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I can’t get those words out of my head. They sounded so guttural. So real.
Three police cars, two ambulances, and my da show up within minutes. His underboss has lieutenants with scanners and Ma told them I was here.
Father Eamon gives his statement, his eyes glued to mine.
“Was that what happened, Lachlan?” the cop asks, my father watching me over his shoulder.
“Aye, he fell.” I keep my answer short. Hefellbecause I pushed him.
The cop turns, and after a look from my da that has him stepping back, he folds his report pad up. “Looks like an accident to me.”
A medical examiner takes Mr. Foster’s body away, and I never make it to school. Instead, I go to the hospital to get fifty-six stitches on my face. The cut came dangerously close to my eye. Ma shows up crying. Kieran and Riordan show up, too. They’re not crying. They look worried.
“Rior, take Ma to get some coffee,” Kieran tells him. When Riordan steers Ma from the room they gave me, my oldest brother speaks low and in my face. “What happened?”
“I told the cops. I told Da.”
“Now tell me what really happened.”
I laugh. He’s already acting like he’s in charge.
“Mr. Foster stabbed Father Eamon, then he stabbed me.”
“I see that. How did Foster end up with a busted head?” He’s concerned because they found me standing over a dead body.
“He fell.”
“On his own?”
I glare at my brother, trust issues swamping me. “Not…not exactly.”
“You pushed him, didn’t you? Because you wouldn’t let someone hurt a priest.”
Put that way, I feel proud. “Damn right.”
“There’s only one problem with what you did, Lachlan.” Kieran drags a chair next to my gurney. “I didn’t want to tell you this.”
My heart spikes. “Tell me what?”
“Rumors are spreading like wildfire all over the city about Father Eamon. Da ordered an investigation weeks ago. Norah’s brother, Ewan, has been working on it. That man who died…” Kieran narrows his eyes at me.
“Mr. Foster. Michael Foster’s da.”
“Aye. It’s rumored he went to the Russians to put a hit on Eamon.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not. Father Eamon’s been…hurting boys.”
“Don’t say that!” All I ever saw was the good in my hero. “It can’t be true. He’s a good man!”
“The dead guy was the good guy, Lachlan.” My brother eyes my huge bandage. “Except for scarring you for life, of course.”
“I didn’t kill him for what he did to me. I’ll bleed for the church. I killed him because he would have killed Father Eamon.”
“You shut up,” Kieran hisses. “You never admit that to anyone again, do you hear me?”
“You’re notanyone,” I bark, my stitches stretched and painful. “You’re my brother.”
