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Aunt Margaret’s sneer curls her lips as she sizes me up, disgust painting her features. “Look at you,” she begins, her voice dripping with disdain. “You always were a pathetic little girl, and now you’ve grown into an equally pathetic woman.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, trying not to let her words affect me. But it’s difficult – the way she says them is like a knife slicing through my heart.
“Stupid, weak, and ugly,” she continues, each insult hitting me like a hammer blow. “It’s no wonder you aren’t married yet. No one wants to deal with your incompetence like I had to. No one even wants to be around you.”
Her cruel words sting, and I flinch as they cut through my defenses. My hands curl into fists, trembling with the effort it takes not to cry. My head screams at me to move, to run away from this nightmare, but my body refuses. It’s back to being the terrified little girl who was neglected, abused and gaslighted by her so-called family, with no one else to turn to and no one else to take me in.
Before she can carry on with her sickening comments, Ciarán and Cathal arrive on either side of me, tall, imposing and foreboding. Trembling between them, I shake my head, unable to form words.
“You need to back away,” Ciarán states in that voice full of ice and malice.
Casting a glance up at him, his eyes are blazing with fury as he steps between me and Aunt Margaret. His tall, muscular frame towers over her, immediately demanding respect.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Cathal snarls, positioning himself on Ciaran’s other side, forcing me behind them. His whole body practically vibrates with rage, his fists clenched tight at his sides.
“Stay away from Summer,” Ciarán warns, his voice low and dangerous. “If you ever come near her again, you’ll regret it.”
Seeing her face through the gap in their bodies, Aunt Margaret stares at them, her eyes darting between Ciarán and Cathal. She seems to realize she’s no match for these two powerful men, and her face contorts with anger and fear.
“You two thugs don’t scare me,” she spits out, her bravado never faltering in the face of their fierce protectiveness. But despite her words, I can see the panic in her eyes.
“Leave,” Cathal growls, stepping forward and grabbing her upper arm. “And if you ever come near Summer again, I will rip your fucking face off and feed it to my neighbor’s dog. Are we clear?”
I shudder at his words. Cathal has definitely seen better days. He looks like he’s just come from a fight, his clothes dirty, his hair disheveled, and his face covered in bruises. I’m guessing whatever business he had to take care of didn’t go down so well.
“You can’t touch me,” Aunt Margaret hisses, shaking off Cathal and tugging her shirt down. “You don’t scare me with your threats. You two look like you don’t have a damn pot to piss in or a window in your house to push it through.”
“Well, looks can be deceiving,” Ciarán says. He grabs the document I’m still clutching and shoves it at Margaret. He doesn’t know what it is, but he doesn’t have to, to know this is part of her way to get me back under her control.
“Take your fucking threats and move. Go home and don’t come back. We’ll know if you ever set foot in this city again, and next time, I’ll let my brother off his leash and believe me when I say what he threatened before won’t be on the table anymore. It will be worse. Way,wayworse. Understand me?”
Aunt Margaret’s gaze flits between them, her lips pressed into a thin line. Though she tries to maintain some semblance of pride, I can see the fear coursing through her veins.
“Fine,” she spits out, her voice wavering. She glares at me one last time, venom seeping out of every pore. She takes a shaky step back. As she retreats, her head held high, I have a horrible feeling that this isn’t over.
Leaning against Ciarán, seeking comfort in the warmth of his body and the strength of his presence.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice filled with gratitude and relief. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”
Ciarán wraps an arm around me, pulling me close. “No one will ever hurt you again, Summer,” he murmurs, his voice soft yet resolute. “Especially not some ancient bitch with a vicious cruel streak. Not now. Not while we’re around.”
I glance at Cathal, who nods his agreement, his eyes filled with a fierce protectiveness that makes me feel safe and treasured, but it’s too late. “She doesn’t know the meaning of the wordcruel,” he spits out, his tone chilling me.
“See, this is why you shouldn’t have come back here,” Ciarán chides gently, kissing the top of my head. “Say you’ll reconsider?”
“Maybe,” I murmur as he leads me out of the store, where several people have stopped to stare at the scene. As much as I try to stop them, the old, festering wounds Margaret left behind start to tear open. Darkness creeps into my thoughts, threatening to swallow me whole. My steps slow, and I find myself growing quiet, drowning in the painful memories of my past.
“Hey,” Ciarán whispers, his breath tickling my ear. “You’re safe now, Tinks.”
“How did you even know who it was?”
“Took a leap.”
“Hmm.” I know they can sense the change in my demeanor, so I try to focus on the present, on the strong arm wrapped around me, but Margaret’s cruel words and actions still echo in my mind, gnawing at my self-worth and confidence. It’s a tidal wave of destruction that I can’t stop now, even if I wanted to.
* * *
The elevator doors slide open, revealing the luxurious penthouse. As we step inside, the soft glow of the evening light filters through the windows. In this sanctuary, it feels like a world away from that dark confrontation with Aunt Margaret, but the darkness is clawing at me, urging me to retreat back into my shell for safety.
