Page 99

TARGET ON THE BACK

Hugh

APRIL 30, 2000

I T TOOK SIX DAYS FOR C AOIMHE’S BODY TO BE RELEASED BACK TO THE FAMILY, AND even then, her parents were told it would take time for the autopsy report to be finalized.

When my babysitter returned to Old Hall House, it was in a brown coffin that had to remain closed because of the damage caused to her body while in the river.

The whole town showed up to the wake to pay their respects to the family, and there had been a steady flow of traffic coming and going from the house all day. She would spend her last night in her family’s home, surrounded by the people who loved her most.

When tomorrow came, on what should have been her nineteenth birthday, Caoimhe Young would be laid to rest after twelve o’clock mass, in the adjoining graveyard of St. Patrick’s Church.

Forever eighteen .

I hadn’t left Liz’s side for a moment until today, when I had to go to town with Mam to get measured for a suit for the funeral. When I got back to Lizzie’s house a couple of hours later, I found her exactly where I left her. But it wasn’t Gibsie keeping her company, like I had implicitly instructed him to do.

It was Mark.

Lizzie was sitting on the tree swing, with her feet trailing in the mud, while that prick sat on the second swing we had added a few years back.

The minute I saw him, I was incensed.

“Hey!” I roared, climbing over the wooden fence and bolting toward them. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” Mark narrowed his eyes as I approached. “I’m talking to her.”

“No, you’re not,” I countered, moving to stand between them. “You have nothing to say that she needs to hear.”

I didn’t want him anywhere near Liz. It had taken me six days to get her out of that bed, and I wasn’t about to let that prick upset her with talk of her sister.

Besides, the time for talking was weeks ago.

The fact that he and Caoimhe hadn’t reached out once to my family or his in those three weeks didn’t sit well with me.

If he was telling the truth about Liz having a mental breakdown—and I couldn’t prove he wasn’t—it meant they had kept her in that house for three fucking weeks without seeking medical intervention.

I knew my girlfriend. I knew how low her moods could plummet, but she wasn’t dangerous like Mark had portrayed her to be.

He told her parents that Liz attacked both him and Caoimhe on multiple occasions throughout the course of those weeks, which had led to them having no choice but to keep her sedated with her prescription of clonazepam. He even accused her of holding a knife to his throat.

Now, if he had said she tried to bite him, it would have been a lot more plausible, but oh no, he had to go with a knife.

I didn’t believe a word of it.

Not one fucking word.

“Actually, I’m the only one that should be speaking to her,” Mark replied, glaring at me. “Because I understand her. Because I was with her that night, not you. I hate to tell ya, Biggs, but I’m the one she needs right now.”

My girlfriend proved him a liar when she sprang off the swing and dove for me. Trembling, Liz fisted my T-shirt and buried her face in my neck.

“Oh, yeah? Well, I find that really hard to believe given the circumstances,” I shot back, wrapping a protective arm around Liz. “I mean, it’s not like you have a good track record of being there when you’re needed .”

“How dare you speak to me like that,” Mark seethed, jerking off the swing. “You have some fucking nerve to say that to my face.”

“Yeah, well, someone needed to,” I shot back, unwilling to show empathy to an asshole who didn’t deserve it. “The truth hurts, asshole, but it’s still the truth.”

“My girlfriend is inside that house laid out in a fucking coffin,” he snarled, stalking toward me with a bull-head expression. “You have no idea how much pain I’m in.”

“Yeah, and maybe if you had spent a little less time thinking about your pain and a little more time thinking about your girlfriend’s pain, she might not be in that coffin,” I snapped back, keeping a firm hold on Liz, while I stood my ground. “Caoimhe’s death doesn’t give you a clean sheet, asshole. It doesn’t erase the shitty way you mistreated her for years, and no amount of lies you tell yourself will purge the hand you had in her decision to end her life.”

“I never mistreated Caoimhe—”

“That shit might float with Catherine and Mike, but don’t waste your time trying it on me,” I cut in, unwilling to listen to him feed me another one of his lines. “You mentioned earlier something about understanding what my girlfriend is going through because you were with her that night. Am I right? Hmm? Is that what you said?” I waited for him to nod before I continued. “Well, I was with your girlfriend on multiple occasions down through the years when you messed her around and fucked with her head.” Wholly enraged and unable to contain myself, I fired from all cylinders and let him have it. “You are incapable of understanding anyone because in order to do that, you would have to possess a conscience and that’s something we both know you don’t have.”

