Page 66 of Fragile Union

HOLLY

It’s been a week since we lost Seamus and Malachy. God, it feels as though it was only yesterday. We’re all feeling his loss. My heart hurts for everyone. He was my Granda, and I only got to know him for a little while.

Da, Danny, and Makenna have taken it on themselves to show what happens when you take on the Irish Mafia. In the space of a week, they’ve bombed the houses of the Ortega gang, the death toll has risen as each day passes. Thirty-seven men, women, and children.

I understand why they’re doing it. I get they want their revenge; they want to make the people who took him from us to pay. They want to make them feel the way we do. But it’s not something I’d ever condone. Killing thirty-seven people, doesn’t replace the men we lost. It’ll never bring him back. But I’ll never tell them that. My opinion on this doesn’t matter. I am not a boss; I am not in the family. I’m just a part of it.

“I’m so sorry Finn,” I whisper as I lean forward in the chair and reach for his hand. I gather it in mine and hold it in a firm grip. It’s cold and still. As is his body. He’s still unconscious, the doctors had to put him into a medically induced coma to help him recover. Seeing him lying here, hooked up to so many machines is heartbreaking.

I feel so much guilt about what’s happened. If Ortega wasn’t after me, he would never have harmed Finn or had the opportunity to kill Granda and Malachy.

The guilt is intensified as I stare down at my uncle’s body. Today, we say goodbye to Granda, and Finn won’t be there. He doesn’t have the chance to say goodbye to his da. I can’t imagine what that would be or feel like. Thinking about how it would be if Da died and I couldn’t be there to say my final goodbye makes me want to sob.

“I wish I could make it all better. To take away the pain you’re going to feel when you wake up.” I squeeze his hand. “You will wake up.” He has to; there’s no other option. We all need Finn. Not having him around is hard, he’s always there with a quick joke and making sure we’re all okay.

The door opens and Makenna walks in, she’s wearing a black dress and black heels. Much like what I’m wearing, although she doesn’t have sunglasses. I’m not as good at hiding my emotions as she is. There’s no way I’ll be able to get through the funeral without crying.

“I thought I’d find you here,” she says softly coming to stand beside me. “You can’t blame yourself, Hol, it’s not right. You aren’t to blame.”

I let go of Finn’s hand and wrap my arms around my stomach, hoping she’ll leave this alone. I don’t want to talk about it.

“Do you blame Romero?” she asks and I turn my head to glare at her. She raises her hands in surrender, “Because of him, Georgina started her stupid fucking crusade.”

The anger is like a whip, it comes out hard and fast.

I clench my jaw, giving myself a few seconds to breathe before I say something. “My husband,” I growl, “did nothing wrong. He had a past. He never led her on and he didn’t do anything to warrant her craziness. He is not to blame.”

Her eyes widen before a slow smile forms on her face. “I love when you’re assertive. You need to let this side of you out more often.”

I roll my eyes, only Makenna could swiftly change topics like this. “Seriously, Kenna, I won’t have anyone blaming him.”

She takes my hand, “I promise you, no one blames him. I was trying to make a point. It’s not his fault and it’s certainly not yours.”

I ignore her comment. I would never blame Rome for what happened. He did everything he could to get me back. That included almost starting a war with the Russian’s, thankfully, the Bratva didn’t retaliate to the shooting that Romero led. I’m waiting for the call to say something’s happened. I pray it doesn’t.

“Are you ready?” she asks me.

No, I’m not. Nowhere near ready to say goodbye. But I nod, taking a deep breath as I rise to my feet. My leg throbs with pain, but I’ve learnt how to breathe through it, it’s strapped and in a brace. Romero has been trying to get me into a wheelchair for today and that’s not going to happen. I’m not going to my granda’s funeral in a wheelchair. I’m standing. Thankfully, the shot I was given by the doctor should tide me over until after the funeral.

I turn toward her, my steps slow and steady as I push past the pain. She gingerly takes my arm and links hers through mine, careful not to jostle me.

“It’s going to be okay,” she assures me. “We’ll get through today, and then we’ll make sure this never happens again.”

I bite my lip, how I wish that was true. But we’re not exactly model citizens, we’re part of the criminal underworld.

“Has Killian arrived?” I ask as we move out of the room. Our Uncle Killian was in Ireland when Granda was killed, he was meant to arrive two days ago, but he had other things to take care of.

“Yes, he and Granda Henry are here.” Her tone is clipped.

I look at her and realise she’s not telling me it all. “What?”

She sighs, “Your ma’s here.”

Fuck. Just what we need.

“Denis is pissed. He’s not spoken to her since she arrived, and Zoe is not happy. She left the kids at home and that’s further pissed him off.”

I shake my head, not surprised that yet again, Ma’s left the kids at home. She usually does it, having children is an imposition to Zoe Gallagher. She never wanted any, but she knew the only way to have the life she lives is to trap my da into getting her pregnant. Da’s never made a secret that he doesn’t love her, so ma’s done whatever the hell she likes as payback.

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