audible as was the urgent, frantic baaing of sheep. Her insides started to tremble. She had to force herself forward.
When she reached the first mass of sheared wool on the ground, she paused and kneeled down. The word Keegan had lovingly sprayed was no longer visible, the harshly sheared wool a tangled mess. She wondered what the word had been as she continued walking toward the crowd clustered ahead. The scene before her had her biting the inside of her cheek. Sheared wool shot with blood and paint littered the ground. Ahead, the victimized flock stood clustered together, Donal, Carrick, Kade, and Jamie out among them. Each of the living sheep had one bare side—the positive sentiments brutally shaved off of them.
Her heart broke. All the goodness in life seemed to be gone.
She sighted Liam and had to blink back tears. He had his arm wrapped around his mother, who was standing silent as stone next to Linc as Keegan talked to John Hart and Wilt Mather took notes on his tablet. Both his mum and Keegan were crying. She made herself keep walking to where Liam stood. When she reached them, she saw two sheep lying on their sides, blood staining the ground around them.
Dear God! Those poor sheep. The words sprayed on them in harsh lines had her belly quivering in terror.
