Page 75 of Love, Lies, and Celtic Knots

Love’s Twisted Knot

Delta James

Prologue

Ryan

Twenty-Two Years Ago

The house feels wrong from the moment I walk in. There’s a stillness that shouldn’t be there, like the place itself is holding its breath. I drop my bag by the door, thethunkechoing too loudly.

“Mom?” I call out, stepping into the living room. My voice feels small, swallowed up by the silence.

No answer.

I head down the hall toward her bedroom. The door is cracked open, and something cold curls in my gut. I push it open all the way.

The first thing I notice is the pills—an empty bottle tipped over on the nightstand, a few white capsules scattered next to a half-empty glass of water. She’s lying on the bed, so still. Too still.

“Mom!” My voice breaks as I rush to her side. I grab her shoulders and shake her gently. “Mom, wake up!”

But she doesn’t move. Her skin is pale, waxy. Her lips are slightly parted, but there’s no breath. No warmth.

“No, no, no,” I whisper, my hands trembling as I check for a pulse. Nothing.

The room spins, and I stagger back, the pieces slamming together in my mind. The pills. The glass of water. Her silence over the past few days.

But it doesn’t make sense. She wouldn’t do this. She wouldn’t just leave us—not me or Brennen or Emma.

And then the thought hits me like a freight train:Dad.

He’s been getting worse lately. The drinking. The yelling. The arguments that always seemed to end with him storming out and Mom locking herself in her room.

I stumble into the kitchen, grab my phone, and dial 911, my hands shaking so badly I almost drop it. When the operator picks up, I barely hear her over the roaring in my ears. I manage to get the words out. “My mom…she’s dead. I think… I think my dad might have done it.

Dad’s standing in the kitchen when I get back from answering the cops’ questions. His face is hard, but his eyes are bloodshot.

“You think I don’t know what you told them?” His voice is low, but the anger is there, barely contained. “You think I had something to do with this?”

“I do.” I explode, my chest heaving. “You broke her, Dad! With your drinking and your yelling and your goddamn temper. You drove her to this!”

His hand slams down on the counter, rattling the empty beer bottles. “Don’t you put this on me, boy. She made her choice!”

“Bullshit!” My voice cracks, but I don’t care. “You killed her just as sure as if you’d put a gun to her head. You never cared about her. Or any of us.”

The words hang between us like smoke, choking and heavy. He looks at me for a long moment, his face unreadable, then turns away. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I leave before I slam my fist in his face.

I sit stiffly in the courtroom, my hands clenched into fists on my knees as the coroner reads the findings.

“Based on the evidence presented, we determine that the cause of death was a deliberate overdose of prescription medication. The manner of death is suicide.”

I feel the words hit me like a punch to the gut, even though I saw it coming. I don’t wait for the proceedings to wrap up. I push out of my seat and walk out, ignoring the whispers of my brother and sister as they call me. I know I’m the oldest, but if I stay, I swear I’ll kill the old man.

Outside, the sun is too bright, too cheerful, as if mocking me. My legs move on autopilot, carrying me through the streets until I’m standing in front of the Naval recruiting office.

I walk in and meet the recruiter’s eyes. “I want to enlist,” I say, my voice steady.

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