Page 83 of Dark Ink

Alan eased his wife back behind him. He nodded at the mourners hesitating on their way to the cars, on their way out of the rain. “Everything’s fine,” he said even as his biceps bulged beneath his ranch-tattered coat. I felt a hand against mine.

“Rian,” Eithne said softly. “Rian, don’t do this.”

She sounded so far away. Maybe it was the wind, the wind that carried her words out of earshot. I could barely hear her. And what was more, I didn’t want to. I pointed a shaking finger at Liam.

“You’re worse than the two of them,” I said loudly, quickly losing control. “They’re just animals. Beasts. Brutes. They can’t help themselves. They don’t know any better. Fists and blood and dominance is their world. But you. You, Liam. You know. You knew. And you did nothing.”

Alan advanced on me, gripping me by the collar of my rain-soaked jacket and shook me like a ragdoll. I wasn’t the lanky runt I was all those years ago, but Alan was still a mammoth.

“You need to shut your mouth if you know what’s good for you,” he growled, low and threatening. “I won’t let you speak ill of the dead in my presence.”

But I had eyes for Liam only. Venom and fury and pent-up hurt for him alone. It was to him that I spoke, voice cracking as I yelled.

“You defended them like they were human. You stayed back like they were men, real men. You acted like they were doing nothing wrong, beating me night after night, locking me in the barn, terrorizing me, day after day. You treated them like they weren’t rabid dogs that needed to be taken out back and shot!”

The first crack of knuckles across my cheek was pure bliss. I’d longed for it. Practically begged for it. Alan broke my skin and I laughed like a fucking hyena.

“Well, Liam,” I shouted from the mud, wiping away a smear of red blood that the pouring rain couldn’t seem to wash away, “I’m giving you another chance, because I love you, brother. I’m giving you another chance to step in. To protect me. To be on my side. To be a fucking brother.”

“We’re done,” Alan said. When he turned to leave with his wife I kicked out at his knee.

He howled in pain and returned the favour with a swift fist to my ribs. I cradled my side.

“Come on now, Liam,” I said. “It’s now or never. You’re not going to come to me later with a warm towel. I’ll spit in your face. Now or never.”

I turned to Alan, whose chest was heaving as he struggled to restrain himself. I grinned.

“You’re a fucking animal, Alan,” I told him and added, pointing to the grave not yet even filled in with dirt, “You and him, both. This whole ‘self-control’ thing really isn’t in your nature, is it?”

Alan lunged at me as I knew he would. I let him take me to the ground. With half my face shoved into the mud, I looked at Liam, who stood paralysed in the rain.

“Me or him,” I said through gritted teeth. “The beast or your brother, Liam! Choose! Fucking choose!”

When he did nothing, I drove my forearm against Alan’s throat. He gasped and I took the moment to get on top of him. I vaguely heard someone call my name as I let loose years of built-up anger on Alan’s face. If there hadn’t been the wind, I might have heard “That’s enough!” If there hadn’t been the battering, whipping rain, I might have heard footsteps splashing in the growing puddles. If there hadn’t been blood pounding in my ears, I might have heard it was her voice and not Liam’s. I might not have pushed back so hard. I might have still saved things. Saved us.

I knew it was her from the second my fingertips brushed against her wet dress. But by then it was too late. As it always was. As it always was bound to be. I shoved Eithne away and didn’t even have a chance to watch her fall as Alan’s fist connected with my temple. The world shifted and I didn’t know if it was because of the massive blow to the head or because Eithne was on the ground and it was my fault.

Alan held onto me as I struggled to get free. Added a few more punches as Eithne pushed herself up, pushed herself away from Alan’s wife, from Liam. Alan growled like a beast just like me as I watched her run, the curious crowd parting for her like a black sea.

“Let me the fuck go!”

I slipped in the mud. Couldn’t find my footing. She was getting farther and farther away between the gravestones and I was slipping on my own blood. I called her name as I ran after her, but she didn’t stop. She didn’t turn back.

When I finally caught up to her, it’d felt like we’d run to the end of the earth. The vast wilderness spread out like an eternity in front of me as I gripped her narrow, shaking shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I muttered stupidly, out of my mind, out of control, desperation taking over. “Eithne, I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t know it was you. If I’d known it was you…”

Mud ran down Eithne’s chest, dripping from the tips of her hair. She avoided looking at me like she’d done all morning.

“Rian,” she said at last. “I can’t talk to you right now.”

“Right,” I said, nodding furiously. “Right. You’re right. It’s raining. You’re freezing. It’s freezing out here. Let’s get back to the car. We’ll find a hotel. We’ll get warm. We’ll talk then. Everything will be alright then.”

I saw the red and blue lights in her eyes when she looked up and gazed distantly over my shoulder. I turned to see the police car pulling into the cemetery. I knew they were here for me. I knew it wouldn’t be long before they came. Already people from the funeral were pointing in my direction. I reached for Eithne’s hands, but she pulled them gently away. My heart lurched.

“We’ll talk,” I insisted, trying and failing to catch her eye. “Eithne, we’ll talk.”

Checking over my shoulder again I saw the officers making their way between the gravestones, rain falling from the brims of their black caps, their eyes shadowed. Desperation made me sweat as I turned back to Eithne.

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