“Shut your mouth, Biggs.” He narrowed his eyes in warning. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You treated your girlfriend like she was a piece of meat. Like she was a subpar human, whose sole purpose on earth was to please you. Instead of taking care of her like a man is supposed to, you impregnated her and ruined her future!”

“I took care of that,” he seethed, looking truly rattled that I knew his dirty little secret. “I looked after my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, you did a great job of looking after your girlfriend when you ferried her off in the middle of her leaving cert.” I narrowed my eyes in disgust. “Boyfriend of the year in the making.”

“That was her decision,” he roared, getting in my face, oblivious to the trembling girl clinging to me. “Or am I to blame for Caoimhe not wanting to keep it?”

“No. It was her body and her choice to make,” I replied, twisting sideways to keep Liz out of the firing line. “But you’re sure as hell to blame for putting her in that situation in the first place. I haven’t even turned thirteen yet and I know that. You were supposed to protect her, and you didn’t .”

“You are stepping over a dangerous line, Biggs,” he said in a deathly cold tone. “Don’t push me.”

“Kind of like how you walked over Caoimhe?” I shot back. “You trampled all over that girl like she was a fucking doormat, and you didn’t think twice about it. So don’t you stand here and tell me that my girlfriend needs anything from a piece of shit like you when you both know you are the worst type of cancer that ever entered her family.”

“You’re going to regret this,” Mark hissed, but I had already turned to walk away, deciding that I had already wasted too much of my energy on him.

Fucking cretin .

“You’ll get what’s coming to ya, Biggs,” he continued to call after me, as I led my girlfriend as far away from him as I could. “You better watch your back!”

“Ignore him,” I told Liz, who was trembling violently beside me. “Remember what I told you about bullies?” I added in a gentler tone, as I helped her climb over the fence, before jumping over it myself. “Bullies feed on fear, and if you don’t feed them, they starve.”

“And die.”

My head snapped in her direction.

Two words.

She spoke two words.

Finally .

Be normal with her , my brain commanded, don’t bombard her with questions that’ll put her back in her shell .

“That’s right,” I agreed, draping an arm around her shoulders, while mentally instructing myself to not react. “They die.”

“Hugh?” Liz stopped walking and turned to look at me. “Don’t die, okay?”

“I’m not dying, Liz.”

“Please.” Tears filled her eyes as she stared into my eyes and begged, “Don’t ever leave me.”

“I won’t.” My heart cracked in my chest. “I’m not going anywhere, Liz.”

“No matter what?”

“Yeah, Liz.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead. “No matter what.”

“Do you believe in heaven, Hugh?” she asked a little while later, when I had taken her far away from the house that contained her sister’s dead body and the meadow that contained the cretin.

We were still on their property, but I’d put about forty acres between us and the rest of the world. Because I needed to keep her calm and talking .

“That’s a hard question,” I replied thoughtfully, scratching my chin. “The scientist in me says no, but the Catholic in me says yes.” Sprawled out on the grass, I leaned back on my elbows and looked at her. “Do you believe in heaven, Liz?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Not anymore.”

“How come?”

“Because I don’t believe in anything anymore,” she replied, never taking her eyes off the daisy chain she was making. “I used to, I think, but not anymore.” She shook her head again. “Maybe I’m just broken inside.”

“There’s nothing broken in you, Liz,” I replied gruffly. “You’re just sad. It’s okay to be sad.”

“But I’m not just sad,” she whispered, crushing the daisy chain in her small fist. “I’m angry.”

“That’s okay, too.”

“Is it?” Sniffling, she turned to look at me, making my stomach twist up in knots, when her sad, blue eyes locked on mine. “Am I okay?”

“Maybe not right now.” My heart cracked when I heard her pain. “But you’ll be okay one day.”

“What if I’m not?” She reached up and batted another tear away. “What if I’m never okay again?”

“You will be, Liz.”

“But what if I’m not , Hugh?” she choked out, crawling onto my lap. “What happens then?”

“Then that’ll be okay, too.” Sitting up, I wrapped her up in my arms and whispered, “Because no matter how happy or sad you feel, I’ll be right here with you.”

“You will?”

“Every step of the way.”